Did Schubert, in the opening movement of his First Symphony, intend the introductory Adagio, when it reappears before the recapitulation, to travel at its initial tempo? Sir Charles evidently feels that he didn't. The opening is magisterially broad, but revisited at twice the speed it sounds, to my ears, rudely despatched. Wand (mid-price RCA) and Abbado (DG) offer a more convincing solution: both note the alla breve indication for the introduction and adopt a swifter pace at the outset. Then, with a gradual slowing (granted—not marked in the score) before its reappearance, manage to arrive back at that initial tempo.
This movement's exposition is beautifully controlled and the second subject bounces along without a care in the world. But care and concentration are elsewhere in the development, Schubert's dynamics passing to little effect. Rarely, though, has the finale sounded so full of high spirits: at a genuine vivace the English Sinfonia fairly frolic their way through this music. The energy is such (the coda's sforzandos are seized with uncommon abandon) that one tolerates a lack of polish in the playing.
The Fifth receives a gem of a performance, easy-going and gemutlich. You won't find the lightning articulation and responses of Abbado's comparably high octane performance, or Wand's very individual ideas on dynamic shading, but with rich, airy and spacious sound (Abbey Road Studio No. 1) this Fifth flows with unaffected serenity.
One could imagine more stylish woodwind playing in the Rossinian imitations of the 'Italian' Overture, but I was not prepared for the drama of Des Teufels Lustschloss—what a find! Written immediately after the First Symphony, this is Schubert the fiery and fuoco purveyor of theatrical sparks. Only the rather peculiar central trombone trio gives a hint that it is the work of a 16-year-old boy, and Groves wisely takes this episode at well above the Largo marking. Otherwise unavailable, this overture brings a generously filled, modestly priced disc to a bracing conclusion.'