Anton Bruckner (1824-1896)
Symphonies 1, 2, 3, 7, 8 & 9
China NCPA Orchestra/Lü Jia
rec. live, 2016-2023, China NCPA Concert Hall, Beijing
NCPA Classics

These five symphonies have been separately released and a preview of the First, which will be issued shortly, has been provided to reviewers; the Fourth, Fifth and Sixth are still in production and a box set of the nine numbered symphonies (no Study or “Nullte”) will be released at the end of this year. As a result, I am here departing from MusicWeb’s usual policy of discretely reviewing individual issues and covering those so far issued as a “catch-up exercise”, as it were. Future releases, completing the cycle, will be reviewed separately, as normal.

An atmosphere of concentration – even devotion, pervades these live recordings, each apparently compiled from two live performances and perhaps patched from rehearsals; whatever the case, there is very little audience noise apart from the odd faint, stray cough and the conductor Lü Jia’s very occasional exhortatory groans.

His aesthetic predilection is primarily for very leisurely tempi in the manner of Rémy Ballot and Sergiu Celibidache, whose recordings of Bruckner’s symphonies are almost invariably much slower than many of my favourite versions. He is nonetheless also capable of whipping up huge excitement in the fast passages and has a first class orchestra at his disposal to do his bidding. His approach is decidedly retro; not for him the fluid, nervy Bruckner of the modernists; his aim is rather to bring out the heavy machinery, swing those blocks of granite into place and build the clichéd, even despised, “cathedrals of sound”. One thing is sure: his modus operandi is all of a piece and he has the courage of convictions to sustain it throughout these performances. I envisage that many punters will respond as positively as I do to its dedication; I love it.

Note: At the time of publishing, Symphony 7 & 8 can be streamed only through platforms such as Spotify and Apple Music. Because access to these may vary due to the listener’s location, links have not been provided.

Symphony No. 1 in C minor, WAB 101 (Vienna version, 1890-91)
rec. live, 31 August & 1 September 2023
NCPA Classics 81620201-1 [54]

Lü here chooses to play Bruckner’s last thoughts, which have come close to being reviled by Bruckner champions such as Robert Simpson as being fussy, overworked and stylistically inapt, but the Vienna version was favoured by eminent conductors such as Wand and Abbado, and both Gerd Schaller and Andris Nelsons have recorded excellent accounts of it.

Lü’s tempi are predictably on the leisurely side but not as slow as Ballot’s; the martial opening struts but does not plod and the lyrical section flows elegantly; the build-up, enjoying judicious application of rubato, to the thunderous climax at 12:19, is unfailingly urgent, and that excitement is sustained throughout the final couple of minutes. The Adagio is a harder movement to pull off as it is stronger on colour and sonority than melody; Lü makes the most of its rippling main theme and exploits its potential for striking dynamic range. As with the first movement, he skilfully manages the gradual ratcheting up of tension to the peroration at 12:46 then allows the music to subside serenely into the gentle coda – it is all neatly done. The wild Scherzo is already vintage Bruckner – one can even hear in it the seeds of the Scherzo of the Ninth – and it is vehemently delivered here; kudos to the timpanist. The finale, as with the Adagio, has its structural and melodic weaknesses but Lü shares Schaller’s conviction that its phrases must be given full, Romantic tonal weight and is liberal in his distending and distorting of their speed and shape to create drama – and moments such as the telling change of key at 6:06 are impressive. The listener’s attention is thus diverted away from the fragmentary nature of the movement as one frantic repetition and variation succeeds another, leading to a titanic final two minutes, with the timpanist once again making a momentous contribution.

(Of all the recordings here, this one betrays most obviously, via the occasional cough and grunt, the fact that the symphony was performed live.)

Symphony No. 2 in C minor, WAB 102 (1877 version, ed. Carragan)
rec. live, 17 & 18 June 2016
NCPA Classics 81620196-1 [60]

Lü’s tempi here are sprung and sprightly, similar to those of versions I esteem by Giulini and Nelsons – except for the Andante, which at nearly nineteen minutes is respectively three and two minutes slower than those two conductors. He is also liberal – even daring – in his provision of the pauses in this “Pausensinfonie” but his pacing of the slow movement is never laboured; the China NCPA orchestra maintain a pleasing legato and singing tone, justifying the spaciousness of phrasing and prolongation of those pauses. There are many things to admire here, such as the reappearance of the opening theme five minutes in, now decorated with wind arpeggios and enhanced by a brass chorale, then the pizzicato underlay from the lower strings is absolutely lovely in terms of gradation of dynamics and warmth of tone; the concentration of conductor, orchestra and audience is palpable. Some fine solo playing by the lead violin prepares the way for the rapturous coda – beautifully done.

The Scherzo is first muscular and emphatic, its impact amplified by the rich, resonant acoustic captured by the sound engineers and its galumphing peasant dance origins are emphasised over any charm. The Trio is ripely Romantic; this is full-blooded Bruckner devoid of pernickety point-making; the concluding bashes from the timpani are wild, loud and thrilling.

There is certainly nothing restrained or precious about the execution of the finale, which is purposefully driven from its first notes, careering heedlessly through the second loud theme, then relaxing gratefully into the gentle Alpine stroll Andante before joyfully sounding the carillon peals, building impressively and launching into the manic climax with complete abandon. I do not know to what extent if any the engineers have enhanced the sheer amplitude of the orchestra but the audience reaction suggests that they make one heck of a noise without any loss of control, and that comes across vividly in this recording

This is as fine an account of the still neglected Second Symphony as I know.

Buying this recording via a link below generates revenue for MWI, which helps the site remain free

Symphony No. 3 in D minor, WAB 103 (1889 version, ed. Nowak)
rec. live, 9-11 January 2023
NCPA Classics 81620164-1 [68]

Just as I was unpleasantly shocked by the speed with which Markus Poschner opened all his recordings of the three versions of this symphony as part of his just-completed cycle for Capriccio, I was almost equally as taken aback by Lü Jia’s application of the converse approach: the application of a very slow and deliberate tempo which is nothing like as fast as that of Ballot or Celibidache, hitherto the prime exponents of the supposedly more elephantine manner. It certainly takes some getting used to and I am in doubt whether it really works, as it robs that mysterious opening of a certain tension; in comparison, for example, with the version I admire by Paavo Järvi, Lü adds a full seven minutes to the first movement and in total sixteen minutes to the duration of what is already one of Bruckner’s shorter symphonies. Lü’s typically constant solicitous attention to dynamics helps sustain drama but there is an inescapable risk of stasis taking hold of proceedings and my impression is that for all of the orchestra’s virtuosity, only a few minutes into the first movement I feel that it is labouring under its own weight and thus it continues to unfold until the mighty coda grinds out its perversely impressive admonition. On the other hand, the grandeur of Bruckner’s conception still emerges intact – but if your idea of how Bruckner should be played is modelled on performances many years back by such as Rögner or, much more recently, Roth, you had best probably avoid this.

Neither the Adagio nor the Scherzo suffers from any such dilemmas; the former sails as stately as a galleon and how tenderly the violas sing their melody before the lower strings take over, while the violins trace a filigree over them. This is some of the most beautiful music Bruckner ever wrote and deserves to be savoured, not hurried, so Lü’s tempo, languid but not slack, serves it ideally. Episodes such as the woodwind and horn figures over the lower string pizzicato underlay from 10:44 onwards are not sentimentalised and the forte outburst at 12:24 is positively ferocious before the movement passes through a minatory tremolo section then unexpectedly subsides into the coda so reminiscent – or rather, anticipatory by twenty years – of the Largo of Dvořák’s “New World” Symphony. The Scherzo is relatively slow and there is a touch of the wooden leg about the Trio waltz but its homely honesty is rather endearing.

The overall timing for the finale would seem to indicate that we are back on more controversial ground but it begins energetically before defaulting into a steady pulse which hammers the listener into submission. It is slow without sounding enervated, especially as the buoyant sonority of the orchestral playing constantly beguiles the ear and we are constantly reassured that Lü has a goal in his sights. I thoroughly enjoy its build-up to the finish and the last minute is simply captivating in its determination to drive that vision home.

Of the six symphonies I am reviewing here, this and the Seventh are the only ones about which I have any minor reservations – and in the case of the Third, that concerns only the first movement; the rest is highly satisfactory.

Availability: MusicCDHK

Symphony No. 7 in E major, WAB 107
rec. live, 5-7 March 2023
NCPA Classics 81620168-1 [79]

The pattern continues here with speeds which are substantially slower than my preferred versions by such as Eichhorn – twelve minutes in total over the whole symphony, in fact – but once again, the hoary old critical maxim – “speeds aren’t everything” applies. There is no lack of cohesion or momentum in Lü’s way with this symphony and as the ratio of timings from movement to movement is consistent we are invited into a world where nothing jars, but everything blends. The lucid beauty of the orchestral playing also contrives to seduce the listener into compliance with those tempi and the gradual build-up to the eruption at 6:18 is cunningly contrived to release maximum impact when the pounding third theme in octaves is introduced. Perhaps I would prefer a little more propulsion thereafter – the march is very serious – but Lü prioritises grandeur over Gemütlichkeit. The great brass outburst at 13:05 is similarly majestic and the ensuing melody has such a lovely, lyrical sweep, the flute and clarinet soaring above the shimmering strings. Some performances are short on mystery, whereas the last three minutes of this one transport us into another dimension; the horns and woodwind at 23:15 are simply magical and the climax is overwhelming – as fine as any I have ever heard.

After such glories, the challenge is to rise to the emotional intensity of the Adagio and again the purity of the orchestral intonation and sense of line elevate this music into another plane. Bruckner’s melodic genius is given space to bloom. The great brass chorale at 15:05 is like the swinging open of the pearly gates and the journey towards apotheosis is inexorable. The inversion of the rising string figure at 20:21 into a descending one is deftly handled, and the famous cymbal clash at 21:02 really delivers. The coda is dreamily consolatory.

The Scherzo, by contrast, is a little too self-consciously deliberate for my taste but its massive assurance sits comfortably with Lü’s concept of the Brucknerian idiom and it is certainly enjoyable on its own terms. The Trio swoons invitingly if somewhat indulgently and the cumulative power of the movement is most persuasive.

The finale, by contrast, begins in positively spritely mood, bringing out the cheeky humour of those woodwind leaps. Otherwise, I have little to say about it other than that it sustains my interest throughout and yet again contrives to build to another magnificent climax. The whole symphony, my very minor reservations about tempi notwithstanding, is a triumph.

Symphony No. 8 in C minor, WAB 108 (1890 version, ed. Nowak)
rec. live, 11-13 June 2023
NCPA Classics 81620187-1 [101]

With an overall timing of 101 minutes, we enter here fully into Ballot and Celibidache territory, who take 103 and 104 minutes respectively. That might be a red flag for some – or an enticement for others. I certainly enjoy Ballot’s unusually protracted tempi even if ultimately my preferred recordings of the 1890 version are those by Karajan and the VPO (Haas edition) at 83 minutes and Sinopoli in Dresden (Nowak, as per here) at 86; such differences of over a quarter of an hour are hardly negligible.

Nonetheless, the amplitude of orchestral sound in combination with Lü’s maintenance of legato conspire to present an entirely convincing – indeed enthralling – account of this most majestic of symphonies and I find myself surrendering to its magnetism. The first great high point at six and a half minutes in, is immaculately prepared, and the moods of the subsequent questing, emotionally sombre yet ambivalent passage, succeeded by a more hopeful lyrical section, are tellingly negotiated; once again, I note Lü’s subtle manipulation of a very wide range of dynamics, faithfully and vividly recorded by the sound engineers, constantly providing interest and eschewing any suggestion of a uniformly lugubrious delivery. One may also revel in the sheer beauty of the orchestral playing, devoid of intonational or ensemble slips. The conclusion of the movement, beginning with a powerful orchestra tutti at 17:52, has real impact, then the music  subsides into the mysterious, ambiguous coda – perfect.

The Scherzo is both sly and insistent, pounding mercilessly, underscored by a splendidly prominent contrabass tuba. Again, there is no sense of undue sloth and I am instead swept along by its insistence. The Trio is markedly deliberate but its tune is not the usual rustic romp; this is dark, serious music of substance and can withstand the gravity of Lü’s treatment of it. I do like the audibility of the harp towards the close of the Trio and the resumption of the manic peal of bells characterising the Scherzo is wholeheartedly embraced before yet another equivocal conclusion – this is music full of questions and paradoxes and Lü recognises its complexity.

As ever, the Adagio sits at the heart of this symphony and in many ways Lü’s despatch of it reminds me of Karajan’s in its felicitous combination of grandeur and momentum. Pauses are given maximum space, nothing is hurried. I remain rapt as the movement unfurls with steady tread towards apotheosis. Along that route, big moments such as the explosions at 18:11, 22:07 and of course the ultimate apogee at 25:20 are given full weight, underpinned by thunderous timpani. The coda is almost unbearably poignant.

The galloping start to the finale promises much but here for the first time in this performance I find myself wondering whether Lü’s tempi are beginning to drag somewhat: both the lyrical second subject and the third march theme hang fire when executed so deliberately, but their steadiness is of a piece with the patient nobility of the conductor’s concept. The magnificence of the great brass chorales go a long way towards dispelling any reservations about the chosen pace and the fugal recapitulation of that third theme, preceded by an inordinately prolonged pause, exercises a kind of mesmeric force akin to Celibidache’s concentration, even if I would prefer more drive. Another daringly extended pause heralds a coda whose kinship to Wagner’s idiom has never been more emphatically portrayed.

Symphony No. 9 in C minor, WAB 109
rec. live 14-16 March 2023
NCPA Classics 81620134-1 [70]

Ten minutes slower overall than the live recording from Yutaka Sado with the Tonkünstler Symphony Orchestra in 2017 that I enthusiastically endorsed, and closer to Giulini’s 1989 account with the VPO which I similarly esteem, this is predictably monumental and majestic in approach, opening with the most baleful of brass and woodwind chords and ominously growling horns. The Gesangsperiode beginning at 4:10 is tinged with melancholy despite its stately beauty, and the otherworldliness so essential to faithfully recreating the Brucknerian aesthetic is abundantly present. The gradual accelerando building to the explosion at 16:52 – one of the grandest moments in Bruckner – is masterfully gauged; indeed, grandeur is the keynote here and the trick is to sustain tension without defaulting to bombast. Lü’s gift is knowing how to balance shattering climaxes against the passages of relaxed lyricism. The coda triumphantly recaptures the might and menace of the introduction, bringing us full circle.

It was the demonic scherzo as played by Gunther Wand and the BPO which first drew me into Bruckner’s world many years ago and its relentless rendering here reminds of that epiphany, yet Lü has the Trio skip blithely along like an innocent lambkin oblivious of its positioning between two pitiless predators characterised by the outer Scherzo sections.

Despite Lü’s preference for leisureliness, his Adagio is not quite as slow as Giulini’s but the consonance of their style is marked. The Wagner tubas are immaculately played and lend a remarkable depth of sonority to the orchestra colour; likewise, the violins’ playing of the lamenting second theme has a special quality about it; we could be listening to any of the other great world orchestras here. What I always think of as the “sunburst” change of key and mood at 17:47 is ideally warm and consolatory, contrasting so effectively with the supremely disturbing and jarring dissonant “dominant thirteenth” climactic chord five minutes later. The coda touches the level of sublimity which is imperative if this is to be both the conclusion of the symphony and the culmination of a cycle.

Buying this recording via a link below generates revenue for MWI, which helps the site remain free

I have no hesitation in recommending these performances as some of the most compelling accounts of Bruckner’s symphonies I have encountered, minor quibbles regarding slower tempi notwithstanding. They are grand, sensitive, exquisitely played and flawlessly engineered, entirely faithful to what I recognise as authentic recreations of Bruckner’s soundworld and spirit.

Ralph Moore