Brainwave Symphony CD 4

Hugo Alfvén (1872-1960) tends to be thought of as a ‘one-work wonder’, known only for his Swedish Rhapsody No.1, ‘Midsummer Vigil’. This disc, the fourth in Naxos’s series of Alfvén recordings, ought to change that. The Festival Overture is an exuberant curtain-raiser but the Fourth Symphony, composed in 1919, is a truly wonderful work. Its programme, hinted at in the subtitle ‘From the Outermost Skerries’, was described by the composer as ‘the tale of two young souls. The action takes place in the skerries, where sea rages among the rocks on gloomy, stormy nights, by moonlight and sunshine…the moods of nature are no less symbols for the human heart.’

It makes an ideal coupling having the Symphony No. 4 alongside the ballet score from which Prokofiev drew most of the material. The 1947 revision of the symphony, now generally preferred, is richer in both structure and instrumentation. Kuchar’s readings are both powerful and idiomatic, with crisply disciplined playing from the Ukraine Orchestra bringing home the weight and violence of much of the writing. These are performances to mach and eve outshine current rivals at whatever price; the Naxos recording is satisfying full-bodied, not least in vivid brass and percussion sounds, with the piano both clear and well integrated in the Symphony.

This disc offers something quite hard to get these days - Beethoven and Schubert played for their own sake under a conductor who can and does wield from the rostrum every bit of the immense authority of the best years of his cello-playing when even the intervals between the notes seemed to have been imaginatively recreated, and the phrasing presented with nothing less than perfect sensitivity and dignity, and without any desire to make points or impress by virtuoso polish. Of course his approach is of his time. But the Marlboro audience was very lucky, and so is anyone who now listens to this with an open mind. This is a great musician conducting folk who in the act of performance he treats as equals.

The Fourth is Sibelius's most difficult symphony. For some, it is his masterpiece. When the symphony was premiered on 3 April 1911 in Helsinki, one critic compared it to Barkbröd - tree bark eaten by the Finns in times of famine! It is fittingly a Finn, conductor Santtu-Matias Rouvali, who explores this symphony that lays bare our emotions. With his Göteborg Symphony Orchestra, he continues his cycle of the complete Sibelius symphonies, with the addition of the famous Valse Triste and the symphonic poem inspired by Swedish folklore called The Wood Nymph.

Andrew Manze's interpretations of Vaughan Williams's Symphonies have met with acclaim from audiences and critics alike. This second volume in his complete symphony cycle with the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra features Symphonies Nos.3 and 4. These two works were heavily influenced by the Great War and its aftermath. Full of repressed rage and sorrow at the futility of the war, Symphony No.3 is often seen as a war requiem. Symphony No.4 is a violent and turbulent work, reflecting the post Great War world and the political turmoil of the 1930s. Both works are illuminated by Manze's distinguished leadership.

If you take it for granted that Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli was the greatest pianist of the twentieth century and that his performances of Beethoven's "Emperor" Concerto were the greatest of the twentieth century, then you'll probably want to pick up this disc containing Michelangeli's fabled May 29, 1957, performance in Prague with Vaclav Smetacek and the Prague Symphony Orchestra. Although Smetacek is not the deepest, the greatest, or the most sympathetic accompanist Michelangeli ever had, and although the Prague players are not always quite on their best behavior, Michelangeli is as he always is in this work: absolutely definite.

The ten symphonies of Gustav Mahler (1860-1911) have sometimes been likened to a great autobiographical novel, each symphony constituting a chapter in itself while at the same time being an integral part of an unfolding narrative. Within this narrative flow, the fourth symphony (1899-1900) represents a magical pool of tranquility. Mahler drew on various sources in his symphony, one of them being Das himmlische Leben (1892). He originally intended this to be an independent song, but then had ideas of making it the finale of his giant third symphony before ultimately transferring it to his fourth. The song is a naïve vision of the joys of heaven seen through the eyes of a child; the symphony is, as a result, Mahler's most optimistic and relaxed. Here the work is presented by the Turku Philharmonic Orchestra, led by conductor Leif Segerstam.

Shostakovich's Fourth Symphony is an extraordinary work by any standards. It is cast in three movements, with each of the outer two approaching half an hour in duration, astride a shorter central scherzo. Together these occupy a playing time in excess of an hour. There is a huge orchestra, of some 140 players, so the range of timbres and colours is very wide indeed, and the climaxes are overwhelmingly powerful. But more significant than any of these issues is the nature of the music itself, since the development is flexible and remarkably open-ended, veering this way and that, through passages slow and fast, thinly scored and richly powerful. It is a roller-coaster ride for both the musicians and the audience.

Alba's album Brahms IV Segerstam concludes the series of symphonies by Johannes Brahms and Leif Segerstam. The last album of the four-part series includes Brahms' fourth symphony and the symphony number 295 composed by Segerstam in memory of conductor Ulf Söderblom. In his symphony "ulFSöDErBlom in Memoriam …" Segerstam plays with the name of the conductor, which includes the notes F, S, D, E and B. Brahms' fourth symphony was his last, and according to Segerstam, "the beginning of the symphony can be used to explain how music is born."

The Fourth Symphony was written at a particularly crucial point in Tchaikovsky’s life. 1877 was not only the year of his disastrous marriage but also the year in which he began his fifteen-year correspondence with his patroness Nadezhda von Meck. The F minor Symphony has always been a popular work with its muscular and melodic writing. Infused throughout the score is the sense of ‘fate’ which Tchaikovsky believed controlled his destiny as he described in a letter to Madame von Meck, “the fateful force which prevents the impulse to happiness from achieving its goal … which hangs above your head like the sword of Damocles.”