This is a neat format and good value. For the super-budget price 
                of 2 CDs you get these with symphony tracks from Naxos recordings 
                and a 158 page book in a slipcase taking up no more shelf space 
                than 2 standard CDs. I think you’re expected to read the book, 
                pause where the CD tracks are cued in the text and listen to them 
                as a reward. I prefer to go straight to the music performances 
                and then use the book to find out more about what I like. Luckily, 
                even without index, access in this book is easy.
                
You discover the 
                  symphony chronologically. First Sammartini’s Symphony in D, 
                  succinct, highly varied and entertaining, a good example of 
                  the early type. The opening movement struts amiably. The slow 
                  movement is both elegant and eloquent as it’s expressive within 
                  the discipline of form. The repeated melody for violins is varied 
                  by solo violin presentation with tasteful additional ornamentation 
                  in this stylish performance by the Aradia Ensemble/Kevin Mallon 
                  though in the opening movement the small scale ensemble is rather 
                  aggrandized by the glowing recording acoustic. A snappy, fast 
                  throwaway finale completes this carefully crafted piece.
                
Stamitz’s Symphony 
                  in E flat is more modern in attitude. This piece seems to be 
                  worked out before your ears and Stamitz wants to engage you 
                  in this experience. So the music develops from shorter melodic 
                  cells more gradually and there’s excitement as well as charm, 
                  for example with the Mannheim crescendo in the opening 
                  movement (tr. 4 0:14) and drama in the slow movement, now disciplined, 
                  now more melting. The Northern Chamber Orchestra/Nicholas Ward 
                  fully honour the demands of this music, though perhaps their 
                  approach is a little over solemn in density of tone. In Haydn’s 
                  Symphony 22, The Philosopher, Ward gives us a jovial 
                  Minuet of fair bounce if a smidgen heavy in tone and a sunny 
                  Trio which favours the horns overmuch at the expense of the 
                  cors anglais. In the finale it’s the shimmeringly sprightly 
                  strings which those instruments have to and do match in echo. 
                  Haydn blends Sammartini’s elegance and Stamitz’s intellectual 
                  rigour.
                
The rest of CD1 
                  is standard symphonic repertoire. Capella Istropolitana/Barry 
                  Wordsworth bring the finale of Mozart’s Haffner symphony 
                  played with litheness and panache. But their closer miked recording 
                  of the slow movement of Mozart’s Jupiter symphony is 
                  heavier in tone which for me gives it too much romantic warmth 
                  and blunts dynamic contrast. Yet the gauzy effect of the muted 
                  violins and the angst in the firmly articulated accents, for 
                  instance in the second theme (tr. 9 1:25) come across.
                
Three opening movements 
                  close CD1. In Haydn’s London symphony Wordsworth and 
                  Capella Istropolitana display a grandly rhetorical introduction 
                  with breadth and power but also soft melting elements, especially 
                  in the first violins before a relaxed Allegro that soon 
                  becomes vivacious. Wordsworth’s fine momentum gives it joie 
                  de vivre while he’s still scrupulous about vertical clarity. 
                  In Beethoven’s Symphony 7 introduction the Nicolaus Esterhazy 
                  Sinfonia/Bela Drahos display imposing, if rather ponderously 
                  massive, tutti chords offset by beguiling woodwind solos 
                  and there’s a sense of heroic effort in the rising scales spread 
                  across all the strings. The Vivace’s first theme on flute 
                  (tr. 11 3:42) is cheery, the crucial horns shine bright and 
                  clear in the following tutti and the second theme (4:49) 
                  has a courageous glint. The strength of the performance comes 
                  from its clear dynamic contrasts.
                
The Slovak Philharmonic 
                  Orchestra/Michael Halasz give Schubert’s Unfinished symphony 
                  a measured, solemn opening but agitated subsidiary theme on 
                  oboe and clarinet (tr. 12 0:24) with rustling strings beneath. 
                  The famous second theme is warmly presented on cellos (1:19) 
                  but also has a restless accompaniment and soon fragments into 
                  stormy outbursts. Halasz’s approach is deliberate, arguably 
                  overmuch so, but Schubert’s construction is so taut the effect 
                  is more powerful than stilted. In this CD’s context you hear 
                  Stamitz’s legacy used to more searingly dramatic effect.
                
CD2 has a growingly 
                  nationalist feel. First up is the most overtly programmatic 
                  symphony, Berlioz’s Symphonie fantastique. Its second 
                  movement Ball should sweep you off your feet but the San Diego 
                  Symphony Orchestra/Yoav Talmi, while clear in texture, offer 
                  for me a too delicate waltz with a touch self-conscious momentary 
                  slowing of tempo (tr. 1 0:50). The fourth movement March to 
                  the Scaffold is somewhat deliberate too but Talmi does convey 
                  its hovering between the grand formality of ritual and the garish 
                  grotesqueness of nightmare.
                
The question with 
                  the slow movement of Brahms’ Symphony 2 (tr. 3) is how slow 
                  and melancholy is it. Brahms marking is ‘Slow but not too much’ 
                  and I feel in the London Philharmonic Orchestra/Marin Alsop 
                  account here the second element of the marking is underplayed. 
                  So while the cellos’ opening theme has a spaciously sombre dignity 
                  there’s also a rather withdrawn inwardness which develops into 
                  a tiptoeing hesitancy. The sunnier second phase (2:59) has a 
                  more winsome delicacy and fragility while the third phase (4:03) 
                  is warm and homely, then turbulent before the gentle insistence, 
                  beautifully realized, of the sober wistfulness of the calm mix 
                  of first and third phase material.
                
The first movement 
                  of Borodin’s Symphony 2 is ever dramatic though without a programme, 
                  its rugged power in brass and lower strings vividly revealed 
                  by the Slovak Radio Symphony Orchestra/Stephen Gunzenhauser. 
                  The brief opening fanfare like motif is much repeated and varied. 
                  The second theme (tr. 4 1:40) begins more relaxed and folksy 
                  but at 4:02 in the wind, is presented urgently like the first 
                  motif. But that is more smoothly presented at 3:16 and 5:44, 
                  so you begin to feel it as the same character in different moods. 
                  In the latter case the first theme in the upper woodwind is 
                  flowingly though also animatedly layered over a second theme 
                  now uneasy in the lower strings. Technically clever but musically 
                  stimulating.
                
We get just part 
                  of a symphony movement, bars 178 to 246, or 6:51 of 25:48, of 
                  the opening movement of Mahler Symphony 10, itself only left 
                  in draft at Mahler’s death. But it’s well chosen at the return 
                  of the opening Adagio material in richly writhing texture 
                  of first and second violins with low brass backing followed 
                  by the contrast of the more isolated, probing string line of 
                  material which actually starts the work. At this point comes 
                  the movement’s crisis, a massive panoply of full orchestra, 
                  crashing chords and shrieking trumpet, a layering of raw sound 
                  rather than melody but that returns in a violins’ procession, 
                  consolation even in straitened circumstances which attains calm. 
                  Huth’s commentary characterizes this as the end of romanticism 
                  but it’s equally the beginning of 20th century stark 
                  juxtapositions. With the Polish National Radio Symphony Orchestra/Antoni 
                  Wit life’s beauties and horrors are lived to the full, intently 
                  displayed with unflinching gaze.
                
Whereas Mahler lives 
                  spontaneously in the moment, with Sibelius themes germinate 
                  and sweep irresistibly forward, even though unconventionally 
                  in his Third Symphony (tr. 6) where in place of a recapitulation 
                  a new theme sneaks in on the violas at 4:03 at the end of the 
                  development and flowers when the cellos join them at 4:22. The 
                  remainder of this finale is of mounting fulfilment and conviction, 
                  resolutely delivered in dark burnished colours by the Iceland 
                  Symphony Orchestra/Petri Sakari.
                
The rondo from Elgar 
                  Symphony 2 (tr. 7) is both jocular and disturbed from the outset 
                  and its second theme (0:49) at once bouncy and morbid. The pastoral 
                  woodwind headed centre (2:45) offers a carefree interlude with 
                  the violins dreamy response but the drumbeats, as of a man in 
                  high fever Elgar once suggested, begin in earnest from 4:44. 
                  The BBC Philharmonic/Edward Downes present this all with a sure 
                  sense of idiom so the mastery of  Elgar’s orchestration is fully 
                  revealed.
                
The scherzo from 
                  Shostakovich Symphony 10 with its abrasive strings, screeching 
                  woodwind and mighty brass is technically impressive from the 
                  Slovak Radio Symphony Orchestra/Ladislav Slovak. It has great 
                  clarity of texture and agitation, with the lacerating chords 
                  in the central section memorable, but in comparison with the 
                  Philadelphia Orchestra/Mariss Jansons (EMI 3653002) it lacks 
                  manic edge, at once a fascination with and fear of instability. 
                  Their maelstrom is more brutal.
                
There could be no 
                  greater contrast than the calm, free flowing, quiet and patient 
                  unfolding of the opening of Copland’s Symphony 3 (tr. 9). It 
                  has benign, intrinsic warmth, opening out to a positive affirmation, 
                  not about melody so much as units of growth and the conveying 
                  of mood. Woodwind solos in particular are heard as individual 
                  contributions to a unified whole community of witness which 
                  culminates in an exultant climax, followed by a return to the 
                  opening theme presented with expansive sureness. Here indeed 
                  are wide open spaces. The New Zealand Symphony Orchestra/James 
                  Judd give a finely detailed account of this heartening music.
                
The spell is broken 
                  by the finale of Lutoslawski’s Symphony 1 in a wonderfully bracing 
                  performance from the Polish National Radio Symphony Orchestra/Antoni 
                  Wit. This is a Haydn finale in 20th century dress, 
                  toying with melody which never quite arrives, glorying in its 
                  clownish raucousness yet with an almost continually contrasting 
                  lightness. I sought out the rest of the work: it’s fascinatingly 
                  variegated.
                
And then it’s back 
                  to Haydn, the close of his Farewell symphony (tr. 11). 
                  To point out to Prince Esterhazy that his musicians were overdue 
                  a holiday the Presto finale breaks off into an Adagio 
                  in which the orchestra is gradually depleted to 2 violins. The 
                  Presto seems more tetchy edited 2:15 in, already with 
                  a head of steam, making a greater contrast with the Adagio 
                  (0:49) looking forward to happier days in an alert, pleasingly 
                  rounded glowing performance by Capella Istropolitana/Barry Wordsworth.
                
Andrew Huth’s very 
                  accessible 95 page essay provides an excellent digest of the 
                  development of the symphony, charting what makes its key composers 
                  distinctive and why others are less so. A template emerges of 
                  the musical characteristics of an effective symphony irrespective 
                  of period but there’s also attention to the cultural, social 
                  and political conditions which affect its success and thereby 
                  influence. The strengths and weaknesses of the 20th 
                  century English symphony are tersely revealed, though I feel 
                  Bliss’s A Colour Symphony is worth a mention. Huth also 
                  accounts for embarrassment at not including any female composers. 
                  Well, British Alice Mary Smith’s Victorian symphonies (Chandos 
                  CHAN 10283) are little known yet their Mendelssohnian grasp 
                  of the dramatic impulse within a strong formal framework is 
                  attractive. As the most prolific female symphonist ever, the 
                  present day American Gloria Coates might surely have been mentioned 
                  (eg. Naxos 8.559289).
                
              
In the CD examples 
                more discipline, having just one movement per composer apart from 
                the short complete Sammartini symphony, would have allowed space 
                for at least 3 more composers. I’d opt for Schumann, Dvorak and 
                Tchaikovsky. A 41 page timeline from 1730 to 2007 parallels the 
                development of the symphony with history, science and technology, 
                art and architecture and literature. This is thought provoking 
                but for later than the discovery stage. I’d like to have seen 
                assistance to the explorer where to go next, for instance if you 
                like the Lutoslawski. There are no suggestions for further listening 
                nor reading. A section charting the growth of the orchestra could 
                have been better matched with examples of works actually featured 
                on the CDs. But there is a helpful 6 page glossary. This, then, 
                is a recommendable overview but a little fine tuning would have 
                further enhanced its educational value.
                
                Michael Greenhalgh