When I reviewed one of the performances from which this CD
emanates I suggested that Sir Colin Davis had little to say about Bruckner’s
last symphony. Hearing the disc has little changed that view.
There are, however, some notable differences between
the disc and the concert performance and these add marginally to this
disc’s attraction, especially at its bargain price. For example, Tony
Faulkner and his team of engineers have successfully tamed the heavy
brass balance one experienced in the Barbican Hall; this performance
now sounds much less like Eugen Jochum’s technically and aurally corrupt
Dresden recording than I originally believed. The intense lyricism of
the first movement is also much more heartfelt than I remember from
the concert performance and woodwind are almost ideally placed in a
symphony notable for almost cloaking them under a brooding darkness
of brass chorales.
So where does Davis go wrong? Certainly not with his
orchestra, who play this music incredibly beautifully. The string sound
is sumptuous (and I can’t wait to hear how the engineers have reproduced
the adagio of the Sixth Symphony [due for release in Spring 2003] which
was literally spellbinding in its beauty). The problem with this performance
is Davis’s handling of the opening Maestoso – which at the printed running
time of 28’33 (28’38 according to my computer) is simply too slow. Very
few conductors take the first movement at longer than 28 minutes, but
of those that do (Giulini and Celibidache, especially) there is a sense
of organic development from the opening tremolando strings to the fearsome
brass coda at the movement’s close which is compelling. Celibidache
defies the logic of this movement’s sudden, and uncomfortable, changes
of direction to direct a performance of awesome continuity. With Davis
one feels that Bruckner’s orchestration is taken somewhat literally
with its continuity compromised.
The menace of the second movement’s grinding dissonances
suits Davis’s tempo ideally. Although slower than both Abbado and Sinopoli,
who direct near benchmark performances of this symphony, the malevolence
of the LSO’s basses and brass is never questionable in a performance
of chilling certainty. And where many performances treat this music
as a precursor to the sinister scherzos of Shostakovich and Bartók
Davis is almost restrained in taking the music that far forward; his
Trio, marginally more lyrical than we are used to, relates the scherzo
directly to the volatile dissonances of the final movement and is probably
the best thing in this recording.
The Adagio, the most pain-ridden music Bruckner wrote,
succeeds or fails on how well a conductor resolves the transcendental
climax near the close of the work. It is music of indescribable power
and Davis is almost worthy of its scale. There is no lack of nobility
(although as an Elgarian of some stature it is a less nurtured European
nobility) and the LSO produce a glorious tone but as live performances
go it is rather on the prosaic side. Take either Rattle, in concert
performances with the Berlin Philharmonic, or Boulez with the Vienna
Philharmonic (scheduled for a release on DG, but currently accessible
through www.andante.com) and this
music holds altogether more terrifying powers. What Davis’s performance
lacks is an elementalism that both Rattle and Boulez view as part of
an overall trajectory of this symphony’s mysticism.
Stephen Johnson’s programme notes are worthy and the
LSO’s timings are marginally different from what I calculate them to
be. What is inexcusable, even for a budget label, is a lack of proofreading:
Bruckner’s dates are given as 1906-75, which are, of course, Shostakovich’s.
Marc Bridle
London Symphony Orchestra/Sir
Colin Davis 
