Lorin Maazel’s Mahler cycle with the Vienna Philharmonic was nothing if not tonally distinctive, the Fourth and Seventh being spectacular highlights, the others a box of mixed blessings. These Philharmonia remakes of the first three symphonies, the initial instalment of a complete live cycle (though I wasn’t once aware of an audience and there is no applause), show how much Maazel has rethought his approach to the music. The tale begins to tell as soon as the main body of the First’s opening movement is in full flow, at 4'41" where here the trumpet signals a subtle increase in tempo. In Vienna the tempo remains stable. Everywhere one notices more light and shade than before, a brighter countenance and a keener feel for nature, always a high priority among Mahlerian prerequisites. The Ländler-style second movement bounds in at a much quicker tempo than before, and in the third movement, the folksy episode with oboes and trumpet (2'31") smiles more willingly and the tender string- and harp-writing soon afterwards gains in affection. Maazel and Mahler seem more at one with each other than they were in Vienna, even though there can be no denying the Austrian orchestra’s burnished tone and smooth virtuosity. The Philharmonia come across as less tonally distinctive (specifically among the strings) but sound more responsive, especially the woodwinds, who point their phrases with added character and precision.

The downtrodden quiet marching episode at around 8'57" into the first movement of the Resurrection has more tension in London (a little more breathing space too, as does the huge finale), the terror-filled, brass dominated return of the opening alarm (12'50"), greater shock value. The Andante’s opening has a subtler lilt as shared among the Philharmonia strings but the sheer classiness of the Viennese string sound brings with it a uniquely seductive appeal that for some may well swing the balance in its favour. Then again, the Philharmonia Scherzo has an impishness that the Viennese alternative lacks (sample the opening). When it comes to ‘Urlicht’, for all the warmth and inwardness that Michelle DeYoung brings to this sublime song, Jessye Norman in Vienna, with her veiled tone and tighter vibrato, delivers a performance of surpassing beauty that DeYoung doesn’t quite match, at least not on this occasion. But then there’s the finale, a canvas as vast as it’s rich in perspectives. Maazel’s approach is fairly consistent in both versions, Sally Matthews in London every bit as affecting as Eva Marton in Vienna. As a performance, it works well; though, to be truthful, once heard complete, I came away less moved than I have been under other conductors. Maazel has as fine an ear as any maestro on this planet but somehow, unless I’m missing something, the uplifting denouement of this symphony remains strangely earthbound.

Scale is a crucial attribute of the Third Symphony, and you need only sample this new version of the opening, replete with thunderous bass drum thwacks, to realise that its predecessor packs less of a wallop. The mock military march episode at 22'58", with its squealing woodwinds, is virtually identical tempo-wise to the Vienna performance but Signum’s recording achieves a fuller canvas, with a more clearly defined bass drum at the end. I prefer the freer, swifter tempo for the balletic Scherzando second movement (the Vienna version sounds a mite plodding), though the second section is similarly sedate. The one disappointment here is that the posthorn solo, beautifully played though it is, sounds as if set within the orchestra rather than somewhere offstage, as is the case – to magical effect – on the VPO recording. Mezzo Sarah Connolly is a fair match for Agnes Baltsa in the Nietzsche fourth movement and it’s interesting how Maazel has his oboist play with eerie-sounding glissandos, something he didn’t call for from his Viennese counterpart. The paean to love that concludes the work ends in a blaze of glory, though its opening bars rather lack affection.

Summing up, I feel that it would be unfair to call on comparisons when I have yet to hear the rest of the cycle. That way the pros and cons become meaningful; but what I can say, given the evidence of this particular set, is that in general I prefer Maazel’s London Mahler to its Viennese predecessor.