Alan Gilbert’s traversal of Nielsen’s 
          six symphonies concludes with this pairing. I’ve already reviewed 
          the previous instalments - 
Nos. 
          1 and 4 and 
Nos. 
          2 and 3 - and while I found things to admire in the latter, I was 
          much less complimentary about the former. My colleague Jack Lawson went 
          so far as to declare Gilbert’s Second and Third ‘one of 
          the finest CDs ever produced … period’ (
review); 
          he was slightly less enthusiastic about Nos. 1 and 4, where he commented 
          on the orchestra’s corporate character and lamented the lack of 
          risk-taking (
review). 
          The 21st-century NYP do indeed play with a refinement that, while admirable 
          in itself, doesn’t always serve this music so well.
  
          Mr Lawson invokes the spirit of Leonard Bernstein, whose Nielsen recordings 
          for Sony/CBS in the 1960s sound as fresh and febrile now as they did 
          then. Rather mischievously I’ve chosen Lenny’s Fifth – 
          with the flamboyant, old-style NYP – as my comparative version; 
          there are other fine accounts from the likes of 
Jukka-Pekka 
          Saraste, 
Ole 
          Schmidt and 
Michael 
          Schønwandt, but I’d be sorely tempted to take Bernstein’s 
          to my desert island. Listening to it in preparation for this review 
          I was forcefully reminded why this is such a classic; Lenny heightens 
          the work’s mood swings to thrilling effect and the performance 
          itself arcs and crackles like no other. Even the recording is good for 
          its age; it’s broad and beefy, although the strings are apt to 
          glare and there’s some break-up in the climaxes.
  
          One of the hallmarks of Gilbert’s Nielsen cycle is the generally 
          fine engineering – one expects nothing less from Dacapo – 
          but a full Avery Fisher Hall can sound rather dry. In terms of performance 
          Gilbert doesn’t make the start of this Fifth palpitate with barely 
          concealed emotion in the way that Bernstein does; clearly one goes for 
          the head, the other for the heart. These modern players major in clarity 
          and discipline; nothing illustrates this more tellingly than the snare 
          drum – Shostakovich, anyone? – which has little of the nerve-jangling 
          intensity that one hears from Bernstein's team.
  
          Gilbert is just too manicured in Nielsen’s manic moments; he doesn’t 
          screw up the tension nearly as effectively or as consistently as Lenny 
          does; indeed, the latter transfixes listeners with his increasingly 
          impassioned progress. That’s not to say he’s rushed or garbled, 
          just that he gives the music a strong – albeit extreme – 
          character and sense of purpose. That said, Bernstein doesn’t have 
          it all his own way, for if Gilbert prefers a longer fuse in the first 
          movement the pyrotechnics in the second are as spectacular and as intimidating 
          as any. The downside is that it feels too much like opportunistic overload; 
          iimpressive in iteslf it's curiously disconnected from what's gone before. 
          I've noticed this fitful tendency in the other recordings in the cycle, 
          and it's most distracting.
  
          Now here’s the thing; the NYP are no less assured for Bernstein, 
          and yet they have a distinct character and flair that's missing under 
          Gilbert. No doubt that has much to do with their unique, often turbulent, 
          relationship with Lenny. There’s a spontaneity, a give-and-take, 
          in their recordings from the 1950s and 1960s that I just don’t 
          hear today. Bernstein’s detractors will offer the standard riposte, 
          that those vintage performances are more about the man than the music; 
          perhaps, but I’d much rather hear this repertoire delivered with 
          expressive elasticity than with the po-faced precision heard here. In 
          fact it doesn’t have to be either/or, since Schmidt, Schønwandt 
          
et al play this music comparatively straight without undermining 
          its volatile temperament.
  
          Nielsen’s strangely oblique Sixth Symphony is well served by Schønwandt, 
          who clearly relishes the score’s Ivesian collisions and quirky 
          juxtapositions. 
Saraste 
          and 
Schmidt 
          have their strengths too, but it’s the latter who has the best 
          grasp of the symphony’s challenging architecture. Gilbert certainly 
          articulates the gurglesome start to the Sixth very well, and the rest 
          of the 
Tempo giusto is crisply done. The trouble is that I 
          find myself listening to the orchestra rather than the music, and that’s 
          hardly ideal in this ever-shifting musical landscape. True, the woodwind 
          playing in those chamber-like dialogues is ravishing and the rude interjections 
          are startling, but beyond that there's little to sustain one's interest.
  
          The crucial timps in the 
Humoreske are more dominant than they 
          would be in the concert hall, but then that applies to Schønwandt as 
          well. However, when it comes to interpretive insights the latter is 
          much to be preferred; indeed, the rougher Danes drill straight down 
          to the symphony’s subtext, whereas their super-svelte American 
          counterparts barely scratch the surface. That said, the silky NYP strings 
          at the start of the 
Proposta seria are a joy to hear, as is 
          the level of detail and timbral sophistication captured by the Dacapo 
          engineers. Make no mistake, though, the rival versions Iisted above 
          aren't that far behind in terms of sound; what they might lack in sheer 
          amplitude they more than make uo for in conviction and coherence.
  
          If you’re looking for shadows here – for things that go 
          bump in the night – then you’ll be disappointed, for Gilbert 
          plays the 
Tema con variazioni with the lights blazing. It’s 
          left to Schønwandt to make the most of the score’s spectral episodes; 
          he also handles the dark waltz far more convincingly than Gilbert does. 
          Ditto those hammering intrusions, which ought to be far more terrifying 
          than Gilbert allows. Even 
Osmo 
          Vänskä, who recorded the work in 1999 as part of his underrated 
          BIS cycle, finds far more incident and atmosphere in the finale. The 
          big-boned recording is terrific – listen to that bass drum – 
          and the BBC Scottish Symphony play with gusto throughout.
  
          I’m always happy to celebrate exemplary musicianship and top-notch 
          sonics, both of which are present here in abundance, but without that 
          all-important intellectual/emotional connection such excellence doesn’t 
          count for much. Taken 
in toto Gilbert’s recorded Nielsen 
          is just too calculated for my tastes, and it doesn’t begin to 
          challenge the best in the catalogue. Still, it’s a beautifully 
          presented package that's sure to appeal more to others than it does 
          to me.
  
          The sound and the fury, signifying very little; old rivals still hold 
          sway.
  
  
Dan Morgan
           twitter.com/mahlerei
			FootnoteThe 5.0 surround track has an 
			unfortunate fault. The right and centre channels are reversed. This 
			completely throws an otherwise fine recording because the sound 
			field collapses to the left. If the user can easily reverse the R 
			and C leads then the sound picture is excellent. 
Dave 
			Billinge