Listening to the classic 1952 HMV set with Flagstad conducted by Furtwängler (see page 77), may not have been the kindest preparation for hearing this new version, but Christian Thielemann can well stand comparison with his legendary predecessor. Their readings are complementary: against Furtwängler’s grand, elemental view of the score Thielemann is more immediate, more personal.

Every moment of the drama in Thielemann’s hands is very present, with orchestral detail seldom if ever so clearly delineated. Nothing escapes this conductor’s eager eye and impulsive baton. His approach is undoubtedly helped by the warm, immaculate contribution of the VPO, even more perhaps by the clear and spacious recording which just about matches that on the most recent, studio-made version, under the Fürtwangler-like Barenboim.

When it comes to Isolde, best not to linger too long with Flagstad, Birgit Nilsson and their like. Deborah Voigt’s is a fundamentally lyrical voice, with a lighter sound more akin to that of Waltraud Meier (for Barenboim) and Margaret Price (for Kleiber), and my comparisons were mostly with those sopranos. It has to be said that Voigt is nothing like as secure as Price nor, in interpretation, as perceptive as either.

Too often she sounds like a petulant teenager in Act 1, and her rather shallow voice, with an insistent vibrato, isn’t very easy on the ear, not to mention her weak low notes. Meier may not have a more pleasing sound, but if you compare the two in the Narration and Curse, Meier – an experienced Isolde in the theatre and an instinctive singing-actress – makes every word tell and so conveys all Isolde’s anger and frustration. Hereabouts, it is Petra Lang’s Brangäne that is the more compelling, an urgent, anxious portrayal. Her voice and delivery are very much in the mould of Martha Mödl. Like her, Lang will surely become an imposing Isolde. Voigt is at her most telling in the central, reflective section of the love duet, where she has no need to force and her musical line matches that of her often-exemplary Tristan.

Thomas Moser – in his first Tristan – gives his most satisfying performance to date on disc. Seldom has the role been sung with such beauty and sensitivity, even when the level of identification is less certain in the first two acts and not on a par with Ludwig Suthaus (Furtwängler) or Ramon Vinay (Karajan). That is more to the fore in Tristan’s Act 3 ravings. Here Moser and Thielemann, who sometimes almost overwhelms his tenor, give a searing account of the huge tract of innovative music, but as soon as Voigt’s Isolde appears the temperature drops: neither her lament or Lieb- estod carry the needed eloquence and gravitas.

Peter Weber is a strong, sympathetic Kurwenal. Robert Holl’s grey tone is not inappropriate for Marke, and his diction is excellent, as befits a noted singer of Lieder, but Salminen (Barenboim), Talvela (Böhm) and Weber (Karajan), all true Wagnerian basses, are in a different class. The smaller roles are no more than adequately cast.

There is much that is viscerally exciting in this fastish and rather special Tristan, and Thielemann makes every bar and scene vibrate with inner life. Much of that can be said of the two Bayreuth sets, which are for the most part markedly better cast but obviously inferior in terms of sound, while Furtwängler remains hors concours. Kleiber, in the studio, generates as much theatrical excitement as Thielemann, and does not suffer from the clinking and clunking of what looks like a distinctly odd staging. I would just prefer it to the Barenboim, where modern versions are concerned, but for the noblest Wagnerian singing you have to go further back.