Bernstein plays this symphony as though burningly intent on convincing every listener that it is a masterpiece, Mata as though its status as a masterpiece were established and in no need of proof. In Bernstein's light Mata may seem to be understating the work: the scherzo has a taut, spare energy but much less weight than in Bernstein's account; the slow movement has a fine intensity, capable of relaxing into grace and lyrical purity, but it never approaches Bernstein's transported, slightly Thespian poignancy. The colours of the finale are bright and crisp, the mood exhilaratingly joyous, and the sudden grinding of brakes and the gaze into the abyss beneath all this exuberance is less of a shock than in Bernstein's version, where the preceding optimism has been if anything a touch overstated.
It does not seem quite such a huge gesture of a symphony as it does in Bernstein's hands, in short, but in compensation for this the quieter emotions are more gravely stated (the first movement, after all, is marked ''with simple expression'', and throughout the work Mata often comes closer to this injunction than Bernstein). The strings in the scherzo's trio section have a hushed lyricism that I find more touching than Bernstein's heartfelt but rather over-the-top eloquence, the reminder of this mood at the centre of the slow movement seems a natural progression (with Bernstein it is a bit sudden, all the more so for his very slow tempo before it) and even the most fully-scored pages of the finale are never harsh or densely opaque as they sometimes are with Bernstein. Mata's players are not quite a match for the New York Philharmonic, but they are splendidly recorded: very cleanly and with a discreet clarification of the heavier passages; DG's live recording for Bernstein glares rather at times.
Mata's fill-ups make his version better value than Bernstein's. He gives a slightly deliberate account of the opening section of Danzon cubano, but then speeds up later. I was rather disconcerted by this (and by the very prominent and startlingly realistic solo piano) but may get used to it; it certainly recalls Copland's insistence on the essential stateliness of the danzon. If El salon Mexico does not have quite the fire of some performances, its rhythmic bounce and agreeable touch of sleaziness may presumably (since Mata comes from Mexico City) be taken as authentic.'