Levine's performance of the Symphonie fantastique is in some respects a curious one. Its virtues are not inconsiderable. The playing is uniformly beautiful (down to such details as the graceful phrasing of the bassoons in the ''Marche au supplice'' before the return of the brass). The lines are shapely, and very carefully moulded by Levine. The sound is rich (and well captured by the recording), with a sumptuous brass section and silky violins. The opening is elegantly poised, the move forward into the idee fixe well controlled and nicely timed. Oboe and cor anglais in the ''Scene aux champs'' sound, across their distance, as if really responding to one another.
Yet the whole never becomes more than the sum of these admirable parts. Levine is almost too controlled, and though the performance is not exactly marked by the kind of ruthless selfindulgence the work can encourage in some maestros, it sets its sights on Berlioz as a great orchestrator rather than Berlioz as an astonishingly original symphonic writer, with a completely novel vision. The ball scene is depersonalized, lacking the erotic tingle of Berlioz's glimpse of the beloved. There is little sense of surprise here when the march theme is so efficiently introduced, rather than the music being horribly taken over by it. The chord at the end is a brilliantly performed unison, not the drop of the guillotine's knife. And so on. The performance can scarcely be faulted from one bar to another. It is not, though, very fantastic.
Matters begin badly for Previn with a gabbled opening to Le corsaire. The orchestra can play it at this precipitous speed, but the articulation is not helped, and even the obviously intended sense of dangerous excitement is diminished when the notes are so rushed and when the recording cannot really catch them clearly. The thrill is better won by other means. The opening of the Symphonie fantastique is also a little uncertain: Previn goes for a very slow, foreboding atmosphere, which is really less appropriate than a mood of wistful lyricism (suggested by the reminiscence of the old love song) tinged with apprehension. The waltz does not have such a natural verve as in some other performances, with the little rubatos sounding rather laboured.
Matters go better in the ''Scene aux champs'', with the oboe placed at a very well-judged distance, and the tempo and orchestral balance equally judicious. This is fine, elegant playing. The ''Marche au supplice'' lacks the kick that one would expect from Previn, who has given many fine performances of the work and surely will do so again, but seems here not at his most comfortable. So, bearing in mind the new Davis disc, recommendations remain.'