The first thing to strike one about the new DG version of this ever-magical score is its dynamic range, which is extraordinarily, indeed uncomfortably, wide: as both LP and CD are recorded at an unusually low level the first page is all but inaudible unless the volum e is turned well up—in fact I wondered for some time whether my equipment was functioning properly—which then makes the climaxes so shattering that any alert passing policeman would look up speculatively. There is superlative playing by the Vienna Philharmonic, the chorus is mostly admirable (though, like its rivals, its chording in the a capella section midway through the ballet is not ideal), and James Levine's direction has a flexibility and tonal sensitivity which for once seem to have escaped Previn, whose climaxes, in particular, burst upon the ear too abruptly. The chief gain of Previn's CD over his LP is its blessedly total freedom from extraneous noises in the hushed passages; but whereas the almost clinical clarity of his interpretation might suggest the luminosity of Greek skies, Levine's performance holds more of that land's atmospheric warmth.
It does not displace, as my first choice, the superb Dutoit/Decca disc—the sensuous evocation of the classical love story there is still something to marvel at, and Dutoit's frenzied final Bacchanale (which Previn keeps so deliberately reined in) sends a tingle down the spine which has yet to be paralleled—but Levine's reading contains many memorable passages. There is excitement and brilliant articulation in the pirates' warlike dance, and a vivid moment when they scatter at the terrifying apparition of the god Pan (though, curiously enough, there is some underplaying of the eeriness of Pan's manifestation at the nymphs' plea); the grotesqueness of Dorcon's dance is emphasized with relish. Levine sometimes departs from customary internal balances; for instance, in the Day-break sequence he subordinates the theme rising in the bass in favour of the murmur of the waterfall, thereby producing a less intene and voluptuous crescendo than is usually made here. As if in compensation, however, he produces a wonderfully rapturous moment when Daphnis and Chloe are reunited and embrace.
In one technical respect the Levine CD scores over its rivals: it is an advantage to be able to summon up any one of 11 tracks at the touch of a button instead of having to hare through the whole disc to find a desired section.'