Brahms' Third Symphony

[amw]

God, what an ugly dude. And such a bad, washed out photo. Warner was wise to reissue it with a deer or something on the cover, but this is the issue I'm listening to, so you must share my pain.

Harding/Bremen Chamber Orchestra/Erato is I assume the Harding recording alluded to earlier. As far as seasons go, it's wintry rather than autumnal. The texture is light and somewhat fluffy, like fresh snow, and every one of Brahms's many lines is brought out in relief. In spite of all the clipped (presumably HIP-influenced) articulation and sharp attacks, however, the first movement fails to "go". Not in terms of tempo (which is pretty much identical to Kertész's, whose reading is one of the most thrilling, though much less flexible) but in terms of energy levels. Perhaps the orchestra is a bit underpowered, I don't know—though that's possibly the conductor's fault for never really letting them play loudly and tapering every phrase with a diminuendo. The woodwinds and horns are excellent, regardless. Slow movement is kept flowing, though it's cold (lacking the passion brought by Günter Wand & the Hamburgers), like a calm but icy river. 'Bones don't blend well at the end and even sound somewhat menacing, I suspect they're jobbers though. Fewer clipped phrases here, as well.

I was wondering if maybe a few sparks of warmth would develop, particularly in the finale. The third movement is balletic, perhaps something out of The Nutcracker with snowflakes floating down. (I'd probably listen to a Tchaikovsky 6 with Harding, if he could be persuaded not to hold back so much on the fffs and ffffs.) The fourth movement is notable for its tonal beauty, which is not what it should be notable for in my view, and again never really convinces in its more energetic passages, though hints of warmth start to creep in during the climactic section leading up to the recapitulation. And again during the return of that theme during the coda, enough to create a kind of resolution that is effective and somewhat touching. I mean, maybe that's just hypothermia, but who knows. Again, I don't mean cold in the sense of unemotional (though it is quite reserved, which is not exactly the same thing), just in the sense of... literally cold as well as quiet, lonely, Schubert Winterreise-ish. The parts of this symphony that are loud/passionate/energetic, in this recording, often feel like shouting loudly on an empty snow-covered pasture: like dropping sounds into a deep well of silence.

Not really the kind of thing I'm looking for, so this goes to the bottom of the list, for now. (I'm sure I could easily come up with 10 worse recordings that I've heard, but I'm wiping the slate clean for now, so recordings "only" have to compete with Jochum/LPO, Kubelik, Wand and Kertész at this point!)

[amw]

And now, Mr. Popular, #1 choice of BBC Radio 3's "Building a Library", Gramophone, and possibly even David Hurwitz. I don't remember.

Somehow (again I think it's phrasing and articulation) Abbado fills the music with warmth and passion from the very start. Maybe this is the summer recording. There's no heaviness to the textures, in spite of a relative lack of clarity and super-careless Berlin strings. (Or maybe that's digital watermarking? I'm streaming this and it is DG after all.) There are actually a few places where I'd prefer a heavier, more mysterious and shadowy feeling, eg in the transition back to the 1st movement recapitulation. The other thing affecting this Greatest Recording of All Time seems to be—dare I say it—a lack of long-range planning. Every individual phrase is near-perfect, but somehow they don't lead into one another with the sense of inevitability I got from Kertész. On the other hand, the emotional side of things is played up enough that it doesn't bother you. A "heart" rather than "head" performance.

The Berlin woodwinds are even better than the Bremen ones (predictably), and the equally flowing andante manages to be both more serene and more emotionally involving. Abbado does not lend the music any of its strangeness or magic found in Harding's recording, which made that andante retain interest despite its lack of passion. Instead he aims for an uncomfortable mix of Wand-style passion and Kubelik-style serene nobility, which makes the passion sound... somewhat unmotivated and even excessive. Like I said, lack of long-range planning. If the symphony's first two movements are a "light half" and the second two a "dark half", it's the dark half where Abbado picks up and tries for real ambiguity instead of the frequent declarations of "I'm happy now! Now I'm sad! Now I'm happy! Now I'm mysteriously noncommittal!". I think this is one of the most beautiful Poco allegrettos I've heard in spite of its lack of a strong rhythmic sense (and presence of great slowness); it sounds genuinely conflicted in a way that springs from the material instead of being imposed upon it. The finale is doom-laden with a powerfully surging second theme, just as I like it, although I could ask for a bit more power at the beginning. (Later on this is delivered.) Perhaps the cellos are allowed to dominate the horn in the second theme, but that's a minor issue. Though I'm not sure the transition to the coda is very well accomplished, the coda itself is excellent, giving the impression of hard-won rest even though our ears ~3 minutes ago were insisting that the rest was not hard-won but simply a result of the violent, dramatic, tragic music of the main section just sort of running out of steam.

I think the finale would be very close with the finale of Jochum/LPO (current favourite for that movement) if it came down to a contest, and the Poco allegretto is better than anyone else's. However, I have reservations about the coherence of the first two movements. I wonder why "predominantly light with dark bits" seems so much harder to pull off than "predominantly dark with light bits".

Current leaderboards:
01. Jochum/LPO [review necessary]
02. Kertész
03. Abbado
04. Wand/NDR (RCA)
05. Kubelik
06. Harding

Every one of these Brahms 3s is in my top 10, so there's that >_>

[amw]

I had certain expectations going into Mackerras/SCO—fast, hard driven, somewhat underplayed, thin textures—and these were mostly delivered upon. The first movement is almost rushed, with some of the notes in the opening theme sounding as though they're just a fraction of a second early. Nonetheless I don't find the tempi quite so mechanical as some of Mackerras's critics do (*cough*)—the small accelerandi/ritardandi are well judged, though at this speed the calm ending of the movement seems a bit unpremeditated. The slow movement is taken at a moderate tempo and is calm with little emotional excess and great mystery; very well done, but the contrasts are underplayed. In the gossamer-light third movement Mackerras continues to play up the mystery and ghostliness, suggesting forces unheard behind the music. At least the equal of Abbado's—a marvelous performance, I can't decide if it's my favourite or not (possibly would need to be a bit more dance-like for that). As for the finale, it's an exercise in creating the impression of greater orchestral power than (I suspect) the Scottish Chamber Orchestra is capable of—restrained but perfectly judged use of timpani and brass fortissimos, + keeping a tight leash on dynamics elsewhere. Articulation (pesante) and speed (fast) do the rest. A quite unexpected aspect of this performance is one of the best evocations of "heroic striving" in the second theme—something I would have expected more of from the "romantic" conductors like Kubelik and Wand, but apparently they didn't do as well at it.

Overall the performance ends more strongly than it begins, though the ending isn't so original hermeneutically (he brings the dynamics down just after the climax to suggest a collapse, then redemption emerging from the ashes or whatever). The other thing that bothered me increasingly over time was what I can only describe as a tendency to play groups of notes identically just because they are identical, without regard for their different positions in a sequence/phrase/musical sentence. I think that's a minor thing though. The performance is otherwise on a level with Wand/NDR for the most part; if I rate it higher, it's mostly for the Poco allegretto.



Once again I seem to be juxtaposing a "head" performance with a "heart" one—though György Szell and the Western Reserve Orchestra display an equal if not greater affinity for the structure of the work. Somewhat unusually, the passionate development section of the first movement is played with an almost total absence of drama (more notable because of how much drama was on display in the exposition), and lead to a calm retransition of great depth. This isn't a flaw so much as a long-term structural strategy which pays off at the start of the coda, where rather than accelerating as Mackerras, Kertész, etc do to add excitement, he can coast on the pre-existing exposition drama, create a big climax that isn't attempting to compete with a different big climax in the development, and quiet down to a very convincing ending. Clever girl. (Szell's tempi are much more fluid than almost anyone else's except Kertész's and Kubelik's so far.) The slow movement, similarly, describes a single long arc, with less attention paid than usual to the ups-and-downs of the individual sections. It's a bit less successful only because he doesn't bring the arc quite high enough—it doesn't shake the impression of a movement dominated by disciplined serenity, without enough ambiguity to be satisfying.

The third movement is excellent if without the "something extra" brought by Abbado/Mackerras; very straight until the big ritardando at the end, which is kept dynamically restrained. The finale doesn't quite thrum with power and energy—I'm not sure why, since it's only a few seconds slower than Jochum or Mackerras. If anything, it's a bit over-romanticised. Again Szell favours continuity over contrast, somewhat counterintuitively, which has a "classicising" effect at the cost of some excitement and drama; and again he's playing the long game, keeping one eye on the start of the coda through the whole movement. The coda has a sense of resignation rather than transfiguration, which is also fairly unusual.

The truth is, though—although I can recognise all the nice things about this performance, it didn't really gel in the way I wanted it to. Perhaps that's Szell's single-minded focus on structure, which might make this a great first choice for someone who's never heard Brahms 3 before—and the performance is widely regarded as one of the best—but apart from the first movement I was not especially moved.

I wasn't sure if this was Szell or just too much Brahms 3, so of course I had to put on another performance.



It was Szell.

After about thirty seconds I was prepared to call this performance definitive. Apart from the lack of repeats, of course (damn it). Tempi are ideal. The lyricism/passion duality of the first movement is brought out better than I've heard elsewhere with absolutely no soft edges or interpretive confusion—it's both tragic/passionate and pastoral/lyrical at the same time. Which is kinda the point of a duality. The slow movement is disturbed under the calm surface, as it should be; the high, suspended two-note figures that intrude throughout the movement have the effect of dark shapes swimming under a rippled surface. The Poco allegretto's dance origins are emphasised through vibrant bass notes (that was intentional, right?); it is a light and fairly objective performance, not quite as balletic as Harding maybe, but also not quite as searching as Abbado. The finale establishes its high energy immediately through the sotto voce opening and maintains a different sort of continuity (high nervousness) to Szell's reading, though probably not as much continuity as the mad dash for the finish line I remember from Walter's NYPO recording. Walter isn't the last word in orchestral heft and power (that would be Wand or Jochum), comparatively fleet (actually more so than Mackerras), and setting the template for Jochum by not relaxing the pace or internal agitation of the music until the very end, so that the final chorale and return of the first movement's material seem like an unearned benediction, a halo cast over the music. A very different effect from Szell, both equally valuable, I think.

Downsides: the Columbia Symphony Orchestra (or whatever this is—supposedly a pick-up band of LA area players handpicked by Walter or something) isn't very good. Lacks a certain amount of fire. Um... some of it is merely excellent as opposed to a world benchmark. I can't think of much else, honestly. I am curious to revisit Walter's NYPO performance as well as the third one that reportedly exists (don't remember whether it's earlier or later). Meanwhile, this takes first place, though not quite as definitive as I'd initially imagined (and could eventually be displaced).

Leaderboards:

01. Walter/Columbia
02. Jochum/LPO [review necessary]
03. Kertész
04. Abbado
05. Mackerras
06. Wand/NDR (RCA)
07. Kubelik
08. Szell
09. Harding

[Que]

Brahms symphonies happen to be an old passion of mine. 

Bruno Walter's New York traversal will definitely be a notch up (or two) artistically, more intense and tightly knit, more accomplished in execution.

[asin]B00020HCH2[/asin]

And here is your "other" Brahms 3 by Bruno Walter - a prewar recording with the Vienna Philharmonic.
Opus Kura is a guarantee for a natural, high quality transfer.

[asin]B000ICMDAU[/asin]

Q

[aukhawk]

God, what an ugly dude. And such a bad, washed out photo. ...

I was wondering if maybe a few sparks of warmth would develop, ...

Not really the kind of thing I'm looking for, so this goes to the bottom of the list, for now.

Expectation bias kicking in?    (And how could it not?)

I didn't know Kertesz had recorded Brahms 3, but (without hearing it) he sounds like the right man for the job, to me.

[(poco) Sforzando]

Bruno Walter's New York traversal will definitely be a notch up (or two) artistically, more intense and tightly knit, more accomplished in execution.

I just ordered that. I don't know any of Walter's 3rd's, but I remember we had a Walter 4th at my parents' house that I thought outstanding. He did one passage in particular in the second movement that I've never heard matched (not that I listen to every Brahms 4th in existence). It is the return of the second theme in the recapitulation, where first the strings play the passage quietly in E major, and then they soar an octave above in forte, with syncopated rhythms. I suspect you all know the spot. I have yet to hear another performance that matches Walter for passion at that moment; other recordings (like Mackerras) just play the notes.

[Brian]

I'm so glad these mini-reviews are happening. This is new GMG essential reading...and has inspired a need for me to listen to the Third Symphony, pronto. Kertesz is on the shelf and heading for the CD player.

[(poco) Sforzando]

Apart from the lack of repeats, of course (damn it).

This is a pet peeve of mine as well. Back in the 50s and 60s it was almost de rigueur for performers to ignore indicated repeats. Toscanini cut the repeats in Beethoven's 5th, even though the first movement is very short, and also in the Eroica, even though there is documentary evidence that Beethoven insisted on keeping it. Pianists routinely cut the repeat in the finale of the Appassionata, even though Beethoven puts in a note specifically requiring it. But even Gunther Schuller, who wrote a whole book arguing for total fidelity to composers' scores, left out the first movement repeat in his Brahms 1.

Of course you can rip the CD to a file and edit it so as to add the repeat. This is easy with LvB 5 where the repeat is literal. Conversely, I ripped the CD from the new Sony Stravinsky box to remove a mistaken repeat in the second movement of Jeu de Cartes. But this is harder with something like Brahms 3 where there are first and second endings. I suppose you can splice in a couple of bars from a recording that does have the repeat. I did something like this once when transferring an LP of a Mozart violin sonata recording that had no commercial CD reissue; the LP had a huge pop that stuck the needle, so I patched in a couple of bars from another version. Took some adjusting for tempo and dynamics, and maybe not quite kosher, but it worked.

[amw]

I only had time for one Brahms 3 today and picked Karajan/Vienna at random. (Karajan's recordings are always referred to by date, unfortunately I don't know what date this is. Qobuz says 1962 but it's hardly reliable. I thought the Karajan Brahms to watch out for was 1963, but maybe I got it mixed up with something else.) My first thoughts were energetic, dramatic and a little superficial, but on the other hand hardly anyone else was getting this kind of clean, professional sound out of orchestras in the 1960s (compare the Columbia Symphony Orchestra above). A strong rhythmic sense is apparent in the first movement with its many 6/4 and 9/4 cross-accents, which gradually rose in my estimation as I listened. K is good at the details here—it seems like the coda will never run out of steam despite its diminuendo, but a single, well-placed and suitably long silence before the final section absolutely sweeps away the built-up momentum.

The slow movement is on the fast side of things, kept restrained for the most part. Unfortunately there's very little in the way of darkness or mystery here, of undercurrents propelling the music here and there. The climaxes are surprisingly tasteful, nowhere near as Wagnerian as Abbado's, while still feeling like climaxes—at the same time, the unrelenting happiness doesn't grant them much heft. The Poco allegretto on the other hand is deeply ambiguous, with a kind of cool objectivity and surface polish masking deeper mixed feelings. Has almost no dance feeling, sort of like Abbado, in this case due to persistent rubato. The finale is on the fast side but avoids any flashiness or drama. A reviewer described it as "serious", which seems a good epithet. I would also describe it as "relaxed"—in fact the overall impression left by this performance is of relaxation and geniality, the ambiguity being more like vague flashes of other emotions across a mostly untroubled psyche. Thus the fundamental problem of the finale (transitioning from a violent and stormy allegro to a reconciliation or resignation) is essentially evaded by making the allegro itself not more than slightly stern, which I suppose makes the end more convincing, or something. It does little to change my negative opinion of Karajan, but there are a few nice moments that do things I haven't heard elsewhere, I guess.

01. Walter/Columbia
02. Jochum/LPO [review necessary]
03. Kertész
04. Abbado
05. Mackerras
06. Wand/NDR (RCA)
07. Kubelik
08. Karajan/Vienna (Decca)
09. Szell
10. Harding

@Sforzando: The issue with the first movement repeat in the symphony is that the first ending changes the character of the wind attacks of the opening chords, which are never played the same way as they are at the beginning. So you'd need to splice those in from a different recording as well... and as it happens those two chords sound completely different in every single recording and it's really obvious. Like I've not yet heard two performances where the two opening chords sound remotely similar, even performances using the same orchestra only a couple of years apart. I have no idea why that is.

[Sergeant Rock]

(Karajan's recordings are always referred to by date, unfortunately I don't know what date this is. Qobuz says 1962

The CD booklet says the recording sessions took place 29 Sep-8 Oct 1961. The Brahms was published in 1962, the Dvorak 1965.

Sarge

[(poco) Sforzando]

@Sforzando: The issue with the first movement repeat in the symphony is that the first ending changes the character of the wind attacks of the opening chords, which are never played the same way as they are at the beginning. So you'd need to splice those in from a different recording as well... and as it happens those two chords sound completely different in every single recording and it's really obvious. Like I've not yet heard two performances where the two opening chords sound remotely similar, even performances using the same orchestra only a couple of years apart. I have no idea why that is.

Yes, I know. It's an approximation. Make of it what you will; it all depends on how important the repeat is to you. Once the repeat gets going the discrepancies between recordings are not likely to make much difference.

[amw]

Re-evaluating Jochum/LPO while I still remember Walter/Columbia (and hopefully shortly before evaluating Walter/Vienna). My favourite Brahms symphony recording still holds up, warm and passionate and energetic, with great rhythmic vitality (particularly in the hemiolas and cross-accents). Jochum has Karajan's sense of perfect timing, but perhaps a little more depth. The development section of the first movement launches with somewhat less fury than I remembered, though I can't think of a recording I've compared so far that does better, apart from possibly Walter. This recording positions itself within, essentially, a large stylistic middle ground, but towards the fleeter/more driven end of that middle ground—I can see potential criticisms that it lacks gravitas or is too literal, but I don't see those as issues in this piece—and more fluid in tempo than most. The first part of the first movement coda is utterly ferocious, which I like, but which (as in Mackerras) does not prepare the ending very well, Jochum not nailing the pause as Karajan does. There is however a strong sense of much left unsaid and unresolved after the first movement; probably not what Brahms intended, but prepares the rest of the symphony well.

The second movement is on the slow side (over 9 minutes) but takes a comparatively impassioned approach as well, the music never feeling really settled. Jochum hits the sforzandi pretty hard, I've noticed. The Poco allegretto is more dynamically restrained and objective than most of the recordings here—certainly more so than Karajan whom I recently praised for being dynamically restrained and objective—while possessing a fair bit more of a dance feeling. Its closest relative is probably Harding, strangely enough. That I like it better is mostly due to Jochum's sense of timing. (Anyway Harding's third movement was the best part of his recording >_>) Not a reading for anyone who thinks this movement should be emotional, though; the emotions are well buried and only surface gradually towards the end. Can't call it a favourite. Finale is, as I have described elsewhere, perfect, whip-crack powerful (and even then with its full extent held in reserve til the climax) and ending in a sinner's prayer rather than outright redemption. Like Walter, Jochum does not allow the music to relax until the final bars.

I don't know if this necessarily deserves its No. 1 spot back, since I didn't like the third movement so much, but this is probably on the same level as Walter/Columbia. So... something.



And now for Jochum/BPO, since I don't know that anyone has actually sat down and compared the two. Received wisdom has it that the LPO set has a better 3rd and 4th, whereas the BPO set has a better 1st and 2nd, but we shall see!

Obviously this is very similar, some of the rhythmic syncopations in the first movement sounding almost identical. Some of the polish is gone—interpretively I mean, eg transitions between sections aren't always as smooth as they could have been—and some energy is added. I will say that some of the slower/more lyrical passages are played with greater affection than in the LPO version, and the coda of the first movement is done slightly better. The slow movement on the other hand doesn't have the same continuous unsettled feel, and is calmer and more pastoral, except for a few passages that are more energetic and passionate. This approaches but does not match Abbado's reading for manic-depressive disorder. Also should mention that it doesn't really do as much for me as the LPO one, for whatever reason. Just kinda boring. Poco allegretto is good; retaining its ambiguity but with more colour and warmth. Sometimes. Then it disappears for a moment and you're like, whoa, why is this so dark suddenly? And then comes back like nothing happened. It's almost fun, inasmuch as that adjective can apply to this movement. With the finale I expected more power than LPO but perhaps less coherence. I was surprised to find, if anything, less power—it's louder, the accents are harsher, but it doesn't get moving nearly as well. The second theme, however, is near-perfect. I dunno, Gene has a way with that theme. Otherwise there are only a few moments in the main body of the movement that approach the LPO recording. Ending has the same conception, which clearly dated back at least this far (possibly as far back as his first recording in 1938, which however I have no interest in hearing at this stage).

Not bad, but overall, it seems received wisdom had the right idea...

01. Intentionally Left Blank
02 (tie). Walter/Columbia
02 (tie). Jochum/LPO
03. Kertész
04. Abbado
05. Mackerras
06. Wand/NDR (RCA)
07. Kubelik
08. Jochum/BPO
09. Karajan/Vienna (Decca)
10. Szell
11. Harding

[amw]

I didn't look for the Opus Kura issue, which may or may not have better sound quality; it's 1936 mono, though, I'm not expecting any miracles. Walter/Vienna may be overall the fastest performance of the 3rd (despite the faster finale in the NYPO version). With the repeat, the first movement would come in at around 11:35 (8:48 as it is). Certainly, this is a driven performance. But it does not feel rushed in any way—in fact the tempi seem close to ideal, and I presume would have been mainstream at the time. I've heard better first movements, but not many of them: possibly the Columbia first movement is more moving, but Walter's sense of rhythm seems to be stronger here than in his late recording, and the VPO is, of course, a much better orchestra.

The outstanding quality of this performance I think is the naturalness of its phrasing, a quality akin to Kertész and very few others (maybe Szell?). This prevents the slow movement from feeling rushed despite its rapid tempo (7:33—the fastest so far, displacing Wand, I think), while granting it the impassioned feeling of the first movement not compromised by its many changes of mood. The third movement is excellent, occupying an ideal mezza voce (neither spiderweb fairy music, nor passionate romantic groaning) with a strong dance feeling. That feeling is in itself what contributes to its ambivalence, rather than any "interpretation": the passionate main theme juxtaposed with the light-footed rhythms. It occurs to me actually that this is one of the least "interpreted", most purely Brahmsian performances of the symphony. The finale, like the late recording, establishes its power and energy from the very beginning rather than waiting for the first outburst. A slight slowdown at the start of the second theme is in bad taste, but the theme is well delivered in itself (perhaps not quite to a Jochum/Mackerras standard, though) and disintegrates into violence quite convincingly. Overall, this is an incredibly exciting performance, and not in the way the NYPO performance is exciting (i.e. the "is the orchestra going to be able to hold together?" kind of excitement); close to ideal in tempo and not letting up until the very end, when the chorale seems to appear from another world to quell the music's disturbed heart. In other words it's like the Columbia performance except better (though with some really obvious intonation lapses).

This recording I think comes about as close as possible to hearing the symphony conducted by Brahms himself. (Though he probably wouldn't have left out the repeat.)



Re whoever said Levine was slow... yeah he is kinda slow. The Andante takes 9:40, the Poco allegretto 7:06. The first movement is only a bit slower than average, but due to a kind of rhythmic lack of incisiveness it sounds slow. (Finale is average though at 8:46, we'll see what that's like when we get there.) This has a kind of Karajanish smoothness and classicism, though in spite of its autumnal trappings the first movement still has that undercurrent of passion and rage that is essential to a good performance. When this undercurrent has to be brought to the surface, however, as in the development section, it doesn't convince as much; it feels somewhat routine, even. Throughout the first movement I tried to put my finger on what was wrong and at some point I think I realised it was me—this is Brahms very much in the "grand manner", slow and noble and with great beauty of tone rather than much energy, possibly the same reason I didn't respond so well to Kubelik. This grand manner does well suit the end of the first movement, where a slowish coda does not build too much excitement before relaxing into the calm conclusion.

The opening theme of the slow movement sounds almost like a Bach chorale (I'm not sure I mean that in a complimentary way, but other people might). The slow tempo lends the movement a hushed and reverential attitude which does not always mesh well with the moments of darkness and uncertainty. What does work very well is that two-note "theme" that gets bandied about the orchestra at various moments, the high notes glassy and the low ones foreboding. The mid-movement climax is handled well, though perhaps without the, well, grandeur that the "grand manner" seems to require, lmao. I can't shake the impression of the movement as quite Wagnerian, but it's good for a' that. Poco allegretto is probably about as slow as you can pedal the bicycle without falling over—but you notice, whereas you don't notice so much in Abbado's recording. I think the idea is to be very melancholy and everything, but it doesn't work for me; the movement needs enough brightness to create a source of internal tension. The finale is stern and austere, rather than particularly dramatic, and has the sense of an inevitably unfolding tragedy, with the music then continuing past the end to suggest the dawning of a new day. Levine keeps the tempo more or less steady all the way through rather than slowing down for the coda, and he underplays the chorale and final cyclic return just enough that we know this isn't a redemption; it's simply the music being brought full circle. In the end, I liked it more than I was expecting to. Probably more than Kubelik tbh. But Kubelik's Poco allegretto is better and less boring, so, who knows.



Unexpectedly for a modern recording, van Zweden/RFOH leaves out the first movement repeat. No idea why (the CD is only 72 minutes, the repeat wouldn't take it much past 75). Also unexpectedly, this recording doesn't have any of the stiffness I remember from his Bruckner 6—in fact there's almost too much rubato. The rhythmic syncopations and hemiolas throughout the first movement are well brought out with Karajanesque crispness and a similarly Karajanesque lack of significance—actually this reminds me a lot more of Karajan than Levine did. van Zweden, however, is more superficially exciting, bringing the romanticism of the work more to the fore. Also, the Dutch horn players are doing work. (Well, the Bavarians did too, but then I expect it of them I guess... don't think I've heard much from this orchestra.) The slow movement is the most middle-of-the-road recording I've heard yet, not to say average. In too-extreme readings the movement can sound hyperactive, manic-depressive, stolid and reverential or simply incoherent. van Zweden just plays what Brahms wrote, and it seems Brahms knew what he was doing in that regard, because the pastoral/disturbed character certainly comes through without the conductor's interference. My minor quibble is the actual climax of the movement (five rapid first violin notes), which falls completely flat; my major quibble is the failure to sound the depths.

The Poco allegretto follows Jochum/LPO in, I guess, a tradition? of objective, slightly detached readings. It's less to my taste, though well phrased and with a decent sense of mystery; it feels too straightforward (this is a movement that should be anything but). Some tenderness, also, might be appreciated. With two strong finales today, van Zweden was up against a fair bit of competition, so I don't judge him as harshly for a finale that is somewhat flat. It does "go", but it doesn't shatter. It strikes a balance between tragic readings and dramatic stormy ones, but that's not a balance that should be struck; both of those positions work fine, but the intermediate doesn't. That said, principal horn does great with the second theme, adding lots of character; if only the cellos had done the same so it wouldn't sound like two simultaneous interpretations. Oh well. The coda kills momentum immediately, and the sostenuto is a bit more than "un poco", which I suppose is van Zweden's concession to interpretation; it creates the sense of an "epilogue" looking back on the music from a great distance.

As far as the "middle ground" goes, if you have Levine at the more broad/spacious end and Jochum or Wand at the more urgent/driven end of that ground, van Zweden sits pretty much exactly in the middle. Maybe very slightly towards the Levine end, but not significantly. This might be a good first recording for someone exploring Brahms's symphonies due to what could be called its interpretive neutrality, but even so I'd give preference to Kertész, who is only slightly more expensive these days.

(Please remember that the leaderboards reflect my own personal preferences rather than which recordings are "best".)
01. Walter/Vienna
02 (tie). Walter/Columbia
02 (tie). Jochum/LPO
03. Kertész
04. Abbado
05. Mackerras
06. Levine/Vienna
07. Wand/NDR (RCA)
08. Kubelik
09. van Zweden
10. Jochum/BPO
11. Karajan/Vienna (Decca)
12. Szell
13. Harding

[amw]

As usual when recommending historic recordings people only mention the date, not anything that might be more helpful such as a record label or whatever. So I have no idea which Furtwängler/BPO performance this is. From the sound quality I'm guessing 1903 and it's a transfer from wax cylinder. The first movement timing (13:16) is misleading as this is quite the most ferociously driven performance I've heard; I'm guessing he pulls the tempo around massively in all the quiet bits. It's very exciting and emotionally coherent, but perhaps overinterpreted. The andante (on the slow side) is very affectionately done, but at the loss of some character in the more ambivalent, emotionally ambiguous bits—I can see why some claim Furt didn't "get" the symphony, though I think it's more that his nature is to prioritise his own vision over Brahms's. Again, despite its timing (9:43), it doesn't feel particularly slow in the way that Levine/VPO did.

The third movement is actually one of the best readings I've heard, albeit somewhat operatic. The overdramatisation isn't such a bad thing since it is pressed into the service of fundamental ambiguity. I think where this symphony is concerned, my tastes run towards contrast. The finale starts off very slowly for some reason, before breaking out abruptly into standard Furtwänglerian hijinks as soon as the dynamics exceed mezzo-forte. That said, while the tempo pulling was less obnoxious in the first movement, in the finale it's much more obtrusive and robs the music of a lot of intrinsic power. I thought he'd figured this out when he didn't speed up so much during the development section, but as soon as the recap came along, it's suddenly Prestissimo assai con molte note sbagliate until the coda again. The coda itself at least is fairly well done, suspended and emotionally distanced, but without a coherent movement preceding it, not particularly moving. I think this may be my least favourite finale so far. The other three movements are good, but with significant idiosyncrasies. I can't really do much with it unfortunately.



Listening to this partly as a curiosity—I don't think this recording has ever been talked about much on here—and partly out of admiration for the Staatskapelle Dresden woodwinds, whom I've always had a crush on. Conductor I know nothing about.

From the beginning this recording resembled Levine/Vienna so closely I wondered if it had been modelled on it: not only the plush orchestral sound and "grand manner" but even the phrasing and dynamics of the opening theme. I'm not going to A/B them, mind. Perhaps there's a little more surface energy in the development section of the first movement. Perhaps the movement's also lacking that undercurrent of passion—though I would hesitate to call the performance superficial; it's more on the lyrical side, unexpected for a grand-manner performance, but as far as lyrical, unproblematic Brahms goes I certainly prefer it to Karajan. The conducting is honestly nothing special; I'm tempted to say the Staatskapelle more or less carries the recording. Thielemann departs slightly from Levine in the andante, which is warm and lyrical rather than reverent, and again completely lacking in any sort of bittersweetness. Those repeated two-note figures have some of Harding's coldness, but Thielemann doesn't contextualise them well, and they sound unprepared and have no repercussions.

The third movement is slow, but less melancholy than Levine's, which works to its advantage. The slowness doesn't. I think the only slow performance of the movement I've heard that was good was Abbado's. It tends to lose momentum (this one has no dance character whatsoever) though at least here the bittersweetness is brought out—and the reprise unaccountably carries a lot of weight. I also greatly admire how quietly the SD can play when it wants to. The finale follows Levine in being on the slow side, but makes more concessions to drama; that said, the foreboding quiet bits come across much better than the loud energetic bits. As well, slow tempi sort of ruin the second theme, which then becomes too relaxed (Kertész avoided this problem by letting the horn dominate and the dynamics stay loudish). Slightly annoyed that, like Furt, Thielemann plays quiet parts slower than loud parts, though I suppose everyone does and he's just making it noticeable for some reason (or not skilled enough to avoid making it noticeable, either one). Also can't avoid a feeling that everything's a bit too rounded off. Thielemann slows down a fair bit for the coda, which is softly reverential, and therefore misses out on Levine's masterstroke of situating the coda after the end of the drama.

tl;dr I'm a SD fangirl but if you're not, consider getting Levine/Vienna instead of this one >_>



Ah, yes. You can tell it's the NYPO just from the first chord. I've heard some say Walter's middle recording is his best, others say it's neither fish nor fowl nor good red herring when you have the other two. In some respects (apart from the incredibly fast finale) it's a "compromise" between the two—slightly more relaxed than the proud and fiery Vienna reading, slightly more driven than the warm and autumnal Columbia one.

The first thing that struck me when listening to this was the "dark heart" of the first movement, the quiet and brooding passage that leads back into the recapitulation. By comparison with the other two Walters, it seemed glossed over—not as dark as it should have been. The moment passes quickly and leads into a powerful recapitulation, but gave the impression that this is going to be a driven recording without the pride, as it were. The coda is sufficiently ferocious as to almost fall apart, which as I recall is a recurring theme in this recording and its conclusion is hardly soft and redemptive, coming across instead as a moment of exhaustion after the movement is strictly over.

The slow movement seems to me very similar to the Columbia recording, but not quite as involving, somehow. Maybe doesn't have sufficient duality. I might also be getting a little tired of this piece, who knows. Poco allegretto is again quasi-uninterpreted, like the Vienna one, and equally good (and in marginally better sound). Actually maybe Walter's best third movement? I'm not sure. The finale... I think we've been over this. Repeatedly. Basically it's too fast. Also Walter is surprisingly sloppy with the rhythms, having lost some of that 1936 control. It's exciting; a train about to derail, I'm sure, is also exciting. He does get points for a truly superb 2nd theme, though. And those little squealing runs in the flutes and oboes work so well! So I can't punish him too much for it. The coda initially seems like the beginning of a new buildup but gets abruptly derailed into its unearned tranquility (not very tranquil at this tempo, admittedly) and a well-controlled ending. I'd say this is merely very good instead of excellent, and yes, Columbia or Vienna would both be preferable. But that's just me.


(Leaderboards have been reshuffled slightly as I listened again to Kertész and Jochum/LPO. The latter has many more individual moments that I love and is moment for moment more powerful, dramatic, lyrical and whatever. But I can't deny that, somehow, Kertész made the stronger impression after listening. His recording has an "inevitability" Jochum's doesn't reach.)

01. Walter/Vienna
02. Walter/Columbia
03. Kertész
04. Jochum/LPO
05. Abbado
06. Walter/NYPO
07. Mackerras
08. Levine/Vienna
09. Wand/NDR (RCA)
10. Kubelik
11. Thielemann
12. van Zweden
13. Furtwängler/BPO (EMI)
14. Jochum/BPO
15. Karajan/Vienna (Decca)
16. Szell
17. Harding

[Sergeant Rock]

As usual when recommending historic recordings people only mention the date, not anything that might be more helpful such as a record label or whatever. So I have no idea which Furtwängler/BPO performance this is.

It's the '49 (18.12.49). I have it on the ArchipelRecords label.

Sarge

[amw]

Scherchen's recording of this piece is definitely a spacious one, and one that grows more engaging as one gets used to the bad sound and incredibly shaky orchestra. The main exception to that spaciousness is the first movement, where he takes the "con brio" marking literally, as many don't (I'm looking at a couple of 15 minute recordings) and, notably, doesn't slow down at all in the dark/mysterious passage leading into the recap. In fact this is the only recording I've heard where that passage pulses with suppressed energy. It's an interesting effect, though I'm not sure it works. The rest of the movement has a good natural flow, including an exceptionally fine Coda.

The slow movement is quite slow, almost but not quite soporific. (10:25) It possesses great depth of feeling, often attempting to imbue each and every note with some unfathomable and inexpressible significance. What's lacking is long-range planning, so that at times the movement sounds a bit aimless. I think this is over-focus on detail, rather than the speed (another recording I'm planning to audition, Manze/Helsingborg SO, takes 10:18 and has generally been well received—I'll compare when I get to it). In this sense, Scherchen is the anti-Szell, who over-focused on long-range planning at the cost of detail... the problem with Brahms is you need both the focus on detail and the long-range planning. Well, most composers, I suppose. The third movement is very delicate and tender, which is nice, but not exceptional where it comes to exploring the emotional ambiguities. The finale is slow (9:32) and leaden-footed, possibly an acquired taste. I can see it possibly working, but it's just as easily possible to convey heaviness and brusqueness at a quicker tempo that grants the music more movement. Scherchen does not slow down much at all at the Un poco sostenuto, I suppose because the momentum would break down completely if he did. The coda is effectively understated, which I guess is something.

Overall a performance that doesn't hang well together—sorry to whoever recommended it. It seems like the finale often makes or breaks a performance, somehow.



Kempe recorded Brahms 3 twice, once with the BPO and once with the Munich Philharmonic Orchestra. I chose the former at semi-random and have to say, this is pretty much exactly how I like my Brahms. (Apart from the absence of repeats; though, like Walter, he makes it fairly convincing.) The first movement is full of tension and energy, which only make its lyricism more intense. Rhythms have an incisiveness I've rarely heard. Like Scherchen he also doesn't slow down for the dark/mysterious bit in the middle of the first movement in order to give it more potential energy; again, I'm not sure how well it works. Though this is mostly a straight performance of the score there are some accelerandi I personally consider in bad taste, but oh well.

The relaxation at the end of the first movement is incremental, which makes the exhausted ending a bit more conclusive than in cases where the fierceness of the beginning of the coda abruptly dies away. Again, there's a sense of unfinished business, and the andante picks that up, starting intermezzo-like but with the disturbed undercurrents coming to the surface more quickly than in most other recordings. Overall this may be the least settled andante I've heard, whose climax doesn't linger but seems to be pushing forwards before abruptly losing the thread. The third movement is unusually bright and intelligently articulated (both on the small and large scales), dance-like, wearing its emotional vacillations proudly instead of cloaking them in shadows the Abbado way. As with Walter/VPO I think I like it because of how little interpretation there is. The finale is as foreboding as one would wish, though a bit lacking in heft (also I don't really like slowdowns in the second theme). Instead we get an unusual emphasis on all the different contrapuntal lines that run through it, with some really excellent bass sforzandi at various points. The full weight of the orchestra is held in reserve, only appearing in the central climax and right towards the end before the music collapses into the coda—again, an incremental collapse, not sudden, and there is no real slowing of tempo. Exceptional in this recording is the final chorale, which sounds as though it comes from a very great distance, and as though the little violin figures are in fact the "foreground" rather than an accompaniment, watching the distant chorale unfold: an ending that I suppose could be called visionary.

Certainly one of the most engaging performances so far. I'm putting it in the top five; a higher finish isn't out of the question, but I'd have to listen to Munich (and also compare with the Walters).



Continuing my SD kick! This time with Kurt Sanderling, who is notable for having apparently decided "Allegro con brio" actually means "Andante ma non troppo". (10:57 without the repeat) Reportedly, his second recording is even slower. (I'm not sure I will seek that one out.) I don't really see what is gained by taking the first movement so slowly. Almost all of the tension is lost, the rhythms lose a lot of incisiveness despite Sanderling's sharp articulation, and the mysterious retransition no longer comes across as a vast opening out of space. The slow tempo might work better if Sanderling evoked the warm nobility of Kubelik, but instead he seems to be trying for Brahms's Pastoral Symphony, this being a questionable candidate for the position (No. 2 would have worked better). On the plus side, the orchestral playing (and dark-hued sound) is amazing. Though they're maybe holding back a bit in order to fulfil their conductor's wishes? Wishful thinking on my part? The second movement is actually taken at a reasonable tempo (8:54) and continues with the idyllic manner. One thing Sanderling is pretty good at is making the music almost disappear, but again, maybe that's more the Staatskapelle (there were moments like that in Thielemann, too). And as the movement goes on it becomes tinged with sadness, though never working up enough substance to become interesting.

The third movement is melancholy and a bit wallowy, which I suppose you need sometimes >_> For what it is, it is very pleasant, though I found myself wishing for Kempe or Furt's greater ambiguity (among extraverted readings) or Abbado or Mackerras's greater introversion (among melancholy readings). Also I hate to criticise my beloved Staatskapelle but is that Kenny G on the horn in the reprise? The finale begins with an air of suppressed menace that augurs well, and continues with a kind of dramatic nobility—no hysterics here. The tempo feels slowish though it's not really (9:04 is only a bit above average). There is, again, a bit too much tonal beauty, not enough struggle, not enough incisiveness in the attacks, and absolutely none of the uncertainty that is essential to the movement; at the same time, as far as a finale in the "grand manner" goes I suppose it's perfectly good. The question is more, where was this conductor for the first three movements? The coda is hymnlike and softly redemptive, but we can't quite believe there was ever any real danger, so what exactly is being redeemed? (I suppose this is the "Storm" and "Song of Thanksgiving After The Storm" of Brahms's Pastoral.)

I'll grant that slow tempi may be an acquired taste, but for me the killer here is interpretive flatness. (There were many points in the first movement where I just sort of tuned out and had to go back and re-listen to.) Others will disagree. I know it's a very well-regarded Brahms 3 after all.


01. Walter/Vienna
02. Walter/Columbia
03. Kertész
04. Kempe/BPO
05. Jochum/LPO
06. Abbado
07. Walter/NYPO
08. Mackerras
09. Levine/Vienna
10. Wand/NDR (RCA)
11. Kubelik
12. Thielemann
13. van Zweden
14. Furtwängler/BPO (EMI)
15. Scherchen
16. Jochum/BPO
17. Karajan/Vienna (Decca)
18. Szell
19. Harding
20. Sanderling/Dresden

[Jo498]

It's been a long time I listened to it but in my recollection I found the 3rd the weakest of Sanderling's. The others are mostly also slowish and mellow but it works better (or they are not quite that slow and mellow).

Interesting that Walter/NYPO is your least favorite of Walters because as a cycle this one seems to be more highly regarded than the later/earlier ones, and similar for Jochum where I was only faintly aware of the existence of the stereo recording whereas the mono/BPO cycle has been recommended many times.

Did you/do you plan to listen to any of Toscanini's?

[amw]

Interesting that Walter/NYPO is your least favorite of Walters because as a cycle this one seems to be more highly regarded than the later/earlier ones, and similar for Jochum where I was only faintly aware of the existence of the stereo recording whereas the mono/BPO cycle has been recommended many times.

It's possible the NYPO cycle is better overall and No. 3 is simply not its strong point. I haven't heard the other symphonies.

I'm not sure what to make of my response to the Jochum/LPO set—obviously, I grew up with it, so I may like it better than its worth however much I try to be objective. It's not a well regarded cycle as far as I can tell—on here almost nobody likes it, and in reviews it's sometimes considered inferior to his BPO set, and, even when positively reviewed, given second/third/etc place to whatever interpretive extreme the reviewer favours: whether that may be Klemperer, Abbado, Walter, Szell or Gardiner. (Mind, I have not heard Klemps and Gardiner yet, but probably will.) Certainly Jochum is middle-of-the-road, though towards one end of that middle, and therefore will get less attention.

If you ask my recommendations, first choice for a Brahms cycle would be Kertész, and then as supplements if you want a more driven, energetic, emotionally extreme performance, Jochum/LPO, whereas if you want a warmer, more spacious, full-blooded romantic performance, Kubelik. (It's possible one of the Walters or Kempes will become a top recommendation instead, in future.) As far as LPO vs BPO I think the BPO is definitely superior in the 1st symphony and marginally so in the 2nd, but the LPO blows the BPO away in the 3rd and 4th.

Did you/do you plan to listen to any of Toscanini's?

No, not unless recommendations for a specific one are forthcoming. (I may listen to Cantelli, whose interpretation is supposedly a superior paraphrase of Toscanini's, but praise for it is rare and usually qualified.)

I will probably also listen to some or all of these:
Karajan '64, van Beinum, Kempe/Munich, Furtwängler '54, Haitink/BSO, Manze, Klemperer/Philharmonia, Tennstedt, Barbirolli/Vienna, Böhm/Vienna, Gardiner, Alsop, Giulini, Dohnányi/Philharmonia, Reiner
unless I get bored of this comparison, or decide not to, or some other recordings take my fancy instead.

What I'm mostly looking for is a wide range of views about the symphony and how it works and is put together. Even some of the performances I don't rank well have dealt with aspects of the piece in ways I'd never imagined, eg Harding's icy cold Andante, Szell's careful energy rationing and Sanderling's oh-so-dignified and resolutely anti-psychological finale.

[amw]

(this performance also to be found in the EMI/Warner ICON box set)

Cantelli's first movement tempo is fairly broad, which makes me doubtful this is a true Toscanini paraphrase >_>. One thing he's not very interested in is rhythmic ambiguity; though the first phrase of the first movement can't help but be heard as two against three, he always makes clear that two-in-a-bar is the dominant pulse, and enforces it almost metronomically across the movement except in a few places where blurring is unavoidable to Brahms's use of syncopation (even then, the downbeats are always subtly but perceptibly marked—even in the middle of tied notes, or on rests. No idea how he got them to do that). This is a very "Classical" reading but with its own emotional ambiguities; never particularly demonstrative and never feeling particularly happy either. The Philharmonia is darkly coloured, especially in the development section, and the movement feels consistently agitated and unsettled, despite the strong pulse grounding it—the end is the first glimmer of warmth. I'd sometimes wish for a bit more freedom in the phrasing, mind.

The second movement is a true andante, played with a bit more affection, and perhaps a bit less individuality. Cantelli brings close attention to Brahms's colours in this movement, differentiating them in clear blocks (perhaps like a Mondriaan painting instead of the usual hazy wash conductors apply to Brahms). The disturbed central climax convinces, and its ripples radiate outwards quite a distance on either side, so that the music doesn't feel particularly settled for a long time afterwards. This in turn sets up Cantelli's first significant tempo alteration, a big rit. near the end of the movement, which in turn sets up another one at the very end. From there on, Cantelli's metronomic pulse becomes much freer, but the interpretation also loses some of its Classicism. The third movement is an excellent Romantic approach, perhaps somewhat similar to Furtwängler though not quite as subjective (the trio section sounds almost ironic, as though trying to distance itself). The slightly louder and heavier than usual opening of the finale is again more Classical—it's not being set up as a foreboding introduction as some conductors do, but given full weight as the main theme—and the mysterious appearance of the chorale and subsequent violent transition are surgically done. A tense but not heroic second theme is fully in keeping with a Classical approach to the movement, as is the lack of overdramatisation in the closing theme; and thankfully, he keeps the tempi steady, though not so strict as in the first movement. The development section is somewhat lacking in vitality, unfortunately, but it actually doesn't spoil enjoyment too much. The coda seems like the lead-in to a new explosion of violence (like Walter/NYPO) but, less abruptly, develops into a gentle final return that is expressive without profundity. Particularly notable again is the expert handling of orchestral colour.



Having praised Cantelli's use of colour I thought I'd turn next to Mr Colourist himself. This recording is a pleasure to listen to, not only because of the sound quality but also because of the almost perfectly judged placement of instrumental lines so that everything is audible. Reiner's take on the first movement is fairly brisk and no-nonsense, apart from his commitment to bringing out every nuance of Brahms's orchestration, and though he does allow himself much more rhythmic freedom than Cantelli. Reiner is also a classicist as far as structure and affect go, but his take on the movement is much less melancholy (without necessarily being superficial—there's a bit of pain under the lyricism). The second movement is slow (in fact, longer than the first movement, though the first movement exposition repeat is omitted) and "seriously happy"—content without excitement, though with hints of other emotions that occasionally come to the surface. Despite the structural clarity he brought to the first movement, Reiner presents this movement almost as an organic fantasy, though with enough hints of structure to make the blurring of lines at the recapitulation quite satisfying. The emotional weight is delivered very differently, through agogic hesitations, rhythmic control and tempo changes, rather than any use of orchestral power or volume.

The third movement belongs to the category of more objective readings—it is not particularly dance-like and avoids overdramatisation. Certainly more Classical than Cantelli's, but also without his ambiguity. I'm not sure how much I like it—it doesn't have the feather-lightness of Mackerras either, and while it's in the same category as Jochum's second Poco allegretto Jochum possibly managed a little more effect by keeping the music even more restrained. The finale perhaps gains a bit more Romanticism simply by beginning very quietly, though maybe this worked better in performance—and the phrasing of the chorale is much more Classical. As far as finale readings go it is stern and tragic but not wild and dramatic, the performance bringing out a kinship to the Tragic Overture with an atmosphere of extreme foreboding and an optimistic second theme inevitably crushed by uncaring forces. There is a gradual build to a powerful climax at the start of the recapitulation, and my favourite horn section plays an excellent second theme for the combined 20 seconds it gets in the spotlight. The music's energy dissipates incrementally after the return of the second theme, creating the effect of anger ebbing away and a final reconciliation—not as spiritual as the overtly redemptive readings, possibly due to restrained dynamics in the chorale section. I didn't turn off the recording in time and thus heard the opening chords of Beethoven's 1st, which fit perfectly after the end of the Brahms, but even without them one gets the feeling of a resolution that de-problematises a cataclysmic movement, again a pretty common strategy in the classical era (see not only examples that set the finale of a minor-key work in the major, but even more basic ones: e.g. the coda in the first movement of the Eroica, which turns the opening theme—an agent of destabilisation throughout the work—into a perfectly stable and normal eight-bar unit).

Two enjoyable recordings today, though I think I'd have to rate Reiner higher despite his somewhat lacklustre third movement—his recording is cumulatively engaging and presents a valid alternative to the more Romanticised "mainstream" with greater conviction. I probably prefer him to Mackerras though some re-listening may be required eventually. 1 thru 13 are all very close at the moment.

01. Walter/Vienna
02. Walter/Columbia
03. Kertész
04. Kempe/BPO
05. Jochum/LPO
06. Abbado
07. Walter/NYPO
08. Reiner
09. Mackerras
10. Cantelli
11. Levine/Vienna
12. Wand/NDR (RCA)
13. Kubelik
--------
14. Thielemann
15. van Zweden
16. Furtwängler/BPO (EMI)
17. Scherchen
18. Jochum/BPO
19. Karajan/Vienna (Decca)
20. Szell
21. Harding
22. Sanderling/Dresden

[Tonus Peregrinus]

The Third Symphony promptly strikes a heroic note with the announcement of a "motto" theme to be heard recurringly. It is given out in three powerful ascending chords for horns, trumpets, and woodwind. The highest voice, consisting of F, A flat, F, is said to stand for Frei aber froh (free but happy), Brahms having adopted that as a personal slogan. Parenthetically, it might be pointed out that Brahms never married. One analyst discerned "occult dramatic signification" in the way Brahms uses the "motto" device at one point.
The three challenging chords serve to introduce the majestic first sub;ect, chanted by the violins with viola and cello support. The second subject consists of a repeated phrase in pastoral mood first allotted to clarinet and bassoon. At one point the solo oboe is heard uttering the three "motto" notes. In the development section horn and oboe join in another return of the "Frei aber froh" (FAF) motive. The three introductory chords usher in a restatement of earlier material.
Clarinets and bassoon give out the gentle hymn-like opening theme of the Andante movement (C major, 4/4). A resemblance has been noted between this melody and an episode in both the overture and finale of Herold's opera Zampa. The theme is then freely varied.
The third movement (Poco allegretto, C minor, 3/8) replaces the usual scherzo and is more in the style of a romanza in melancholy vein. The movement contains a tender and contemplative melody first assigned to the cellos.
The impassioned and heroic finale (F minor, 2/2) opens with a spectral theme rustling through the strings, "with all the haste of a vision in a dream." Horns and cellos later chant a sturdy song of brighter cast. There follows what amounts to a clash between opposing moods of gloom and jubilation. The gloom vanishes. Presently echoes of the "motto" theme are heard and the strings bring back, in tremolo, what Apthorp called the "ghost" of the chief theme of the first movement.