The Walter record (CBS) was made in 1961 and comparison with latest record from Solti of the same coupling shows clearly what enormous strides have been made in recording techniques in the 25 years between them, notably in the ability to reproduce really soft degrees of playing. In the second movement of the Unfinished for example, there is soft playing such as was not heard on records in earlier days and the distinction between piano, pianissimo and even a triple piano is perfectly clear, yet the loudest parts in Decca's recording do not blast one out of the room. The point raises one or two questions and I don't know the answers to them all! Did conductors of only few decades ago try to get such softness or such degrees of softness? (My memory rather suggests they did not.) Was the Columbia Symphony Orchestra at the time of such quality as to be able to respond to Walter's demands even if he had made them? Does a conductor of Solti's sensitiveness know that he can successfully get each degree of softness in recording and refine the sound more than he would at a public concert?
Bohm on DG on this symphony is rather a different case for though he does also have the VPO, they recorded this symphony at a public concert in 1977 and though he gets far better soft playing than Walter did, the gradations of softness are inevitably less subtle than he may have got in a studio recording. Anyway, my choice is clearly Solti and the same goes for the Fifth Symphony on the reverse. Here the comparison with Bohm is fairer, since this side of his record was made in the studio: but I find some of his tempos rather on the slow side and Solti has the edge over him in the way of recording. I wish someone would start this symphony off as Beecham did! No recording captures the first notes of that delectable opening, 'hat-in-the-air' flourish as he did (HMV SXLP30204, 2/76)—one mostly hears the violins, even in this most modern recording, only when they get down low enough in their scale.
After I had written the above not only did the CD of Solti's record arrive but also the LP and tape of Klemperer's 1964 recording. The Solti CD calls for little additional comment, for since the LP is so good even the CD scarcely improves on it. I can only remind the reader that though the CD costs much more, it will last infinitely longer. But the arrival of the Klemperer has altered my views about the advances in recording over the last 25 years; for his, although now digitally remastered, and processed by DMM, is nevertheless near enough in date to Walter's to make a comparison fair. I decided, however, to let what I had written stand, since it refers to the same coupling: but I have to say that a really good recording of the period like Klemperer's, produced by a very gifted producer (the famed Walter Legge) and made in a hall with an admirable acoustic (the Kingsway Hall in London) is enormously better than Walter's and, indeed, in its way is almost as good as Solti's. The sound of the Philharmonia is very different from that of the VPO: leaner and less plush—but I cannot fault it in any way. It is as different, too, as the personalities of the two conductors.
The Unfinished under Klemperer has a swifter performance than Solti gives it, which may surprise some readers. The first movement, in particular, is very considerably so: but the whole thing is so beautifully phrased and played that there is never any suggestion of hurry. There is a good difference between degrees of softness, though nothing like so subtle as from the Solti. The amazing thing is that the Klemperer is as good as it is.
Symphony No. 5 starts better than from anyone. It cannot be said that Klemperer is the equal of Beecham for conveying the sheer delight of the passage—he was, again, another kind of conductor—but all the notes are at least heard; and he always took care of his woodwind, often hushing the strings to an extent that they were using about one hair of the bow (as one player remarked to me), and this is an asset in Schubert. A very flowing andante con moto has the characteristic small accents on the horns and oboes where marked. Klemperer always observed that sort of thing most carefully. The Trio of the Minuet is a slight disappointment, with Klemperer going through it without any expression; nor is the finale, though well played, exactly bubbling with delight. All the same, this is a most remarkable achievement and at a bargain price may be seriously considered against the Solti.'