Liszt’s symphonic poems positively thrive on temperament and Giuseppe Sinopoli obliges with a quartet of performances that combine imagination, panache and some appropriately uninhibited orchestral playing. Les preludes benefits from the VPO’s characteristically sweet-centred violin tone (at 5'02'' and 9'41'') and when the cumulative “Struggle for Freedom” marches in at 15'21'', Sinopoli responds with power and pomp. Orpheus alludes, albeit indirectly, both to the Faust Symphony (“Gretchen”) and to Siegfried’s Wanderer and, again, the performance to hand is richly perceptive, not least in the ethereal last minute or so (try from 11'56'').
Mazeppa’s ride is both rugged and forceful, with close-set strings, vividly crescendoing winds and startlingly realistic timps. If you can take the bruising brass-and-drums sonorities at, say, 2'54'', then you will almost certainly thrill to the rest (I did, at least at a first hearing). Some readers, however, might find the recording just a mite too forwardly balanced. The triumphal close is very exciting and, with its Hungarian allusions, forges an effective musical bridge to the Second Hungarian Rhapsody. Again, I have no complaints about the performance, nor the recording for that matter; but Doppler’s restless orchestration changes colour with alarming frequency and plays havoc with Liszt’s original. It even upstages those novel refashionings that Schoenberg and his school prepared near the turn of the century, which is perhaps why Sinopoli chose it. My own preference would be for something rather more respectful of the piano score (an adorable war-horse) and I cannot think of a more riveting alternative than Stokowski’s versicoloured vintage stereo recording on a mid-price RCA Living Stereo CD. In other respects, however, Sinopoli’s programme has plenty of clout and should please those who require a single CD of this engaging repertoire.'