The Schubert symphonies
are a further manifestation of an extraordinary
genius. The earlier examples, Nos. 1-6
that is, are on the scale of Mozart
rather than of Beethoven. No problem
with that of course, nor is their mastery
in doubt. But we have to remember that
these supremely fresh masterworks are
the product of a teenage composer, and
modelled on the Viennese classical style
of the previous generation. In due course,
Schubert would develop his own powerfully
unique voice in the Unfinished Symphony
(No. 8) and the Great C major
(No. 9).
The Symphony No. 1
is in some respects the most interesting
of all the early symphonies, if for
no other reason that it was composed
in 1813 when Schubert was a mere fifteen
years old. No wonder he aimed to emulate
the great traditions of his native city.
But in itself that observation has its
limitations, since we value the music
for what it gives us today rather than
for its historical interest. And it
gives us rewards in plenty in this excellent
performance.
Yehudi Menuhin built
a close and stimulating relationship
with the Sinfonia Varsovia, whose collaboration
with him was as substantial as it was
significant. They toured throughout
Europe and gave remarkable performances
of the central repertoire; as well as
the Schubert symphonies their Beethoven
was noteworthy too.
The standard of playing
is excellent and the recorded sound
is as good as the recent vintage would
lead us to expect. Everything sounds
nicely in its place, and there is atmosphere
as well as clarity. While this is not
what you would call ‘demonstration class’
it is more than acceptable, and just
right for this music.
For an artist working
in the later stages of an illustrious
career, Menuhin shows some unexpected
stylistic qualities. Above all, he adopts
remarkably lively tempi, as though he
had just been studying the music with
Roger Norrington or John Eliot Gardiner.
The allegros are genuinely quick, while
the andantes move along too. In the
Symphony No. 2 there is a well shaped
phrasing of the slow introduction, creating
the tensions out of which the Allegro
vivace makes its spirited presence felt.
In this work the Minuet movement is
remarkably terse, failing to break the
three minute barrier, but if anything
the effect is intensified as a result.
This remarkably exciting piece concludes
with another ‘quicker than usual’ movement,
at tempo Allegro vivace. Menuhin and
his players seem to relish the challenge.
The Symphony No. 3
is another lively work, though the Adagio
maestoso invites a portentous approach
that never materializes. Thereafter,
in fact, the slowest music comes in
at tempo Allegretto in the second movement.
Menuhin shapes this with great skill
and sensitivity, so that the symphony
as a whole does have the natural balances,
that ebb and flow, so essential to its
general scheme.
The so-called Tragic
Symphony, No. 4 in C minor, does
not attain the intensity its portentous
title invites. Whether this is down
to the conductor, the orchestra or the
composer is open to question. Again
the most romantically expressive music
comes at the beginning in the slow introduction,
but thereafter the expressive style
has more in common with its fellow early
symphonies than with imageries of tragedy.
While Menuhin’s performance has much
to commend it, there is more intensity
to be found from that great Schubertian
Karl Böhm (DG).
The Symphony No. 5
lies at the opposite extreme. Composed
during 1816, its character reveals much
of that freshness and charm so typical
of Schubert the song-writer, as well
as an abundant vivacity and a clear
sense of purpose. The orchestra is smaller,
thus placing even more emphasis upon
lyricism, since there are no trumpets
and drums and their dramatic insistence.
Although the music has its own distinctive
personality, it remains easy to place
it in the context of the classical style,
and in particular the inheritance of
Mozart. The lyrical key of B flat produces
a more intimate manner than the earlier
symphonies. The development of the material
is also a model of conciseness.
Menuhin keen phrasing
and alert tempi emphasise that while
the first movement is elegant and graceful,
the mood remains equivocal, fluctuating
between warmth and severity. The Andante
is beautifully song-like, whereas the
so-called minuet has a certain toughness
about it. With such vitality in the
attractive finale, this is one of the
most successful performances in this
already appealing set.
Like the Fourth Symphony,
the Sixth is also a tricky piece to
bring off. The challenge surrounds the
requirement to articulate the tricky
rhythmic contour of the first movement's
principal material at a suitable tempo,
that is at once lively and sensitively
phrased. A most successful performance
on CD comes from Günter Wand (RCA-BMG),
who manages to achieve this demanding
balancing of opposing forces, with beguiling
results. Not that Menuhin fails to achieve
similar standards, however, and he is
excellent in the remaining movements,
with some very pleasing string playing
in particular.
The temptation with
the celebrated ‘Unfinished’ Symphony
is to think that had he lived longer,
Schubert would have completed it. The
worthy attempts of various people to
provide the two remaining movements,
have encouraged this erroneous view.
The truth of the matter is that Schubert
wrote this piece in 1822, more than
five years before his tragically early
death. Since the music was not played
and was not known during his lifetime,
no-one can be sure whether or not he
intended to turn it into a conventional
four-movement piece. No matter, since
what we have is so wonderfully effective
on its own terms, and Schubert evidently
thought so too. Here the orchestra is
larger, the textures richer, the manner
more romantic, dramatic and forceful.
Menuhin and Sinfonia
Varsovia acquit themselves in fine style.
Again it is the sheer verve of the playing
that comes over most strongly. The rhythmic
drive has terrific power, though the
brooding quality of Claudio Abbado (DGG)
is missing. Nor is it intended, however.
The final symphony
(No. 7 was started but never materialized)
was composed before Schubert’s final
year of 1828. But like the larger works
of that year, such as the Mass in E
flat major and the String Quintet, it
has a broad and expressive scope that
mark it as a true product of Schubert’s
final phase. While it is dangerous to
write in such terms of a composer who
died in his early thirties, such is
the scope of Schubert’s achievement
that such words remind us of the nature
of his achievement.
Perhaps it is in the
Ninth Symphony that the greatest range
of contrasts can be observed among recorded
performances. Menuhin has a strongly
conceived view of the whole symphony,
including the delivery of a truly classical
sense of momentum and line. Thus the
first movement’s Andante opening is
boldly assertive in its vitality, a
characteristic that is confirmed by
the arrival of an Allegro that is more
unequivocal than its ‘non troppo’ marking
might suggest. The performance grows
in stature as it proceeds, and does
so because it remains true to Schubert’s
large-scale vision. There is vitality,
as ever, but also attention to detail
in matters of phrasing and dynamic.
Perhaps it is the reconciliation of
these aspects of performance that make
this Schubert collection such an attractive
bargain.
Terry Barfoot
see also review
by John Phillips
