Also, Tapiola. Herbert von Karajan, Berlin Philharmonic; Sir Simon Rattle, City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra; Paavo Berglund, Helsinki Philharmonic Orchestra. EMI 50999 9 07246 2 (two-disc set).
Complain, complain, complain. My favorite Sibelius symphonies are the first two, so it's just my luck that EMI would issue numbers four through seven in this excellent, 2011 reissue collection culled from some of the best of their back catalogue. No, of course, I shouldn't complain. They have chosen well, and the selections we find here are among the best you can buy from any company at any price. The fact that EMI are selling this set at mid price makes it a bargain for the music lover who doesn't already have the recordings. Let's go through them one at a time.
Finnish composer Jean Sibelius (1865-1957) wrote his Symphony No. 4 in 1911, and it bears repeating that the music has always reminded me of a vast, flat, icy plain, maybe in Lapland, brooding in silence. Recorded in 1976 by Herbert von Karajan and the Berlin Philharmonic, the conductor makes it more measured and more melancholy than ever, the desolation of the landscape all the more complete; and the thing just gets slower as it goes along. Sibelius felt he was near death when he wrote the piece; however, he would last another forty-six years, so I suppose you could say it was a false alarm. Later, Sibelius said of the symphony, quoting the Swedish author Strindberg, "Being human is misery." Don't expect much joy here. Nevertheless, Karajan keeps one involved, even with his extraordinarily broad tempos, making the work seem more lofty and more emotional than some competing versions, including his own earlier DG recording. I would place this performance among those of Ashkenazy (Decca), Barbirolli (EMI), Berglund (EMI), and Vanska (BIS) at the head of the list for the work.
Sibelius wrote his Fifth Symphony at the beginning of the First World War, with its premiere in 1915. However, the version we usually get is the revised one from 1919, performed in this collection by Sir Simon Rattle and the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, recorded in 1988. The revised version melds the first two movements into one, making a three-movement construction. Under Rattle, we get perhaps the single best performance in the set. He would record the symphony again, each time with equal success. With its grand gestures, it sounds more like typical Sibelius than the Fourth, and Rattle whips up a good head of steam by the final, somewhat melodramatic conclusion.
Sibelius's symphonies got more concise as they went along, with Nos. 6 and 7 his shortest of all. Symphony No. 6 comes from 1923, and we're back to Karajan and the Berlin Philharmonic in a 1980 recording. The Sixth is often Sibelius's most overlooked symphony, yet it's quite lyrical and serene. Karajan was always good at developing big, expansive themes, so he is at home here. It is only in the third-movement Scherzo that the piece picks up any serious animation, which the composer carries over into the first half of the Allegro finale, the tension soon fading into a peaceful ending. Karajan does OK with it, although I tend to like his earlier DG reading better for its greater poetry, if not for its sound. I personally count the versions by Davis (RCA), Berglund (EMI), Barbirolli (EMI), and Vanska (BIS) above this rendition, but there's certainly nothing wrong with Karajan's handling of it.
Sibelius's last symphony, No. 7 (1924), is his shortest by far, his combining four movements into one flowing work. Paavo Berglund and the Helsinki Philharmonic handle it well in a 1984 performance that is strong, direct, yet moving, even majestic. Frankly, however, most other recordings of the Seventh tend to pale in comparison to Beecham's (EM), but Berglund's is a good alternative, so it's nice to have it here.
The set ends with Sibelius's lengthy tone poem Tapiola from 1925, again handled by Karajan and the BPO in another 1976 recording. The composer sets the story of Tapio, Finnish god of the forest, in the icy north, making it seem much akin to his Fourth Symphony. Tapiola is a colorful tale that Karajan negotiates handily, in his usual sweepingly grandiose manner.
In terms of sound, the best recording is Rattle's CBSO account of Symphony No. 5: smooth, rich, warm, and natural, with good stage depth and fine dynamics. The Karajan Berlin recordings tend to sound more multi-miked, with greater midrange clarity, greater impact, and a brighter, more forward sound at the expense of less orchestral depth. The Berglund Helsinki recording tends to fall somewhere between the two extremes, well balanced and commendably transparent.
John J. Puccio, Editor, Publisher, Reviewer
Understand, I'm just an everyday guy reacting to something I love. And I've been doing it for a very long time, my appreciation for classical music starting with the musical excerpts on The Big John and Sparkie radio show in the early Fifties and the purchase of my first recording, The 101 Strings Play the Classics, around 1956. In the late Sixties I began teaching high school English and Film Studies as well as becoming interested in hi-fi, my audio ambitions graduating me from a pair of AR-3 speakers to the Fulton J's recommended by The Stereophile's J. Gordon Holt. In the early Seventies, I began writing for a number of audio magazines, including Audio Excellence, Audio Forum, The Boston Audio Society Speaker, The American Record Guide, and from 1976 until 2008, The $ensible Sound, for which I served as Classical Music Editor.
Today, I'm retired from teaching and use a pair of bi-amped VMPS RM40s loudspeakers for my listening. In addition to writing the Classical Candor blog, I served as the Movie Review Editor for the Web site Movie Metropolis (formerly DVDTown) from 1997-2013. Music and movies. Life couldn't be better.
Karl W. Nehring, Contributing Reviewer
For more than 20 years I was the editor ofThe $ensible Soundmagazine and a regular contributor to its classical review pages. I would not presume to present myself as some sort of expert on music, but I have a deep love for and appreciation of many types of music, "classical" especially, and have listened to thousands of recordings over the years, many of which still line the walls of my listening room (and occasionally spill onto the furniture and floor, much to the chagrin of my long-suffering wife). I have always taken the approach as a reviewer that what I am trying to do is simply to point out to readers that I have come across a recording that I have found of interest, a recording that I think they might appreciate my having pointed out to them. I suppose that sounds a bit simple-minded, but I know I appreciate reading reviews by others that do the same for me -- point out recordings that I think I might enjoy.
For readers who might be wondering about what kind of system I am using to do my listening, I should probably point out that I do a LOT of music listening and employ a variety of means to do so in a variety of environments, as I would imagine many music lovers also do. Starting at the more grandiose end of the scale, the system in which I do my most serious listening comprises an Onkyo C-7030 CD player, Legacy Audio StreamLine preamplifier, Legacy Audio PowerBloc2 amplifier, and a pair of Legacy Audio Focus SE speakers augmented by a Legacy Point One subwoofer. I also do a lot of listening while driving in my 2016 Acura RDX with its nice-sounding ELS Studio sound system through which I play CDs (the ones I especially like I rip to the Acura's hard drive so that I can listen to them whenever I want) or stream music through the system using my LG G7 ThinQ cell phone, which features surprisingly sophisticated audio circuitry. For more casual listening at home when I am not in my listening room, I often stream music through the phone into a Vizio soundbar system that has remarkably nice sound for such a diminutive physical presence. And finally, at the least grandiose end of the scale, I have an Ultimate Ears Wonderboom Bluetooth speaker for those occasions where I am somewhere by myself without a sound system but in desperate need of a musical fix. I just can't imagine life without music and I am humbly grateful for the technology that enables us to enjoy it in so many wonderful ways.
Bryan Geyer, Technical Analyst
I initially embraced classical music in 1954 when I mistuned my car radio and heard the Heifetz recording of Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto. That inspired me to board the new "hi-fi" DIY bandwagon. In 1957 I joined one of the pioneer semiconductor makers and spent the next 32 years marketing transistors and microcircuits to military contractors. Home audio DIY projects remained a personal passion until 1989 when we created our own new photography equipment company. I later (2012) revived my interest in two channel audio when we "downsized" our life and determined that mini-monitors + paired subwoofers were a great way to mate fine music with the space constraints of condo living.
Visitors that view my technical papers on this site may wonder why they appear here, rather than on a site that features audio equipment reviews. My reason is that I tried the latter, and prefer to publish for people who actually want to listen to music; not to equipment. My focus is in describing what's technically beneficial to assure that the sound of the system will accurately replicate the source input signal (i. e. exhibit high accuracy) without inordinate cost and complexity. Conversely, most of the audiophiles of today strive to achieve sound that's euphonic, i.e. be personally satisfying. In essence, audiophiles seek sound that's consistent with their desire; the music is simply a test signal.
It is the goal of Classical Candor to promote the enjoyment of classical music. Other forms of music come and go--minuets, waltzes, ragtime, blues, jazz, bebop, country-western, rock-'n'-roll, heavy metal, rap, and the rest--but classical music has been around for hundreds of years and will continue to be around for hundreds more. It's no accident that every major city in the world has one or more symphony orchestras.
When I was young, I heard it said that only intellectuals could appreciate classical music, that it required dedicated concentration to appreciate. Nonsense. I'm no intellectual, and I've always loved classical music. Anyone who's ever seen and enjoyed Disney's Fantasia or a Looney Tunes cartoon playing Rossini's William Tell Overture or Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 can attest to the power and joy of classical music, and that's just about everybody.
So, if Classical Candor can expand one's awareness of classical music and bring more joy to one's life, more power to it. It's done its job. --John J. Puccio
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