Bruckner's Symphony No 7
Karajan's last recording: a very fine Bruckner Seventh
The Gramophone Choice
Symphony No 7 (ed Haas)
Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra / Herbert von Karajan
DG Karajan Gold 439 037-2GHS (66‘ · DDD). Buy from Amazon
The Vienna Philharmonic features on Karajan’s last recording, an idiomatic account of Bruckner’s Seventh Symphony, lighter and more classical in feel than either of his two Berlin recordings yet loftier, too. As for the original-image bit-processing you need go no further than the first fluttered violin tremolando and the cellos’ rapt entry in the third bar to realise how ravishingly ‘present’ the performance is in this reprocessing. Or go to the end of the symphony and hear how the great E major peroration is even more transparent than before, the octave drop of bass trombone and bass tuba 13 bars from home the kind of delightfully euphoric detail that in 1989 only the more assiduous score-reader would have been conscious of hearing. This remastered Seventh is definitely pure gold.
Additional Recommendations
Symphony No 7 (ed Haas)
Stuttgart Radio Symphony Orchestra / Sir Roger Norrington
Hänssler Classic CD93 243 (55’ · DDD). Recorded live 2008. Buy from Amazon
Symphony No 7 (ed Nowak)
Frankfurt Radio Symphony Orchestra / Paavo Järvi
RCA Red Seal 88697 38997-2 (67’ · DDD/DSD). Buy from Amazon
Sir Roger Norrington’s Bruckner Seventh might not be quite the work that one knows and loves, but under his informed scrutiny it bounds at speed, donning the expected vibrato-free string lines. The idea of having a first movement that is significantly faster than anyone else’s is based on the theory that because the outer movements share thematic cells they should also share tempi, allegro moderato being in essence very similar to bewegt, doch nicht zu schnell, ‘fast but lively’. The initial impression is ‘chaste and with haste’, the opening less warmly cosseted than usual, but by the time we reach the second set proper we really are in the fast lane. Suddenly music that in days of yore was filled with ardour and a certain strain of Romantic idealism becomes a garrulous outgrowth of classical symphonic argument, admittedly something that was always implied but never so clearly focused. The noble rising string chords near the start of the Adagio sound strangely disembodied; and although Norrington exhibits a sure sense of line and keeps textures illuminated from within, there’s no real warmth, repose or exultation (though the Adagio’s climax, played here without percussion, is powerful enough). The Adagio’s tempo is only marginally faster than the norm whereas the last two movements respond well to regular pacing and less eccentric characterisation, although at the very end of the symphony the brass’s reference back to the work’s opening phrase is rather mannered. Come the closing chord, and the audience remains silent – stunned, before some rather tentative applause implies ‘what the…?’ Clearly this was not what they were expecting.
Paavo Järvi’s Seventh inhabits – no, creates – quite another world, and not just because of his very different view of the music. Here we have two German radio orchestras sounding as if they hail from different continents, one couched in cold, pure air, the other, Järvi’s, enjoying a comfortably mild climate. As to the differences in interpretation, while Järvi’s first movement runs to a conservative 21'54", Norrington’s is a breakneck 15'08", a fairly dramatic contrast in comparison with the two Adagios where the variation in tempo amounts to less than three minutes (which in itself is quite significant). Not that tempo is, strictly speaking, as much of the essence as you would imagine, certainly not in this context.
Järvi offers an extremely beautiful performance, responsively played and, most crucially, sensitive to key transitions. There are many subtleties, while the finale’s angrily strutting second set will have your woofers quaking. Incidentally, in Järvi’s Adagio those hymn-like string chords are mightily sonorous and the no-holds-barred climax – with percussion this time – is extremely effective though the ritardando 'in' is perhaps a mite excessive.
By now it will be fairly obvious that Järvi’s Seventh is the more convincing; but Norrington’s sense of daring, his energy and conviction, and the way he inspires his players to focus exactly the performance he wants has a huge appeal. In a sense what we have here are two quite different symphonies, and the great virtue of Norrington’s is that no one knows it – yet.
Symphony No 7
Vienna Symphony Orchestra / Otto Klemperer
Testament mono SBT1459 (60’ · ADD). Recorded 1958. Buy from Amazon
The high-point of this marvellous, previously unpublished 1958 version of Bruckner’s Seventh Symphony is the Adagio, specifically its emotional candour, its great elasticity and the warmth of the string-playing, even when tonally a little on the thin side. Everywhere you sense the hand of someone in the know, even when unexpected things happen – for example, the crescendos-decrescendos in the Scherzo, and the marked broadening of tempo that bends the finale’s opening theme (the chorale second subject is also taken fairly slowly). Yes, there are blemishes that spit-and-polishers might object to.
Symphony No 7 (ed Haas)
Royal Scottish National Orchestra / Georg Tintner
Naxos 8 554269 (66‘ · DDD). Buy from Amazon
In the absence of recommendable budget or super-budget recordings of Bruckner’s Seventh Symphony, this will do nicely. It’s a finely schooled performance, chaste and discreet, with a notable reading of the Adagio. A notable bargain.
