(++++) FROM ONE MASTER TO ANOTHER

Bruckner: Symphonies Nos. 3-9. NDR Sinfonieorchester (Nos. 3, 7, 8) and Münchner Philharmoniker (Nos. 4, 5, 6, 9) conducted by Günter Wand. Profil. $29.99 (8 CDs).

     Almost as remarkable as the fact that Günter Wand (1912-2002) had a 65-year career as a conductor – a position for which he was almost entirely self-taught – is the fact that Wand did not begin to conduct Bruckner until he was more than 60 years old. That this would lead to performances of great maturity and thoughtfulness is perhaps not surprising – but that Wand’s readings would be so carefully calibrated, so measured, so vivid, while at the same time so diligent in their attention to Bruckner’s scores, is wonderful to discover or, for those already familiar with Wand’s Bruckner recordings, to rediscover. Profil’s inexpensive (and, to be honest, inexpensively packaged) re-release of Wand’s later versions of Bruckner’s Symphonies Nos. 3-9 glows with the conductor’s dedication and meticulous attention to detail, and is packed with revelations about the music.

     These were not Wand’s first forays into Bruckner’s symphonies: he had recorded Nos. 1-9 in the 1970s and early 1980s, prior to doing these versions of Nos. 3-9 (unfortunately failing to redo Nos. 1 and 2). Wand was chief conductor of the NDR Sinfonieorchester from 1982, and a frequent guest conductor of the Münchner Philharmoniker, so he knew those orchestras’ capabilities well – and the players knew him and his expectations, too, as is abundantly clear from the precision of their playing and the attention they bring to phrasing, rhythm and sectional balance throughout these readings. The recordings were made over a 15-year time period, from No. 3 in 1985 to Nos. 4 and 8 in 2000; No. 5 dates to 1995, Nos. 6 and 7 to 1999, and No. 9 to 1998. Except for No. 3, these are live recordings – perhaps one reason they all have such a strong feeling of audience connection.

     Every one of these performances has multiple things to recommend it. In No. 3, the initial trumpet fanfare sounds like a call to arms, and the entire work – this is the 1878-1880 version, which is most commonly performed – is remarkably cohesive. Wand excels at this: he paces the symphony, and indeed all these symphonies, with a sense of inevitability that can be hard to come by in Bruckner, whose works can come across with a kind of stop-and-start approach that takes some getting used to and that led to some harsh criticism of the composer in his own time (notably from powerful music critic Eduard Hanslick). Wand was always an advocate of musical originalism, insisting that the score was the ultimate authority over any performance, and his handling of Bruckner’s Third shows just how well that approach can work: the symphony is much more tightly knit in Wand’s reading than it can be in other presentations.

     Symphony No. 4 is large-scale from the start, the first movement building carefully and with increasing strength. The metrical precision is notable, as are the quieter passages, which are relaxed but never static. The quiet portions of the second movement are remarkably effective, and the pizzicato elements are super-clear. The delicacy of the timpani’s emphases is surprising and works well. The third movement really does start by sounding like a call to the hunt, after which Ländler elements come to the fore. Again the pizzicato material is excellent. The Trio is slow and gently swaying, an almost-tipsy country dance with pervasive lyricism before the repeat of the Scherzo brings a conclusion of high drama. In the finale, the extended opening crescendo builds toward intensity mixed with expressiveness. Mood changes seem to flow naturally: the movement has a cohesiveness that overrides its frequent aural and tempo differences. Ebb and flow are nearly constant, but Wand has a clear and coherent sense of how the individual parts fit into the totality. Every resounding tutti comes as a wake-up call to the movement's progress. Then the full-stop pauses provide "thought time" before Bruckner advances the next ideas. As the movement approaches its climax, Wand pulls ever more sound from the orchestra, resulting by the end in a feeling not so much of triumph as of great accomplishment.

     Symphony No. 5 starts to build from the very beginning: this work is hard to sustain through all movements, but Wand manages to do so. Everything here needs to be anticipatory, but still has to make sense in its place. The second movement’s pizzicato delicacy at the start ties well to the opening of the first movement. Wand takes full advantage of the strings' warmth, which is especially impressive in this movement. Then the woodwind-dominated passages two-thirds of the way through provide a particularly welcome pastoral feeling, a sort of gentle relaxation. The third movement, the only one in this symphony without a pizzicato beginning, features excellent contrasts of delicacy and strength; and Wand’s tempos seem to fit this sonata-form movement perfectly. The finale starts very tentatively and thoughtfully, then strides forth confidently. There is high drama starting six minutes in, as the character of the whole movement changes and it starts to build toward its and the entire symphony’s eventual climax. From here the movement strides forward boldly and with growing intensity, its periodic forays into gently flowing lyricism serving to accentuate its growing power. The conclusion, when it arrives, is beautifully proportioned and highly dramatic and convincing.

     Wand also brings his sure sense of flow to Symphony No. 6, a work that gives a lot of conductors – and a lot of audiences – considerable trouble. Wand fits this stepchild of a symphony clearly into the Bruckner canon, managing to find the thematic and rhythmic ways in which it belongs; the ways in which it develops in new directions (a number of the themes are particularly beautiful); and the ways in which it is unique (notably the sonata-form Adagio and the comparatively slow and essentially themeless Scherzo). The deep seriousness of the second movement is notable: the funereal portion (involving the third theme) contrasts especially well with the wistful and wishful initial theme. By its end, the second movement is glowingly evanescent. Then Wand pays special attention to the rhythmic underpinnings that give this Scherzo its unique character. As for the finale, which is smaller-scale but more tightly knit than that of Symphony No. 5, Wand's sensitivity to mood changes comes to the fore: his ability to control and elucidate Bruckner’s opening and closing movements is one of his most-salient characteristics.

     Symphony No. 7 has excellent flow from the start, building solidly for five minutes until the third thematic group's more-flowing nature emerges. The emotional contrasts of this first movement come through with rare clarity. The second movement is very stately and moving: Wand has a true understanding of the indication sehr feierlich (“very solemn”) – and brings forth the movement’s great thematic beauty as well. Wand omits the cymbal clash and triangle at the movement’s climax: some conductors even today continue to consider them inauthentic. The third movement lightens the symphony’s mood significantly, although it is scarcely "light" music. Its rhythmic strength is notable throughout. And Wand handles the fourth movement with more delicacy than is usual in Bruckner, in part by de-emphasizing the percussion. Indeed, Wand downplays percussive elements throughout this reading: this symphony uses very little of it, and Wand minimizes most of what is there. In contrast, Wand highlights the brass elements, which are especially well-done.

     Symphony No. 8, so long that it sprawls over two CDs in this release, can be intimidating on several levels. But Wand quite clearly has no fear of this symphony's size: his pacing is deliberate and very even. The performance uses the controversial Haas mixed edition – issues of editions are very fraught in this symphony. The key for Wand, though, is conviction, and he certainly has it; also cohesiveness, and he has that too – the entire first movement develops with a sense of organic growth. The second movement (the Scherzo) is also large-scale, with a constant feeling of expanding horizons throughout the performance. The very leisurely pace of the Trio creates some respite, as if at a sylvan scene. The third movement starts with great warmth and careful attention to the unusual opening rhythm. Then it builds steadily, as if Wand here reflects Bruckner constructing an edifice: there is a sense of constant growth and spread. The fourth movement provides strong contrast of tempo and intensity, genuinely surprising after the very long post-climactic portion of the Adagio. Expansiveness permeates this performance. There is a sense of organic growth through the movement as well as a joining-together of the whole symphony, as Bruckner gathers themes and rhythms from earlier and reaffirms, joins and expands them. Then the trumpet call halfway through the movement creates an even greater sense of drama, and the following material becomes anticipatory of the movement's eventual climax. There is some meandering after the climactic material, but Wand keeps the movement on track toward a conclusion that is surprisingly compressed, considering the overall length of the symphony.

     Wand’s performance of the three completed movements of Bruckner’s Ninth is truly exceptional. The word misterioso definitely applies at the start of the first movement, which has beautiful flow combined with a sense of inevitability as it moves through differing emotional sectors. Wand very skillfully manages the series of climaxes that build to the eventual highly dramatic one at the movement's end. The second movement’s use of pizzicato has an entirely different effect from its use in Symphony No. 5: here, the technique is a major contributor to a weird "flickering" effect that neatly reflects the misterioso material of the first movement. Then, when the pounding rhythm of this Scherzo appears, Wand has the orchestra hit it very hard, which makes for a very effective differentiation from the quieter sections. The fleet Trio then contrasts strongly with the Scherzo, as it should: Wand has a very sure sense of the differing sound of these parts of the movement. The third movement represents a change of character yet again. It is very beautiful and has a very clear sense of musical flow. The movement goes through a large number of emotions, each of which Wand brings out to good effect. The monumental climax six minutes before the movement's end is absolutely thrilling. The juxtaposed quiet passages that appear afterwards come across as an exhalation of breath, an ebbing of waves of overwhelming emotion that fade gently into peace suffused with warmth and light. A performance this well-thought-out makes it a real shame that the fourth movement of the symphony remained incomplete at Bruckner’s death: all these Wand performances predate more-recent attempts to fine-tune editions of the symphonies, which in the case of the Ninth often means offering some version of the near-complete finale in attempts (some more successful than others) to let audiences hear where Bruckner wanted the symphony to go.

     Bruckner is very well-served by Wand. Unfortunately, Wand is not well-served by Profil. The box of recordings simply places each CD in a flimsy paper (not even cardboard) sleeve. The eight-page booklet contains nothing but the dates of each recording and the list and timings of each movement – nothing at all about either Wand or Bruckner, nothing about the editions used in these performances, nothing really informational at all. And as thin as it is, the booklet is pervaded by errors: for instance, the famous Majestoso designation for the first movement of Symphony No. 6 here appears incorrectly as Maestoso, and the designation for the first movement of No. 7 is given as “Allegro moderat” [sic]. This sloppiness is unbecoming an important label and gives the impression that this re-release is a throwaway, perhaps for listeners for whom Wand is already well-regarded but not for serious Bruckner aficionados in general. If that is the thinking underlying this release, it is badly mistaken: these are excellent, often exceptional performances that may not benefit from the very latest Bruckner scholarship or the most-up-to-date sonic capabilities, but that can stand interpretatively with any more-recent release of these specific symphonies. Wand was an exceptional Bruckner conductor who fully deserves to be remembered for the quality with which he conducts this music – not downgraded because of the lesser quality with which his excellent performances are packaged here.