Anton Bruckner (1824-1896)
Bruckner from the Archives Volume 5
Symphony No 6 in A major, WAB 106 (1881, Nowak Edition)
Te Deum WAB 45 (1884)
Symphony No 7 in E major, WAB 107 (1884/85, Nowak Edition)
NDR Symphony Orchestra/Christoph von Dohnányi (No 6)
Wilma Lipp (soprano); Elisabeth Höngen (mezzo-soprano), Nicolai Gedda (tenor); Walter Kreppel (bass)
Vienna Singverein
Vienna Philharmonic/Herbert von Karajan (Te Deum)
South German Radio Symphony Orchestra/Hans Müller-Kray (No 7)
rec. live, 18 November 1961 Musikhalle, Hamburg (No 6); 26 May 1962, Vienna Musikverein (Te Deum); 22 September 1955, Sendesaal, Villa Berg, Stuttgart (No 7)
Texts not included
SOMM Ariadne 5033-2 [2 CDs: 142]

This is the penultimate instalment of SOMM’s Bruckner from the Archives series. (Volume 1 ~ Volume 2 ~ Volume 3 ~ Volume 4).  Christoph von Dohnányi, who we heard in a 1963 account of the Fifth symphony in Vol. 4, appears again, this time in the Sixth. Hans Müller-Kray, who directs the Seventh symphony makes his first appearance in the series, as does Herbert von Karajan, one of the leading Bruckner interpreters of the post-War era.  

When I reviewed the previous volume in this series, I speculated that Christoph von Dohnányi’s reading of the Fifth symphony might be his earliest recorded Bruckner performance. Well, I was wrong; the team at SOMM have unearthed a performance of the Sixth given some two years earlier. Here, he’s directing a different ensemble, the NDR Symphony Orchestra.

When I listened to Dohnányi’s account of the Fifth it seemed to me that his was quite a direct style. That trait is in evidence here too and I don’t say that in any pejorative sense. In the first movement he paces the music well and there’s good, strong rhythmic propulsion. When the second subject is reached, Dohnányi ensures that the music is lyrically phrased but even so he doesn’t sacrifice momentum. He exhibits good control throughout the movement; this is a taut reading and I liked it. There’s appropriate gravitas and nobility in the Adagio. That keening oboe melody brings a note of tragedy or, at the very least, of deep melancholy. The second group (2:38) is long-breathed; hereabouts, I admired the way the lines are sustained.  Dohnányi’s approaches to climaxes are patient and when the climax in question is reached he and his orchestra produce all the grandeur that the music needs. This is a dignified, eloquent account of the slow movement.

I like the steady tread of the Scherzo. Dohnányi ensures that the music is well articulated. Arguably, there’s something of a price to be paid for the Scherzo’s steady tread; in quite correctly adopting a tempo for the rustic Trio that is in proportion I sense that Dohnányi paces the Trio a bit too slowly; I would have welcomed a speed that was just a fraction fleeter. The opening pages of the finale are exciting but then, at 1:48, Dohnányi very rightly relaxes and gives a graceful presentation of the second group. As the movement unfolds, the conductor controls things very well and he knits the various episodes together very successfully. He interprets the broader, lyrical passages very convincingly and then, where required, he encourages his orchestra to play with fire. This is a convincing interpretation of the symphony. There are one or two minor incidences of untidiness rawness (this is a live performance) but overall, the NDR Symphony Orchestra plays the music very well. Judging by the applause at the end, the audience enjoyed the performances, as I did. The sound is very good, especially when you consider that we are listening to a radio aircheck which is more than sixty years old.

It was a very shrewd bit of planning to include a performance of the Te Deum in this set because, as Benjamin Korstvedt reminds us in his valuable booklet essay, the work is contemporaneous with the two symphonies; Bruckner completed a draft of the Te Deum in May 1881 before he’d finished the Sixth and he returned to it in September 1883 after completing work on the Seventh. The performance that SOMM has selected is of especial interest because it’s conducted by Herbert von Karajan. He made many recordings of Bruckner’s symphonies, including a complete cycle for DG in the 1970s and early 1980s (review) and two commercial recordings of the Te Deum, one with the BPO in the 1970s and a digital remake with the VPO some ten years later. Nonetheless, this release of a live concert performance from 1962 is a welcome addition to his discography.

Unfortunately, there are one or two drawbacks. One concerns the sound. The performance was given as part of a concert in the Vienna Musikverein, which was broadcast; what we are hearing is an ORF aircheck and despite Lani Spahr’s best efforts the results aren’t entirely satisfactory. The radio engineers chose to favour the voices – the choir as well as the soloists – and the result is that the orchestra is often relegated to the background. Furthermore, the sheer volume of sound achieved at some big climaxes rather overwhelms the microphones, though one can clearly hear the VPO timpanist, whose playing in some climatic moments is absurdly loud (in fairness to the timpanist, I suspect a microphone had been placed dangerously close to his drums). The other thing we must consider is the singing. The members of the Vienna Singverein are brave in the face of Bruckner’s significant demands on them, especially in the closing pages. However, their singing is typical of the period in that there’s rather too much vibrato; their performance is good on the whole but it offers a reminder of how choral singing standards have risen over the last six decades. When it comes to the singing, though, the main obstacle for me is the contribution of the soloists, Benjamin Korstvedt very fairly draws attention to the fact that the solo quartet are “rather operatic in style”, That’s certainly the case. Bruckner gave particular prominence to the soprano and tenor soloists. Nicolai Gedda is probably the best of the quartet; he offers clarion clear, ringing tone. On the other hand, the contribution of Wilma Lipp is not remotely to my taste; she deploys excessive vibrato and portamento. Elisabeth Höngen, a fine artist, is anonymous on this occasion; to be fair, I think that’s probably due to a combination of Bruckner’s writing and Lipp’s prominence. On reviewing my notes, the only thing I seem to have noticed about Walter Kreppel’s contribution is that at ‘Et rege eos’ in the work’s fourth section, his pitching is not entirely convincing.

Karajan’s conducting is another matter, though. He directs the performance with fire and energy and there’s no doubt that he inspired the chorus to give a highly committed performance; as examples, their singing in the third section, ‘Aeterna fac’ is fiery and they really pour everything they have into the last section, ‘In te, Domine, speravi’. Karajan certainly conveys the grandeur of the work and the conclusion of the Te Deum could only be described as blazing. Despite my reservations, this performance is worth hearing as an example of Karajan’s inspirational direction of large forces.

Ironically, it’s the earliest recording in this set that is presented in the best sound. The performance of the Seventh symphony is a live one – but without an audience – which dates from September 1955. As with the other performances, we hear it in an aircheck, this time from a broadcast by SDR.  Frankly, the sound is astonishingly good given its age. Everything is clear and well balanced, plenty of detail can be heard, there’s a very good dynamic range and there’s never a hint of overload in the climaxes. The sound is a tribute to the excellence of the work of the SDR engineers in 1955.

The performance is given by the radio station’s orchestra, the South German Radio Symphony Orchestra under their chief conductor, Hans Müller-Kray (1908-1969). I confess that I’d not encountered the work of Müller-Kray before. I established from a bit of internet research that in 1948 the US authorities running that part of post-war Germany installed him as head of music at South German Rado (SDR), which post carried with it the job of Chief Conductor of the South German Rado Symphony Orchestra; he led the orchestra from 1948 until his death. By the time the present recording of the Seventh symphony was made he and the orchestra had been working together for some seven years, therefore; it shows.

There’s much to like about Müller-Kray’s way with the first movement, though there are also a couple of subjective caveats. The wonderful opening theme is ideally warm and spacious, yet there’s also momentum, which I like. Müller-Kray picks up the pace, rightly at 2:00; the increased speed is quite sprightly but I didn’t think it was excessive. At 4:36 (to 5:33) we hear for the first time what Benjamin Korstvedt accurately terms “a delightfully lean, rhythmically animated motif in the strings”. Here, Müller-Kray adopts a tempo that is appreciably faster than before. A quicker tempo is correct but I can’t escape the feeling that he presses the music uncomfortably.  Thereafter, whenever we hear episodes derived from this passage the same swift pacing applies. Elsewhere, though, the conductor’s tempo selection is generally very good; as an example, I really like the very measured and thoughtful way he presents the passage between 7:31 and 9:16. His orchestra plays very well indeed for him; there’s no untidiness whatsoever – this performance has clearly been scrupulously prepared – and both the collective sound and the solo contributions are excellent. In passing, I must mention the delightfully woody sound of the clarinets in the passage around 7:00. Müller-Kray judges the build-up to the movement’s conclusion (from 16:41) very well indeed; the pacing is satisfyingly expansive and he brings everything to a noble, sonorous conclusion. As I’ve indicated, I have one or two tempo-related reservations but I do admire the freshness of this conductor’s interpretation.

I need not spend as much time considering the remining three movements because all of them strike me as being successful. The Adagio is solemn and dignified. Müller-Kray paces and shapes the music in an ideal fashion, demonstrating a fine understanding of Brucknerian style. His conception of the music is supported to the hilt by his orchestra which plays excellently for him. This is an impressive account of the movement, one that is fully worthy of its stature. The Scherzo is delivered in a lively fashion; the rhythms have the right amount of bite. In the Trio section we hear playing that is supple and suave; I like the affectionate phrasing. Müller-Kray takes a fundamentally cheerful approach to the finale, in addition to which there is nobility and strength in the big tuttis.

Presented in remarkably good sound for its vintage, Hans Müller-Kray’s interpretation of the Seventh symphony is a notable one and he’s very well served by his orchestra. For me, it’s the highlight of the set and, indeed, one of the highlights of the series to date. Like the other two recordings, this performance is, I understand, here released for the first time. I’m glad that it has seen the light of day; it’s definitely worthy of its place in this series and too good to be immured in the archives for ever.

Lani Spahr has wrought his usual magic on these archive recordings. I’ve mentioned the sonic issues with the Te Deum but I’m certain this will be due to the original source material. The sound for the Sixth symphony is very good while the performance of the Seventh is offered in sound that simply belies its age. As has been the case with the four previous instalments in this series, Benjamin Korstvedt provides a detailed and authoritative booklet essay.

The last two symphonies and Psalm 150 will constitute the final release in this important series. That’s due for release in the first weeks of 2025, I understand. In the meantime, Bruckner collectors who have been following this set of releases can invest with confidence in this penultimate instalment.

John Quinn

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