Sandor Végh is not the likeliest of artists to receive
                the star treatment, with his odd facial expression, multitude
                of chins, disheveled hair, and habit of conducting with his spectacles,
                but his name here is printed larger than Schubert’s, and
                his photograph graces the cover. Végh is not the star
                here because someone thinks he is photogenic: rather, this release
                is a testament to the importance of his artistic legacy. The
                longtime violinist from the Végh Quartet put over five
                decades of service into the world of classical music before his
                death in 1997, and these performances of the four last Schubert
                symphonies are a testament to his elegant, ego-free work with
                the Camerata Academica des Mozarteums Salzburg, which he led
                for nearly two decades. 
                
                The 
Symphony No. 5 gets off to a rocky start, the violins
                not perfect in their intonation when they make their entrance;
                from there, however, it is mostly smooth sailing, in a genial
                and perfectly paced performance that is a testament to Végh’s
                sensitivity as a Schubertian. He will be let down by his violins
                again, however, in the finale, when they occasionally develop
                an unpleasantly scratchy tone. 
                
                The 
Sixth fares better: with a substantially larger orchestra
                - Schubert’s Fifth doesn’t call for clarinets, trumpets
                or timpani - and the strings in better form, this performance
                is substantially more enjoyable. The slow movement’s central
                episode is brought off with great humor and wit, descriptions
                which also apply to the very satisfying last two movements. The
                finale, in particular, comes across as a never-ending flow of
                jovial ideas. 
                
                The “Unfinished” is, to my mind, the highlight of
                the set. Played here with integrity, solid good sense, and, at
                the first movement’s climax, lots of drama, this “Unfinished” confirms
                the common remark that its nickname is inaccurate. As I listened
                to the stately elegance with which the slow movement sways to
                its close, I could not help but think that this, not the Brahms
                First, is “Beethoven’s Tenth Symphony”: a work
                mirroring, in ways, the structure of Beethoven’s piano
                sonatas opp. 90, 109 and 111, in that it begins in turbulence
                and heroic striving and ends in repose, in the gentle arms of
                a broad, meditative slow movement. Surely this is the closest
                orchestral cousin of those magnificent late Beethoven works,
                especially in the hands of performers as attuned as these are
                to both the fire of the first movement and the ageless beauty
                of the second. Ultimately the “Beethoven’s Tenth” title
                is, at least historically, folly, because the “Unfinished” was
                written before Beethoven’s Ninth! 
                
                The “Great” C major symphony is given a suitably
                great performance; one of the most magical moments is the very
                beginning, with a tastefully hushed horn solo and very natural
                entrances of all the other instruments. The introduction is a
                bit slower than normal, the rest of the movement a little faster,
                but there is certainly no loss of flow or naturalness. Though
                the slow movement is much slower than is the norm - Végh
                takes 16 minutes, compared to the nearly exactly 14 minutes of
                Harnoncourt and both Mackerras recordings - it never loses tension
                or becomes boring. Its beautiful second subject blooms with restrained
                elegance, as a fragile flower. The final two movements dance
                by with terrific rhythm, and the finale is blessed with superb
                oboe and flute playing - as is the entire 2CD set, in fact. 
                
                Throughout the recording of this last symphony the bass is rather
                more prevalent than it has been in the other three, much to my
                delight. It is possible, in the first movement’s introduction,
                to hear the double-bass pizzicatos all the way through, one of
                several delights of the clear recorded sound here. Audio quality
                in the other symphonies is variable, as these appear to be from
                different sessions or different concerts, but it is never less
                than very good and no listener will be disappointed in the sound. 
                
                The liner-notes are disappointing, however; although there is
                a good essay on the music, we are given no information about
                the provenance of the recordings, even what year(s) they were
                made. And, although the ‘wallet’ package is much
                nicer than the typical plastic jewel box, it is not particularly
                appetizing to open the set up and see three identical portraits
                of the jowled Végh staring back. 
                
                All in all, I cannot imagine this set leaping off the shelves
                in the hands of beginning Schubertians, owing to the distinctly
                unflattering cover photo of Végh, glasses in hand; I also
                do not think these two discs will be fully satisfying to Végh’s
                devoted followers, since the booklet notes offer no information
                whatsoever about the provenance of the performances: were they
                live? When were they made? Where? On the other hand, if the target
                audience is a crowd of discerning collectors looking for solid,
                sympathetic readings of these symphonies with wit and grace,
                this two-disc set hits home.
                
                
Brian Reinhart