It’s good to see Ferenc Fricsay’s star in the ascendant once again. Like EMI Classics/IMG Artists’ Gramophone Award-winning Great Conductors of the Century anthology (7/02), this lavish box from DG can only enhance his posthumous reputation. Completists will be glad to have the eloquent interview (interspersed with musical excerpts) that Fricsay taped only months before his death from cancer in February 1963 aged just 48 (non-German speakers will find an excellent synopsis in the booklet), but to my mind the most revelatory document here comprises an extraordinarily compassionate and courageous account of Tchaikovsky’s Pathétique that Fricsay set down in stereo during September 1959 with his trusty Berlin RSO.

Never officially sanctioned for release (plans to patch up sundry minor shortcomings fell through), it adds, as Rob Cowan observes in his exemplary annotation, over eight minutes to Fricsay’s famous 1953 mono predecessor with the BPO, yet its jaw-dropping flexibility, devastating emotional candour and tragic intensity hold the listener totally spellbound. In Fricsay’s hands the scherzo acquires a giant swagger, while tears really do spill from the finale’s ineffably moving second subject. And all achieved, I should add, without a trace of self-pity or hysteria. Previously only available on a Japanese import, this Pathétique demands to be heard.

Another high spot comprises the thrilling 1955 recording of Hartmann’s Sixth Symphony, in which the giddy polyphony of the Toccata variata finale acquires an unstoppable momentum. The Hartmann shares a disc with three other 20th-century offerings. Despite cuts in both outer movements, Hindemith’s exhilarating Symphonic Dances effortlessly spring to life. The same holds true for Frank Martin’s glorious Petite Symphonie Concertante, while the inclusion of the perky march from Gottfried von Einem’s Dantons Tod serves as a reminder that it was Fricsay’s world première of this opera at the 1947 Salzburg Festival (deputising for an indisposed Klemperer) that gave him his first big break.

There were few more attentive concerto partners than Fricsay (I’ve always treasured his 1960 Brahms B flat with Géza Anda and the BPO – 6/61, now on Belart). Of the five concertante pieces on disc five featuring Swiss pianist Margrit Weber, Falla’s fragrant Nights in the Gardens of Spain certainly enjoys involving, atmospheric advocacy, and we also get deft readings of Franck’s Symphonic Variations as well as the Concertinos by Françaix (an irresistible confection) and Honegger. A subtly voiced Rachmaninov’s Paganini Rhapsody brings up the rear, distinctive in its dark-hued intimacy and refreshingly devoid of flashy thrills and spills. A similar collaborative sensitivity illuminates a 1958 account of Mahler’s five Rückert-Lieder with contralto Maureen Forrester, though even more memorable is a live recording from November 1961 of Haydn’s Die Jahreszeiten (‘The Seasons’). Sadly, this proved to be one of Fricsay’s last concerts with his ever-responsive Berlin Radio band, and the whole performance radiates a recreative fervour and ebullient joy that are the hallmarks of what was clearly a remarkable event. Both soloists (Maria Stader, Ernst Haefliger and Josef Greindl) and choir (St Hedwig’s Cathedral, Berlin) are audibly inspired by Fricsay’s humane leadership.

The music of the Strauss family was another Fricsay speciality. Of the dozen items recorded between 1949 and 1952 gathered together on disc four, I’d single out an exquisite Wiener Blut (listen out for some beamingly affectionate portamento from the BPO strings), a twinkling Annen-Polka and a wonderfully pliant Morgenblätter as especially cherishable examples of Fricsay’s idiomatic way with this repertoire. Elsewhere, a spry, challengingly swift Beethoven First Symphony and electric Prokofiev Classical (with the BPO and Berlin RSO respectively) frame the overture and eight incidental numbers from Mendelssohn’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I’d have preferred a lighter touch from the BPO in both the ‘Wedding March’ and ‘Dance of the Clowns’, but there’s a fine horn solo in the ‘Nocturne’, as well as lovely contributions from soprano Rita Streich, contralto Diana Eustrati and the RIAS Chamber Choir. Last, but not least, a deliciously pointed 32-minute suite from the Rossini-Respighi ballet La Boutique fantasque comes harnessed to Fricsay’s thoughtful, shrewdly plotted Scheherazade, where the cumulative thrust behind Rimsky’s colourful inspiration can seldom have been more majestically conveyed.

So, a feast of characterful and intelligent music-making. I can report that the admirably balanced original tapes have been expertly refurbished, and here is surely one of most valuable compilations within DG’s Original Masters series thus far.