This isn’t a new reissue.
Barbirolli completists will recognise
this as a previous Dutton release on
CDSJB1003 and now revamped in their
CDBP line without alteration. So we
still have the trio of Haydn symphony
recordings made between 1949 and 1953,
the last of which – No.88 – was never
issued and thus is a more than welcome
survivor.
Barbirolli was a Haydn
conductor of long-standing and the rugged
and expressive maturity he brings to
this trio of works is one of particular
identification. As ever this is at its
most prominent in the gravity of the
slow movements but it’s also affirmed
in the rusticity of the Minuets, a strength
abetted by the wind principals who are
the superior of the string sections
in individuality and corporate imagination.
A live Barbirolli/Hallé
recording of No.83 exists and has been
issued by the BBC. It shares the same
qualities that inform JB’s 1949 Kingsway
Hall recording. The second subject of
the first movement (Barbirolli used
to joke that he didn’t know what a second
subject was; it was a critics’ word)
is flecked with the subtlest of humour
and metrical displacement, tuttis are
trenchant, forceful, not always, it’s
true, especially streamlined. The strings
were not quite responsive enough in
1949 and the slow movement tends to
be very slightly let down by them, though
the cantilever of his conducting is
fine, and the affectionate, lithe Minuet
is graced by most attractive winds.
Flutes to the fore (the Hale flutes
were outstanding) and oboes not far
behind, the finale is a bold, affectionate
affair. String weight tends to compensate
for refinement but boldness wins out.
No.88 suffers initially
from a touch of ensemble imprecision,
which may or may not have contributed
to its having been withheld. But the
balance is good and Barbirolli takes
both first movement repeats, which shows
how forward thinking he was back in
1953.He contrives a noble spaciousness
in the slow movement. Dynamics sound
scrupulously prepared – note the shading
and tapering of string phrases, and
note too the obvious care over articulation.
That the expressive effect is won through
careful preparation can be in no doubt
and as anyone who has heard a Barbirolli
rehearsal will attest he could be extremely
finicky over the smallest detail. Big
boned and witty – that’s the Allegretto
– and the rustic winds and drones are
cherishable.
We can detect somewhat
more suave string playing in the 1952
recording of The Miracle
than the earlier 1949 disc. The recording
quality in the Free Trade Hall in Manchester
is excellent – it was presided over
by Lawrance Collingwood and David Bicknell
– and the heroes of the session were
once again the wind section. The highpoint
is surely the Andante, a deft example
of Barbirolli’s unfolding of melody
through acute preparation. The solos
for solo violin and cello are well taken,
nicely balanced; the chattering winds
bring personality and rhythmic bite
to the proceedings.
The documentation retains
Michael Kennedy’s 1995 notes and this
reissue will, one hopes, give renewed
interest to these warm hearted and generous
performances.
Jonathan Woolf