With this fine account of the First Symphony, Vladimir Ashkenazy and the Philharmonia Orchestra complete their Sibelius cycle for Decca—and triumphantly, too! The Karelia suite is the most common coupling though on CD Neeme Jarvi on BIS offers Finlandia and Sir Alexander gibson and the SNO on Chandos give us the Seventh Symphony, no less: so, too, does Paavo Berglund (HMV) on his mid-price LP. Simon Rattle's coupling (on LP only) is rather special: an outstanding performance of The Oceanides and alone almost worth the price of the record. His HMV recording is very good indeed, as are the two CD rivals, but taken purely in terms of sound this Decca newcomer is quite simply the best of all. It has superb detail and clarity of texture and there is all the presence and body one could ask for. The range at the bottom end of the spectrum is remarkable and the bass drum rolls are particularly realistic!
Vladimir Ashkenazy began his Sibelius project six years ago with the Second Symphony (SXDL7513, 11/80; CD 410 206-2DH, 4/84), a performance that won wider acclaim than I, personally, think it deserved. I felt—and still feel—very much out-of-step with the overall critical verdict. For me its first two movements are insufficiently taut by the side of Kajanus's 1930 record which enjoyed the composer's imprimatur (World Records—nla), or such later versions as Stokowski (dell'Arte), Szell (Philips—nla) and, above all, Jarvi (BIS). I also thought that Ashkenazy's Fourth Symphony (SXDL7517, 5/81; CD 400 056-2DH, 3/83), powerful and dramatic though it is in its way, really lacked the kind of concentration brought to it by Beecham in 1937 (World Records—nla) and Karajan in 1966 (DG). This is not to deny that he evokes the Sibelian landscape, both inner and outer, with instinctive sympathy.
His account of the First Symphony—like those of the Sixth (414 267-1DH; CD 414 267-2DH, 8/85) and Seventh (SXDL7580, 3/83; CD 411 935-2DH, 10/84) and Tapiola, which is coupled with the Seventh—is a strong one, arguably as successful artistically as it is in terms of recorded sound and further evidence, if such is needed, of his growing mastery as a conductor. It is well held together and finely shaped: it is every bit as committed as Simon Rattle's with his Birmingham orchestra but free from the occasional mannerism that disfigured that account. Ashkenazy is exactly on target in the Scherzo (dotted minim = 104), fractionally faster than Karajan and much more so than Rattle who is far too measured here (both HMV). the resultant sense of momentum is exhilarating. The very opening of the work is strongly projected and boldly contrasted with the movement which grows out of it. In fact, this first movement has real grip—and a powerful sense of the architecture of the movement. But throughout, the sheer physical excitement this score engenders is tempered by admirable control. Only at the end of the slow movement did I feel that Ashkenazy could perhaps have afforded greater emotional restraint.
The playing of the Philharmonia Orchestra is of the very first order. The Karelia suite is very good indeed and the middle movement, ''Ballade'', is fresh and imaginative. (I wish, incidentally, that a longer gap had been left between it and the ''Intermezzo''.) While allegiances to earlier accounts remain, this newcomer must now be the preferred.'