Antonín Dvořák (1841-1904)
Symphony No. 2 in B-flat major, Op.4, B12 (1865, rev 1887)
Symphony No. 8 in G major, Op.88, B163 (1889)
Melbourne Symphony Orchestra/Jaime Martín
rec. live, 25-29 June, 2024 (8), 31 March-5 April, 2025 (2), Hamer Hall, Arts Centre, Melbourne, Australia
Melbourne Symphony Orchestra MSO0004 SACD [58+39]

The Melbourne Symphony Orchestra and their Chief Conductor, Jaime Martín have embarked on a complete cycle of the Dvořák symphonies. This is the second release in the series; Vol. 1, which contained the Fifth and Sixth symphonies, was reviewed appreciatively by Ralph Moore. All the symphonies are being recorded live in concert. This instalment includes one of the composer’s greatest achievements and a symphony which is rarely heard outside complete cycles.

The latter is, of course, the Second symphony. In his useful notes Benjamin Pesetsky tells us that the work was one of two symphonies which Dvořák composed in 1865. He was so dissatisfied with the finished work that he planned to burn the score and would have done so had not a friend persuaded him otherwise; the friend in question had some incentive because he had lent the composer the money to have the score bound. Dvořák revised the score in 1887 in preparation for a performance in March 1888; sadly, that was to be the first and only performance during Dvořák’s lifetime.

The symphony is conceived on an expansive scale; Martín’s performance plays for 58:18. Immediately, I noted the warmth and sense of space that he brings to the first movement – and also fire and energy, where required. The music is undeniably attractive but just as undeniable is the fact that the movement is over-extended.  Dvořák introduces a profusion of musical ideas and whilst these are attractive, there are too many of them; I’m afraid the movement is too diffuse. Despite the excellence of the playing the movement, at 16:40, rather outstays its welcome. The Poco adagio second movement is similarly expansive – Martín takes 17:02 to play it. The music is appealing and lyrical and I find Martín convincing in the way he lays it out. Arguably, this movement is also too long but I think it’s the most likeable of the four. I think Dvořák’s cause is helped significantly by the persuasiveness of the present performance; there’s a warm glow to the sound of the strings and horns and also many felicitous touches from the woodwind.

The Scherzo is unusual in being prefaced by what sounds like a slow introduction; the movement springs into life at 0:37. Thereafter, we hear a multiplicity of musical ideas but I can’t help feeling that the sheer amount of these ideas rather works against the establishment of momentum; the material is not organised with sufficient tautness. I couldn’t help but reflect that the comparable movement in the Eighth symphony takes less than half the amount of time to play. The finale is marked Allegro con fuoco. It’s the shortest of the four and while the criticism of diffuseness is still applicable there’s no doubting the red-blooded nature of the MSO’s performance. As I observed earlier, the Second symphony rarely gets an airing outside complete Dvořák symphony cycles and it wouldn’t surprise me to learn that the members of the Melbourne orchestra had never played it before, either individually or collectively. Though the work is flawed, I believe, the opportunity to play it must be a refreshing change for orchestras who normally encounter only the composer’s last three symphonies. They and their conductor make the best possible case for the work. Though I found Jaime Martín was a persuasive guide to the symphony, when I took down from the shelves Rafael Kubelik’s 1972 recording for DG I couldn’t help but notice that he takes nearly five minutes less overall (his performance plays for 53:30). The differences occur in the first two movements, both of which take less time in Kubelik’s hands. That said, there is always room for a different view and I repeat that I found Martín persuasive. The other point to be made is that while DG’s analogue sound is perfectly satisfactory it can’t match the depth and richness of the digital sound that we experience with this Melbourne recording.

Some twenty-four years separate the Second symphony (in its original version) and the Eighth. Placing the two together in this set just emphasises the extent to which Dvořák had developed during that time. In the later symphony, his handling of the material is significantly more assured and focussed. In addition, while the melodic material in the Second is always attractive, in the Eighth the material is consistently memorable. In the earlier symphony we can hear lots of hints of the Dvořák style which lay in the future but by the time he came to compose his G major symphony he was at the height of his powers and the music is entirely characteristic with the style that we know and love today.

The opening of the first movement bodes well; the lovely cello theme unfolds in a manner that is ideally spacious yet forward moving. Unlike the Second symphony, the MSO members must have played this symphony frequently but throughout the whole work there’s a welcome freshness in the way they deliver the music. I always think that this movement is a delight; the music is imbued with a sense of fresh air and clear blue skies – even when Dvořák uses a minor key. The present performance is similarly delightful. The Adagio movement is expertly shaded and beautifully expressed; Martín and his orchestra seem to me to be right in the spirit of the music. This movement is a prime example of Dvořák’s compositional development since the Second symphony; here, the material is so much better organised and consists of truly memorable tunes. The third movement is not formally designated as a scherzo; the principal marking is Allegro grazioso. I can best describe this performance as having a spirited lilt to it; the performance is a smiling one and it’s a delight throughout. In the finale the MSO clearly enjoy themselves – and none more so than the horns in their exuberant trill passages. The fast sections are high-spirited while the cantabile episodes are played with genuine warmth and affection. Some may feel that Martín lingers a little too lovingly in the slower passage just before the orchestral fireworks burst into life one last time; all I can say is that I loved what I heard. The closing pages are as exhilarating as I’d want them to be. I enjoyed this account of the Eighth symphony from first bar to last. The Eighth is my favourite among the Dvořák symphonies and this excellent performance reminded me why I love it so much.

The Second symphony is a somewhat flawed work, though an attractive one. However, it’s well worth hearing, especially in such a good performance as the present one, because it allows us to chart Dvořák’s career as a symphonist. Commercially and artistically, it makes good sense to pair it with one of his very finest works.

I listened to the stereo layer of these hybrid SACDs and was very impressed with the sound quality. The recording is expertly balanced so that all the detail you could wish to hear is in evidence. The sound has impact and warmth. In short, the engineers have shown the splendid playing of the MSO to best advantage.

It’s worth saying that although the coupling of these two works has meant that the set occupies two discs, I believe they are being offered for the price of one.

On the basis of this pair of discs and Ralph Moore’s enthusiastic welcome to the previous instalment, this could well become a notable Dvořák cycle.

John Quinn

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