How, I wonder, would Gustav Mahler have reacted to the implied attention-deficit at the quiet start of one of his finest songs, “Wo die schönen Trompeten blasen”, with its heartbreaking echoes of war and love, the orchestral introduction played to a visual accompaniment of distracted hall-scanning, as if the initial absence of a voice had induced insufferable boredom? It’s bad enough when members of the audience feel fidgety and of course I appreciate that, given the context, there are limited options (the recently refurbished Severance Hall in Cleveland is, after all, extremely handsome), but surely a single well-chosen point of focus would have been preferable.

Still, the plus-points outweigh the minuses. Magdalena KoΩená is an engaging performer; a sensitive one too, who tellingly alters her expressive demeanour between the close of the carefree “Wer hat dies Liedlein erdacht?” and the anguished start of “Das irdische Leben”. She relates well to her audience (“Lob des hohen Verstandes” draws forth a quiet chorus of titters) and, while Christian Gerhaher is rather more formal in his approach, they’re a nicely matched pair and Pierre Boulez cues a discreet accompaniment. Also, the visual interplay between soloists makes more sense in the songs than in the symphony.

As to the music itself, Boulez explains in a bonus interview the problems posed by having to negotiate a movement with only two basic tempo markings as guidance; but given the evidence of his lucidly flowing performance you’d never know that Mahler’s directions were anything less than fastidious and plentiful. The interview itself is of considerable interest but concerning the Tenth the one question I expected to see pop up on the screen (for some reason the interviewer’s voice has been edited out) was “how do you feel about completed versions of the symphony?”

No joy there, I’m afraid. Many readers will know that the programme is already available on a Deutsche Grammophon CD (11/10) and, while Accentus Music specify the concert dates as February 11-13, 2010 and DG quote only “2/2010”, both sound much the same, even though the timings differ slightly for some of the songs. Franz Welser-Möst’s Cleveland Bruckner Eighth enjoys superior production values, with next to no wandering lenses and visual images that invariably correspond to what we’re hearing, which, unusually, is Leopold Nowak’s edition of the 1887 original (earlier Cleveland recordings under Szell and Dohnányi feature the 1890/Nowak and 1887/90/Haas editions respectively). In a bonus interview, Welser-Möst merely alludes to his chosen edition (he has played others, apparently), but those who know their Bruckner Eighth and aren’t as yet acquainted with the 1887 version are in for a shock. Some of the music is quite different to what we normally hear (the Scherzo’s Trio, for example) and although the overall architecture is familiar, sort of, there are countless links and bridges that aren’t.

As to the performance (which is very well recorded), no one could accuse the Clevelanders of lacking commitment: the strings in particular look and sound intensely involved (rare in Bruckner) and Welser-Möst boldly holds the whole unwieldy edifice together. Indeed, if you fancy putting aside 90 or so minutes for an expansive take on one of the greatest symphonies ever composed, then you won’t be wasting your time.

I would be fascinated to hear from any reader who learns the symphony from this version then switches to the more concise 1890 alternative. How would it seem that way round? From this end the longer version suggests necessary trimming, but that may well be because I know and love the shorter score already. Try it and let me know.