As his German award-winning account of the Fifth Symphony with the Philharmonia Orchestra reaffirmed (HMV ASD4168, 4/82), Simon Rattle is a Sibelian of the first order. He has recorded the Second Symphony with the CBSO, who gave a stirring account of the work at the 1983 Proms. They play with fervour and enthusiasm except, perhaps, in the first movement where the voltage is lower—particularly in the development, which is not easy to bring off, and which can easily sound laboured. This impression may be reinforced by Rattle's choice of tempo, slightly steadier than I had remembered from that concert. Rattle's is not the Allegretto of the pioneering Kajanus recording (World Records mono SH191/2, 4/74—nla), or Beecham's 1954 concert performance (HMV mono ALP1947, 11/62—nla) let alone Jarvi's recent CD-only version (BIS/Conifer CD252, 10/84). Indeed, he is in fact slightly broader than Karajan in either of his recordings—his earlier 1961 version on HMV (SXLP30414, 1/80) is now deleted—and the playing less fine-grained. Admittedly he is not so measured in this movement as Barbirolli and the RPO on RCA (GL25011, 10/76—nla). In fact, the nearest I can think of so far as tempo and character are concerned, is Sir Colin Davis and the Boston Symphony Orchestra (Philips 6709 011, 9/77-part of a 5-LP boxed set), even if the overall impression one has from Sir Colin is tauter.
I like the slow movement very much. It is fullblooded and gutsy, convincing even when Rattle arrests the flow of the argument by underlining the cellos' response to the agitated strings (ten bars after B). He pulls this line a little out of shape here and on its repetitions in a way that has no authority in the score but which sounds totally convincing. The poco largamente section a little later (fig. D) has tremendous grandeur and breadth in his hands and highlights the affecting second group, where the Birmingham strings produce a wonderfully hushed pianopianissimo tone. The scherzo is bracing enough though in the trio there is an agogic mannerism for which I do not greatly care: the cello line echoing the oboe (four bars after letter E) marked espressivo is dragged out (Karajan on HMV is quite straight at this point and so are many other rivals) and in the second trio, the oboe line itself is caressed even more and the section is in danger of sounding sentimentalized. However, the transition to the finale is magnificant and Rattle finds the tempo giusto in this movement. The Birmingham strings, incidentally, produce a splendidly fervent unison here—and elsewhere in the symphony. The recording is very alive though I wished the perspective offered greater depth. The Decca engineers produced marvellous transparency of texture yet warmth and presence for Ashkenazy, who has the benefit of the Philharmonia, and the 1961 HMV version with Karajan and that orchestra has more realistically placed wind, and more air round the various orchestral sections.
As a fill-up, Rattle and the CBSO give an imaginative and poetic account of the ''Scene with cranes'' from the incidental music to Kuolema, from which ''Valse triste'' also comes. It is generally more sensitive than its only current rival—first issued in 1971—by Paavo Berglund and the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra (HMV SLS5269 11/82—part of a two-LP boxed set). A very good Second, then, and one which can be recommended with some confidence.'