This is an excellent recording of the Great C Major, but it 
                  takes a bit of getting used to. Iván Fischer's main focus 
                  is on the dance origins of the music, and he makes sure that 
                  the rhythms of those dances always come through. That makes 
                  for some wonderfully characterful playing, the music continually 
                  pulled around to give the dances life, while also being grounded 
                  by heavily accented downbeats. 
                    
                  It is an interpretation that is all about the moment, and the 
                  symphonic coherence of the work is never treated as a pressing 
                  concern. True enough, the piece is finely crafted, and remains 
                  cogent even when the conductor is not making any special efforts 
                  to link the larger sections. Even so, it is a risk that only 
                  just pays off. 
                    
                  One of the main reasons why it does work is that the players 
                  are all on Fischer's side. The performance standards here are 
                  exceptional, but more importantly, the conductor is able to 
                  communicate his unusual conception of the work to the orchestra 
                  in such a way that they are able to make it seem intuitive. 
                  All that is left is for the listener to put their preconceptions 
                  to one side; it might take a few repeat listenings before that 
                  is achieved. 
                    
                  You could argue that the reading lacks grandeur, but Fischer 
                  reminds us that the opulence of this symphony is always provisional 
                  and that it owes as much to Schubert's earlier chamber music 
                  as it does to Beethoven's Ninth. There are occasional episodes 
                  that are performed with symphonic breadth. The triplet ascending 
                  passages in the main theme of the finale, for example, open 
                  out into wide vistas, and while the dynamics in this last movement 
                  often seem micromanaged, they also articulate long and coherent 
                  build-ups or transitions. 
                    
                  The orchestra is a hybrid of modern and period instruments. 
                  Fischer opts for narrow bore trombones and hand horns, but the 
                  rest of the orchestra is thoroughly modern. This sets up fascinating 
                  tensions between new and old. The opening, for example, is played 
                  on hand horns, the players audibly straining against the unevenness 
                  of their instruments. Then the (modern) woodwind enter and everything 
                  suddenly becomes easier and more laid back. It is a great effect, 
                  which Fischer describes in these terms: "Only when the oboe 
                  takes over is the unevenness polished away, removing limitations 
                  and barriers and transporting us into a magical realm of eternity." 
                  
                    
                  If you are an advocate of period instrument performance, you 
                  may take issue with Fischer's views. For example, is a hand 
                  horn deficient for associating different sound qualities with 
                  specific pitches? Fischer goes on to compare the struggle of 
                  hand horn players against the unevenness of their instruments 
                  with the struggles of handicapped athletes. That strikes me 
                  as controversial, and as these views underpin the reading of 
                  the symphony, you might find yourself objecting to the recording 
                  on ideological grounds. 
                    
                  It is worth bearing in mind though, that Fischer always keeps 
                  things light. Everything here is dancing and optimism. He makes 
                  the dance connection explicit by including at the end Schubert's 
                  Five German Dances and Seven Trios with Coda D89. It 
                  is trivial music really, and if it appeared at the end of any 
                  other reading of the C Major Symphony it would seem wholly inappropriate. 
                  The fact that it fits well after Fischer's reading says much 
                  about the rustic charm that he finds in every phrase of the 
                  symphony. 
                    
                  The SACD sound quality is up to the usual high standards of 
                  Channel Classics. The liner is informative, although the 17 
                  (including the ads for other releases) photographs of Fischer 
                  himself on the packaging come worryingly close to hagiography. 
                  On the other hand, he has certainly put his personal stamp on 
                  this recording, so it is probably more logical to put his face 
                  on the front cover than Schubert's.   
                  
                  Gavin Dixon