It is good news that Herbert Blomstedt is introducing audiences on the West Coast to the Berwald symphonies. Their freshness and originality are an unfailing source of delight. The Symphony in E flat is the sunniest of the four; its opening Allegro is wonderfully spirited and the second group has an irresistible charm. The Cinderella of the set is the first, the Sinfonie serieuse, written three years earlier in 1842, and the only one of his symphonies to be performed during his lifetime. Berwald composed an earlier Symphony in A major (1820) which survives only in fragmentary form, prompting the Swedish Berwald champion, Sten Broman to number the Serieuse No. 2. Berwald did in fact disown all his earlier pieces save the Septet; even the charming Violin Concerto was not exempt. Broman, incidentally, went so far as to number the E flat Symphony, No. 6, maintaining on somewhat slender evidence there were two wholly different versions of the Capricieuse! There is hardly any possibility of doubt since Berwald put No. 4 on the score. At one time he even called it Sinfonie naive but withdrew the title.
Blomstedt draws from the San Francisco thoughtful, civilized performances of both symphonies. He favours steadier tempos in both symphonies than Jarvi (or Ehrling, whose excellent LP of the Serieuse made in 1970 on the Swedish Radio's label never appeared in this country). He is also much broader than Jarvi in the first movement: the warm and immediate acoustic of the Gothenburg Concert Hall lends far more impact to their performance which radiates greater freshness and enthusiasm. The first movement of Blomstedt's account of the E flat Symphony is just a shade too stately and measured for my taste: Ehrling and Jarvi have the greater sparkle and pace though the wonderfully cultured playing Blomstedt produces gives great satisfaction. So does the slow movement which has a dignity and restraint that I find quite as affecting in its way as the red-blooded eloquence of earlier and current rivals. There is an aristocratic understatement and finesse that I like, though the readings have less communicative ardour than Jarvi—or for that matter Ehrling. The sun of the E flat Symphony gives illumination rather than warmth.
The Decca engineers produce an excellent balance and a truthful perspective though the acoustic of the hall does seem to produce a slightly chilly, rather top-heavy sound. To sum up, idiomatic, eminently cultured, and, as one would expect from a conductor of Blomstedt's artistry, well-shaped performances—judicious, laid-back some might say, and perhaps a little cool. Nevertheless, although these performances do not displace the rivals listed above, they can be recommended as thoughtful alternatives.'