Several British passengers have jumped on the Gunter Wand bandwagon since it started its British journey some years ago. Now 73, he was conductor of the celebrated Cologne Gurzenich Orchestra from 1946 to 1974. But because this was not an internationally-famous post, his name was almost unknown outside Germany, thus he was not on the regular guest-conducting rota and only a few connoisseurs knew of his gifts. The LSO and then the BBC ended this obscurity for London audiences and the attendant revelations led to some pardonable hyperbole. Wand's recording of Schubert's Great C major Symphony (Deutsche Harmonia Mundi/Conifer 1C 065 99736, 11/78) would certainly have tempted anyone into superlatives; his Brahms symphonies (of which No. 2 was reviewed in April—Deutsche Harmonia Mundi/Conifer 1C 067 169519-1) perhaps encouraged hesitancy. But why climb on a bandwagon? Why not merely salute deep and abiding musicianship of a kind with which listeners this century have been blessed often by illustrious conductors who have not worn a Toscanini/Furtwangler/ Karajan halo? Wand belongs in the company of Jochum, Knappertsbusch, Bohm, Schmidt-Issertstedt, Krips and others whose names readers will easily supply.
These Bruckner performances, recorded between 1974 and 1981, vary in quality both as interpretations and recordings. The best of them rank among the very best I have heard. Each is available separately and RO reviewed the Fourth, Fifth and Sixth in 1979 and the First in 1982—I would not demur at most of his comments. Chief merit of Wand's Bruckner is its strength of purpose: he knows where each symphony is going and he moves it on its way unhurriedly and monumentally, as in the grand tradition, but with a controlled momentum that generates intensity, incisiveness and power. He is less given to mystical brooding than Karajan, less filled with the light of common day than Haitink. But the sheer structural grandeur of the music, its marvellous contrasts of epic struggle with interludes of Dvorakian rustic simplicity, these come across in the best of Wand's readings with a refreshed illuminatory oratory that does not exclude visionary insights. The musical small print is not always read with such care as by Karajan, but the total effect refutes any charge of myopia—the view is wide, noble, enthralling. The performances of the Seventh, Eighth and Ninth are immensely exciting as well as moving, hewn out of rock. It is no surprise in the Adagio of the Seventh Symphony to find Wand spurning the controversial cymbal-clash at the final climax; and when that passage is played as it is here, with brass and strings so elemental, the addition of this percussive italicizing seems both spurious and superfluous. If someone was needed to advocate Bruckner's skill as composer and orchestrator, Wand is the man.
On the question of versions used, beware of Karl Schumann's statement in his sleeve-notes that ''the present recordings are all based on the original versions of the symphonies''. That is slightly simpplistic. For the First Symphony Wand, unlike Karajan, uses the 1891 Vienna version in preference to the Linz 1865-6 original. This is certainly not the 'original' Fourth but the usually performed 1880 version. For the Eighth the Haas edition is rightly preferred to Nowak. Most Brucknerians today would probably prefer the Linz version of the First, which makes its points in a much more direct fashion. If Wand really prefers the Vienna revision, as presumably he does, he makes an ardent case for it, with striking if questionable extremes of tempo. (A pity he did not record the more Brucknerian 'No. 0', though.) It is a most enjoyable symphony—why don't we hear it in our concert halls?—and the Cologne orchestra play it con amore. The Second Symphony also receives an ingratiating performance, notably the Scherzo. I would be tempted to say that the performances of all the scherzos except one are as good as any I know, catching their varying moods to perfection.
If the performance of the Third Symphony errs on the side of stodginess, the Fourth is lovely throughout, horns blooming, strings rich and supple, woodwind mellow and grazioso—truly a 'Romantic' symphony. Richard Osborne found the playing of No. 5 the noisiest he knew, and I'm not surprised. It is fashionable to rate this as the greatest of the nine, mainly because of its astonishing finale, but no one has yet persuaded me to elevate it above the Seventh, Eighth and Ninth. Wand is perhaps too down-to-earth here, accelerating tempos as if he lacked confidence in the music's ability to withstand a sustained broad approach. Karajan (DG 2707 101, 10/78) proves him wrong. The Sixth, the 'Cinderella' of the late symphonies, receives patchy playing and recording. So marked is the difference between one movement and another that one could assume, probably erroneously, that several weeks elapsed between sessions. Or perhaps the Cologne weather suddenly changed for the better and everyone cheered up in the end! The Scherzo is scrappily played by the strings, who are unrecognizable as the same section which plays with such finesse in the finale. Again, Wand's tempos fluctuate unconvincingly in the first movement.
In the Eighth and Ninth Symphonies Wand and his orchestra match their achievement to Bruckner's. All these recordings were made in a slightly resonant acoustic which adds its own spaciousness to that of the interpretations, and in these crowning masterpieces the total effect, captured faithfully by the engineers, is elevating. Is there a more tragic and harrowing first movement in late-nineteenth-century symphonic music than that of the Ninth Symphony? The horns and trumpets stalk like spectres through its introduction in Wand's tense reading. And the Adagio's uneasy, burdened progress towards a hard-won unstable serenity seems all the more measured after the rapid enumeration of the terrors of the Scherzo. This is a performance to which I believe many other listeners will feel powerfully drawn. But one would have to be very powerfully drawn to Wand's Bruckner as a whole to lay out the cost of this box when the complete sets by Karajan or Haitink or Jochum are all cheaper, more consistent and, in the main, better played.'