Quite why this July 1995 coupling has taken so long to reach us is a mystery. It was made at the Mikaeli Hall in Finland and the recorded balance, especially of the lower strings, is dramatically close-set. The performance of the Symphony goes hell for leather, but picks up some nice detail en route, such as the quiet and expressive clarinet that winds down towards the cataclysmic development section (9'27'') or the vivid (unmarked) crescendo over the brass lines at 11'25'' (a nice touch). Gergiev's enthusiastic orchestra isn't quite up to articulating clearly at speed, and by slowing down at fig M (12'10'') he affects an unwarranted dip in tension. I found the second movement rather plodding and the third, although viscerally exciting, wanting in clarity.
I know that, in some quarters, referring back to the old, tried and tested is considered wearisome, but in this particular case St Petersburg has a Tchaikovsky legacy we simply cannot ignore. Evgeni Mravinsky's second DG Pathetique set a standard that, to be perfectly honest, has not been matched in the 40-odd years since it was first released. That performance is cast along similar lines to Gergiev's, except that crucial shifts in temperature - animando (becoming animated) as opposed to accelerando (speeding up) - are so much better judged. In Mravinsky's hands, the third movement is a miracle of precision, and the finale enjoys the benefit of scrupulously judged dynamics (the first violins' entry in the Andante episode is truly pianissimo). It's a pity that on that particular occasion Mravinsky (or his engineers) did not see fit to divide the Leningrad violins - but no matter, the results are devastating, and the stereo recording still sounds amazingly good.
Gergiev adds a forthright and often exciting Romeo and Juliet Fantasy Overture, again closely miked and with ear-splitting cymbal crashes. But competition is fierce, and I couldn't really say that it surpasses its best rivals. One for Gergiev's fans, I'd say. Others should shop around.'