George Szell, The Cleveland Orchestra Mozart* – Symphonies Nos. 39 & 40 Exsultate, Jubilate

George Szell owned the First Piano Concerto. He played the opening movement like no one else, and he recorded the work with three outstanding pianists: Sir Clifford Curzon, Rudolf Serkin, and this performance with Anton Fleischer. When I say this is the best of the three, I'm making a tough choice, but Fleischer brings a youthful vigor and rage to the music that complements Szell's fiery accompaniment so well that they sound like they're both performing from the same musical brain.

Schubert's two greatest orchestral works on one CD at budget price–if the performances were indifferent this would be no bargain at all, but they are superb. In fact, these versions may have been equaled, but they have never been surpassed. George Szell understood intuitively how to balance Romantic passion with intellectual discipline. In difficult pieces like the Schubert Ninth, he rose to the challenge like an Olympic athlete after a new world record. The recordings he made in his prime with his own Cleveland Orchestra comprise one of the most satisfying legacies in the history of classical music on disc. Within even this impressive legacy, these performances stand high.

One of the great Hungarian conductors, Szell quickly transformed a middling Midwestern orchestra into one of the nation's Big Five.

Very late in his career Sándor Végh came together with the world class orchestra renowned for its supremely Viennese interpretations of Mozart: the Vienna Philharmonic. It was not until 1991 that Végh and the orchestra worked together briefly, in the Konzerthaus in Vienna, and this led to a memorable concert during the Mozart Week, on 30 January 1992 in the Grosses Festspielhaus in Salzburg. Two of the “late” Mozart symphonies were played, the Symphony in G minor, K. 550 and the Symphony in E flat major, K. 543. The recording of this legendary interpretation can be heard on the third CD in the edition.

Mozart composed his last three symphonies (Nos. 39-41) in the space of six weeks during the summer of 1788, at a time when he had sunk into poverty, regularly borrowing money from his friend Michael Puchberg and pawning household items. In recent years he had been organising many concerts in Vienna and was equally in demand as a teacher. Then, in Prague, he had enjoyed the tremendous acclaim of his Marriage of Figaro (1786) and Don Giovanni (1787). Now, however, he struggled to find subscribers for the publication of three string quintets and faced what seemed to be the end of his Viennese concerts.