This is Philips’ first New Year’s day concert since 
          1993 when Riccardo Muti was at the helm of the great Wiener Philharmoniker. 
          By all accounts it seems that they have a winner on their hands – no 
          matter what I, or any other critic will dare to say about this disc. 
          Early reports suggest that since the CD has been on sale in Austria 
          (since 7th January) it has established a record selling 40,000 
          copies, topping all the charts. Given that Harnoncourt’s disc of last 
          year’s concert sold 90,000 throughout the year it is certain to set 
          a record. Austria, and Vienna, it seems have taken the diminutive Ozawa 
          to their hearts. When the disc appears in Japan expect the sales figures 
          to reach mountainous levels. 
        
 
        
When asked for an opinion, some days after the broadcast, 
          I was less than enthusiastic about Ozawa’s handling of this concert. 
          Hearing the disc I am not now so sure. It does not equal the famous 
          concerts of recent years by either Karajan or Carlos Kleiber – those 
          really are very special – but nor is it as depressing an experience 
          as one used to encounter under Maazel or Muti. The very opening track, 
          the Overture from Die Fledermaus, sets the tone: bold, dramatic 
          colours, and a swift tempo that is little short of dynamic. If Aquarellen 
          (a personal favourite of Ozawa’s) shows the Wiener Philharmoniker dripping 
          with colour like a rainbow, it is also a beautifully shaped performance, 
          with fragile phrasing and silken textures. It shows the magician in 
          Ozawa magnetically. 
        
 
        
My view of An der schönen, blauen Donau 
          remains unchanged – this performance is too heavily reliant on an alien, 
          non-Viennese rubato which impedes the work’s development – undoubtedly 
          beautiful on the surface, but lacking in charm. The really stunning 
          piece is one new to discs of these broadcasts – Hellmesberger’s Danse 
          Diabolique. This gem of a piece spirals wonderfully, like a spinning 
          top, and brings refined and dramatic playing from the orchestra. Like 
          the Plappermäulchen which precedes it, it shows that these 
          small works are nothing if not difficult to play. The virtuosity is, 
          of course, effortless, but which other orchestra makes it appear so? 
        
 
        
The Radetsky-Marsch shows that the Viennese 
          are possibly becoming a bit like Prom audiences (albeit with a more 
          middle class kind of lack of control), but Ozawa lacks the steeliness 
          of a Karajan to bring them to hand. Still, the cheers are manifestly 
          real and one senses that their enjoyment of this concert was also real. 
        
 
        
Philips have produced splendid sound, and the booklet 
          is lavishly illustrated. One suspects that 40,000 Austrians can’t be 
          entirely wrong. 
        
 
          Marc Bridle