A case of the promise of the earlier companion disc (Symphonies Nos. 1 and 4—CD80230, 10/90) being fulfilled and of one's worries about it being confirmed. Zinman's successful pursuit of clean articulation, classical poise and avoidance of rhetoric has produced performances that, put simply, sound inhibited. I'm sure the orchestra is capable of singing an ecstatic triple forte in the recapitulation of No. 3's first movement, but they seem to be dissuaded from giving us one (fig. N, 6'19''). Not for Zinman the Norringtonian (EMI) blaze here.
There are countless examples of thorough and highly perceptive preparation in matters of phrasing and dynamics. Zinman really does balance Schumann's textures with an acute ear for the special euphony of Schumann's sound world, his orchestration is here splendidly vindicated. The Baltimore Symphony Orchestra play like a fine modern chamber orchestra, and, inhibition aside, I prefer their cultured tones to the rougher cut of Norrington's period band.
The Adagio of No. 2 flows serenely; especially memorable are the simple solemnity of the wind harmonies at bar 20 (1'33'') and the intensity of the violins trills high above the stave after the main theme soars aloft (bar 54, 4'09''). But it is with the allegros of both symphonies that my main cause for concern lies. They move swiftly like Sawallisch's (mid-price EMI), yet, comparatively, lack real propulsive energy.
Then there's the sound: well blended, but as in Nos. 1 and 4, the big tuttis have little space in which to expand. So, for this coupling, Sawallisch on EMI, at the moment, remains in a class of his own (although new recordings are due from Chailly and Masur shortly); Zinman offers a fascinating alternative view, but it is not the whole story.'