Tchaikovsky Symphony 7

Roughly half of this set is strongly recommendable—and even the half that isn't is still well worth hearing. Ferenc Fricsay was a pivotal figure in the rebuilding of German musical life after the war, primarily as conductor of the Berlin RIAS (Radio In the American Sector) Symphony Orchestra, which was founded in 1946, re-named the Berlin Radio Symphony Orchestra in 1956 and which is now known as the Deutsches Symphony Orchestra, Berlin. Fricsay's first international triumph was in 1947 when he took over from an indisposed Otto Klemperer for the world premiere of Gottfried von Einem's opera Dantons Tod.

Sergey Ivanovich Taneyev (1856-1915) is an exceptional figure in 19th-century Russian music. He had nothing in common with the Russian National School. Taneyev's abstract approach to composing was in stark contrast to the outbursts of emotion that we encounter in many of his contemporaries. People tend to call him the Russian Brahms, were it not for Taneyev's disapproval of his music. Taneyev was a composition student of Tchaikovsky and, as a pianist, provided the premieres of Tchaikovsky's works for piano and orchestra. A close friendship developed between the two, which would last until Tchaikovsky's death, despite the sincerity with which Taneyev was one of the few in the Tchaikovsky area to dare to criticize his work.

Paavo Järvi’s remarkably fresh-sounding Tchaikovsky Pathétique emphasizes the music’s lyricism and singing line, with flowing tempos and unforced, natural phrasing throughout. Accordingly the strings predominate in this performance, and the Cincinnati players make beautiful sounds, especially in the outer movements. Järvi treats the first movement’s “big tune” as a love song that grows more impassioned with each appearance. On the other hand he leads a quite angry development section, with biting brass ratcheting up the tension. The second movement goes at a lively, dancing pace, while Järvi’s quick-stepping third-movement march generates real excitement in its second-half, with brilliant playing by the Cincinnati brass.

This recording, made in 1991, contains two fine performances. Indeed the performance of Hamlet is better than fine, it is positively thrilling. The Polish orchestra are well able to deliver on this and Leaper shows considerable empathy for the music. The recording is good, if a little lacking in absolute clarity at the bottom end which tends to be just a touch inclined to 'muddiness' at moments of greatest demand. This should not be over-emphasised in view of the excellence of the music making and the general acceptance of the recording. Indeed, the weighty sound-stage and quite close balance suits the heavier approach of Leaper when compared to Karajan on DGG for example, and to a lesser extent, Jansons on Chandos.

Tchaikovsky’s Sixth Symphony, universally known as the Pathétique, is among the most deeply moving and profound of all works. An enduring masterwork which Tchaikovsky considered to be his greatest composition. Once again the struggle against ‘fate’ is central to this symphony which was to be the last Tchaikovsky wrote. The première took place in October 1893 at St. Petersburg and just eight days later the composer was dead. Few farewells in music are more poignant.

The dynamic young French-Canadian conductor records the symphony that has played a central role in his remarkable career.brbrYannick Nezet-Seguin first heard it live in Montreal at the age of eight. It was the work he chose for his debut with both the Orchestre Meetropolitain du Grand Montreeal and the Philadelphia Orchestra.brbrConducting this quintessentially Russian music with the Rotterdam Philharmonic acknowledges his predecessor on the podium, Valery Gergiev, as well as showcasing the depth and refinement of the Dutch orchestras rich textures.brbrYannick Nezet-Seguin admires Tchaikovsky not just as a composer of heart-breaking melodies but also as a master symphonist.

Szell's performance is again of quite a different order, one of the very finest ever put on disc, white hot even beyond Bernstein's. The late John Culshaw, producer at the sessions in Walthamstow Assembly Hall in 1962, used to enjoy telling the story of winding up an already angry George Szell. That inspired tyrant of a conductor was furious at the start of the session to find that many players were not the same as those who had just given the concert performance with him. When he came back to listen to the first playback Culshaw deliberately kept the controls rather low, making the result seem dull. That prompted Szell, back on the podium, to unleash a force in the subsequent takes that has to be heard to be believed.

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.”

Composed in 1888 the Fifth Symphony is generally considered to be the most attractive of Tchaikovsky’s major works. When he first began writing the symphony he was suffering from a deep depression. However, he moved to the countryside and his state of mind became much more relaxed, enjoying the peace and quiet, gaining a new-found pleasure from his garden. This E minor Symphony reflects all the violent and conflicting emotions that he was experiencing at the time of its composition.