Both the symphonies were, of course, staples of Toscanini’s 
          repertoire. He had recorded the fourth movement of No. 5 during his 
          first recording sessions, in 1920, on tour with the La Scala Orchestra. 
          However it wasn’t until RCA Victor sought ways around his frustration 
          with the technical limitations of sound reproduction that Toscanini’s 
          recording career began in earnest. 
        
 
        
This 1933 recording of the Fifth Symphony was the second 
          attempt to capture his interpretation – the 1931 optical film recording 
          was never approved for release at the time; Naxos will be bringing out 
          their transfer of that in the fifth volume of their laudable series 
          of reissues devoted to all the Philharmonic- Symphony recordings. Similarly 
          the Seventh had already been captured with the BBC Symphony Orchestra, 
          available with other superb Queen’s Hall performances on BBCL40162 
          when, the following year, 1936, Victor employed a two-turntable 
          system to record the symphony, to Toscanini’s satisfaction. 
        
 
        
The vagaries and complexities of the several attempts 
          to record Toscanini’s Beethoven, whilst never as labyrinthine as those 
          of his supposed antipode, Furtwängler, (provenance, dating, questions 
          of attribution) nevertheless presents the listener with complicated 
          choices. Toscanini’s 1930s readings are lyrically superior to 
          the later NBC discs; they are freer in tempo and richer in phrasing. 
          Orchestral sonorities are broader and deeper. That said the 1931 recording 
          of the Fifth is preferable to this 1933 traversal, powerful and direct 
          though the latter undoubtedly is. The Seventh has tremendous reserves 
          of expressive power and the rhythmic attack is of galvanizing intensity 
          to a degree remarkable even for Toscanini. The orchestra was an instrument 
          capable of optimum flexibility and virtuosity. It is a remarkable document. 
        
 
        
Naxos, in common with their policy to release all the 
          Toscanini/Philharmonic-Symphony discs, includes two takes of the first 
          movement of the Seventh Symphony. Toscanini watchers can note the difference 
          of 23 seconds’ duration between them and draw appropriate conclusions. 
          The sound is generally fine on these discs, the restoration is by Mark 
          Obert-Thorn, and notes cover the discographical matters with comprehensive 
          zeal. 
        
           
        
Jonathan Woolf