These are halcyon days for Manfred Honeck and the 
          Pittsburgh Symphony, with each new disc emerging to almost universal 
          acclaim. Recently John Quinn welcomed their coupling of Dvořák’s 
          Eighth Symphony and a symphonic suite based on Janáček’s 
          opera 
Jenůfa (
review). 
          I’ve only encountered Honeck and the PSO in Mahler’s Fifth 
          which, although very decent, is a little too safe for my tastes (
review). 
          That said, this is clearly a partnership that works; they've since parted 
          company with Exton, but their recordings are still done by Soundmirror. 
          When RR do all the work themslves the results are superb; indeed, their 
          recent 
Organ 
          Polychrome is one of the best things I've heard this year.
  
          When it comes to well-established repertoire conducted by legends one 
          is apt to look askance at newcomers; it’s all been done before, 
          and so eloquently, too. Those were my thoughts as I listened to Honeck’s 
          Bruckner Fourth for the first time. It was a most unusual and somewhat 
          disconcerting experience; and then I remembered that John Quinn characterised 
          Honeck’s Dvořák Eighth as ‘a far from conventional 
          performance’. Having recalibrated my critical antennae – 
          which meant suppressing powerful memories of Karl Böhm, Günter Wand, 
          Sergiu Celibidache 
et al - I went back and listened again.
  
          The mist-shrouded start to the first movement is as atmospheric as I’ve 
          ever heard it, and those disembodied horn-calls are very well caught. 
          When the sun breaks through it does so with a burst of heat and light 
          that had me blinking with surprise and delight. Now it’s been 
          a very long time since this music had that effect on me. And what follows 
          is shaped and scaled in a most convincing way; that means Honeck avoids 
          – or at the very least minimises – the occasional join or 
          gear change. Not only that, he ensures the gentler music shoots and 
          flowers most beautifully.
  
          In Claudio Abbado’s final recording of Bruckner’s Ninth 
          I was struck by how the ailing maestro teased out details that are so 
          often obliterated in more impassive performances. There’s something 
          of that here, with Honeck arranging the Brucknerian bouquet with a keen 
          eye for disposition anc colour; that he does so without seeming to dawdle 
          is even more impressive. He’s also a little brisker than most 
          at times, and that’s no bad thing. As for those fabled tuttis 
          the PSO brass are simply magnificent. Honeck doesn’t linger here 
          either, and that crisp intensity is very bracing indeed.
  
          Now this 
is an intriguing Bruckner Fourth, so familiar in some 
          ways and yet so unexpected in others. It’s clear that Honeck has 
          come to this venerable score with his own ideas, and the results – 
          which won’t please everyone – are generally palate-cleansing. 
          Remarkably Honeck manages to accommodate the composer’s inward, 
          more delicate sensibilities – as heard in the efflorescent 
Andante 
          – with his bolder, more public gestures and still hold them in 
          some sort of equilibrium. And while I miss Böhm’s unique Viennese 
          horns the PSO’s – glowing, gorgeous – are as noble 
          and commanding as one could wish.
  
          Alas, that sense of renewal fades a little in the famous ‘hunting 
          scherzo’, although the music does at least gallop ahead without 
          threatening to unseat its riders 
à la Solti. In spite of that 
          momentum does flag and one's thoughts are apt to wander; the upside, 
          if there is one, is that we’re treated to some discursive but 
          lovely musings along the way. As for the finale it has the necessary 
          pulse and power, and while Honeck doesn’t build climaxes with 
          the implacable authority of, say, Celibidache, I doubt anyone will complain. 
          With Alan Gilbert’s New York Nielsen still fresh in my mind it 
          occurred to me that the PSO have a more European sound than the NY, 
          Minnesota or Cleveland bands; they may not be as streamlined – 
          as self-consciously metropolitan – as their illustrious rivals, 
          but my goodness they have tremendous flexibility and character.
  
          it 's a pity that Honeck, generally so judicious in matters of pacing 
          in the first two movements, seems to lose focus in the third and fourth; 
          despite its abundant virtues Honeck’s Bruckner Fourth is not the 
          complete performance I wanted it to be. In that respect it’s rather 
          like his Mahler Fifth; that also teems with good ideas, but it doesn't 
          add up to a truly coherent and compelling whole. I'm also lukewarm about 
          the recording; it's undeniably exciting at times, yet the sound is close, 
          even claustrophobic, at others. The audience is quiet and there's no 
          applause at the end.
  
          A splendid first half, let down by a disappointing second; the sonics 
          are a mixed bag, too.
          
  
Dan Morgan
			twitter.com/mahlerei
          
			Previous review: 
			Michael Cookson (Recording of the Month)