Bruckner's Ninth Symphony seems to have a special place in Gunter Wand's pantheon of favoured works. He performs it frequently and has recorded it three times within the space of 14 years. In some ways, the 1979 Cologne version is the most satisfying. It is certainly the quickest of the three, the most direct. You would expect the 1988 Schleswig-Holstein performance with the North German RSO to be slower since it was recorded live in Lubeck Cathedral; though as the newest performance is slower still, it would be unwise to put the broadening solely down to Wand's need to accommodate the resonant spaces of the Lubeck acoustic. Clearly, his view of the music has also evolved.
The Lubeck recording is richly atmospheric. (A North German Radio co-production with Deutsche Harmonia Mundi, it was issued by EMI shortly before RCA took over the tie-up with DHM.) True, woodwind detail is very recessed; but as an example of a Bruckner symphony recorded in what many people think of as the composer's natural habitat it has much to commend it. Not that Wand's studio recordings lack atmosphere and depth of perspective. Working with specialist radio teams in Cologne and more recently in the Musikhalle in Hamburg he has always seen to it that he has orchestral layouts and microphone placings apt to Bruckner's specific needs. Technically, the Cologne and Hamburg recordings are both first-rate from the musical point of view.
This remake with the North German RSO suggests that Wand had doubts about the Lubeck experiment. Unfortunately, the latest performance is the least secure of the three orchestrally. There is a tiredness about some of the playing, notably in the concluding Adagio, that one doesn't expect to encounter in a Wand performance. There is some poor tuba playing, for instance, at the point in the coda where Bruckner refers back to his Seventh Symphony. There is also a very odd hiatus before the return of the opening theme at fig. E (8'53''). This may be a faulty edit, but there are other examples, too. Certainly, this is tortuous music, but the greatest performances—Giulini's, Karajan's, Wand's own earlier accounts—never allow the musical and spiritual stresses to sap the players' command.'