Shostakovich [Symphony] Symphonies. ^a London Philharmonic Orchestra; ^b Concertgebouw Orchestra / Bernard Haitink.

Decca Ovation (Mid  price) (CD) 425 063/74-2DM (eleven discs, oas; 65, 76, 68, 76, 74, 79, 73, 62, 61, 64 and 72 minutes: ADD/DDD). Texts and translations included.

425 063-2DM ^a —No. 1 in F minor, Op. 10 (from SXDL7515, 5/81); No. 3 in E flat, "The first of May", Op. 20 (with the London Philharmonic Choir. SXDL7535, 7/82). 425 064-2DM ^a —No. 2 in B, "To October", Op. 14 (London Philharmonic Choir. SXDL7535, 7/82); No. 10 in E minor, Op. 93 (SXL6838, 10/77). 425 065-2DM—No. 4 in C minor, Op. 43 (SXL6927, 11/79) ^a. 425 066-2DM—No. 5 in D minor, Op. 47 (SXDL7551, 12/82) ^b; No. 9 in E flat, Op. 70 (SXDL7515, 5/81) ^a. 425 067-2DM ^b —No. 6 in B minor, Op. 54 (411 939-2DH2, 8/85); No. 12 in D minor, "The year 1917", Op. 112 (SXDL7577, 6/83). 425 068-2DM—No. 7 in C, "Leningrad", Op. 60 (D213D2, 11/80) ^a. 425 069-2DM—No. 15 in A, Op. 141 (SXL6906, 3/79) ^a; From Jewish Folk Poetry, Op. 79 (Elisabeth Soderstrom, sop; Otrun Wenkel, contr; Ryszard Karczykowski, ten. 417 261-2DH, 3/87) ^b. 425 071-2DM—No. 8 in C minor, Op. 65 (SXDL7621, 11/83) ^b. 425 072-2DM—No. 11 in G minor, "The Year 1905", Op. 103 (411 939-2DH2, 8/85) ^b. 425 073-2DM—No. 13 in B flat minor, "Babiy Yar", Op. 113 (Marius Rintzler, bass: Concertgebouw Choir. 417 261-2DH, 3/87) ^b. 425 074-2DM ^b —No. 14, Op. 135 (Julia Varady, sop; Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, bar. SXDL7532, 1/82). Six Marina Tsvetaeva [Poem] Poems, Op. 143 (Ortrun Wenkel. 417 261-2DH, 3/87).

Shostakovich [Symphony] Symphonies. Bratislava Radio Symphony Orchestra / Ladislav Slovak.

Naxos (Super budget price) (CD) 8 550623-33 (eleven discs, oas: 64, 64, 65, 71, 72, 64, 64, 59, 50, 74 and 53 minutes: DDD).

8 550623—No. 1 in F minor, Op. 10; No. 3 in E flat, "The first of May", Op. 20 (with the Slovak Philharmonic Chorus). 8 550624—No. 2 in B, "To October", Op. 14 (Slovak Philharmonic Chorus); No. 15 in A, Op. 141. 8 550625—No. 4 in C minor, Op. 43. 8 550626—No. 6 in B minor, Op. 54; No. 12 in D minor, "The year 1917", Op. 112. 8 550627—No. 7 in C, "Leningrad", Op. 60. 8 550628—No. 8 in C minor, Op. 65. 8 550629—No. 11 in G minor, "The year 1905", Op. 103. 8 550630—No. 13 in B flat minor, "Babiy Yar", Op. 113 (Peter Mikulas, bass: Slovak Philharmonic Chorus). 8 550631—No. 14, Op. 135 (Magdalena Hajossyova, sop; Peter Mikulas). 8 550632—No. 5 in D minor, Op. 47; No. 9 in E flat, Op. 70. 8 550633—No. 10 in E minor, Op. 93.

We used to see Shostakovich's output discussed in terms of public and private utterance. Rigorously 'public' symphonies—giving new life to a monumental form that, in the opinion of Soviet ideologists, had become impossible to cultivate in the capitalist West—were ranged against ineluctably 'private' chamber works, intimate confessionals in which the composer was apt to reveal his secret heart. Paradoxically, despite today's much greater understanding of the symphonies' own allusive dimension, there have I think been few wholly successful recordings in recent years. As Western LPs of the 1960s and 1970s from conductors like Ormandy, Previn and Berglund have disappeared from the catalogue, so the more demonstrative Soviet tradition has splintered. Mariss Jansons keeps up the cracking pace, if not the searing intensity of feeling characteristic of Mravinsky and the much-mourned Kondrashin set (5/89—nla), but Rostropovich, in the studio, has softened the contours of his always subjective approach, while Maxim Shostakovich offers readings of perplexing straightforwardness. The ur-Russians are currently best represented by Rozhdestvensky, whose sometimes crudely recorded Olympia series now faces a challenge on two fronts.

The first complete Western cycle, that of Bernard Haitink, returns to the lists at mid-price Decca having jettisoned a few minor works and decoupled several major ones. No doubt the old pairing of Symphonies Nos. 2 and 3 was useful for aficionados procuring the bulk of their cycle elsewhere, but it is hard to argue with the new presentation when it includes modern annotations (most contributed by Timothy Day) and full recording data. The Naxos recordings, in the super-bargain category, are not directly competitive. There is some evidence that Slovak has thought afresh about matters of articulation, about tempo relationships and the balance between sections. Unfortunately, given an under-strength orchestra and limited rehearsal time, there is also a feeling of ploughing dutifully through the notes. The studio ambience produces a confining, one-dimensional effect despite the artificial echo at times rather obviously applied to the bigger works. There is also some spotlighting.

Concerned for tradition, and with the need to challenge it, the young Shostakovich could be classical and modern, polemical and prankish by turns. Haitink, not entirely po-faced, turns in a thoroughly decent account of the First Symphony, missing just a little of the element of pastiche. The recoupling with the Third does strike sparks, the language of the later music variously foreshadowed in divergent contexts. Slovak's similar pairing inevitably sounds rougher but he has the measure of both works (despite obvious technical shortcomings in the later stages of No. 3). In the Fourth Symphony, Haitink offers no stupendous revelations, content to bring out the dignity of the writing in a piece where we have come to expect something more sensational, less perfectly controlled. Even the hurtling moto perpetuo fugato passage for strings which triggers the main climax of the first movement seems just a little studied. Slovak's performance has been going well (if steadily) up to this point, with some splendidly characterful woodwind playing from 13'54", properly marcato as the score requires. Alas, that crucial fugato section is audibly pasted in. There is a crude edit at 15'36", and at 17'31", the point at which the fugal texture is hit by galloping percussion, the crucial note is lost, making nonsense of the music! Haitink has no such fault lines his outer movements are helpfully split, by additional cues—but his literalness and sobriety fall short of the ideal, as, marginally, does the playing. It is worth paying extra for Jarvi's emotional candour (Chandos).

Haitink's Gramophone Award-winning Fifth deeply considered and almost indecently well-upholstered, is not easy to assess. Originally greeted with extreme reverence in these pages—its release followed hard on the heels of the publication of Testimony which surely influenced the critical response—it is an earnest attempt to make structural sense of the music's grand symphonic aspirations. It is only because the orchestral playing is generally so immaculate that one registers the curious glitch 2'13" into the Largo. That movement is generally less affecting than it can be, yet the preceding Allegretto is triumphantly brought off as a heavy-footed Mahlerian Landler. Then again, the first movement's long-limbed second subject chugs along reluctantly, dourly unphrased, with none of the easeful balm to be found in Slovak's, let alone Previn's 1965 account on RCA. That represents a fair bargain still if you can take the closing stages of the finale done in all innocence as an upbeat Tchaikovskian dash to the finishing line, the LSO string tone remains a marvel. Haitink's Fifth is now generously paired with his solid, untrivial but scarcely earth-shattering Ninth; Slovak, similarly coupled, may have some original ideas for this work, but his orchestra, plain embarrassing at times in the Fifth, is illto bring them off. DJF thought more highly of the previous Naxos issue under Rahbari. With the deletion of Kondrashin's uniquely angry reading (Le Chant du Monde, 5/89)—how fascinating it would be to hear again Koussevitzky's pioneering account of this music—readers should perhaps opt for Rozhdestvensky; his coupling is yet another Fifth: differently well-intentioned, notably unsvelte and not at all like Haitink's.

Despite palpably honest intentions, Slovak's Sixth and Twelfth are vitiated by undemourished string tone and mistimed and/or ill-tuned wind entries. His slow tempo for the tragic Largo of No. 6 would be difficult for any orchestra to sustain. Haitink's identical coupling is characterized by playing of predictable gravitas and tonal splendour. Indeed, this Twelfth could be seen as the 'best' modern version—it's not as fiery and intense as Mravinsky's live taping but many will count that a blessing in a work that no amount of revisionist decoding will transmute into gold. The Leningrad is another matter. Rightly praised for its symphonic integrity and splendid sound, Haitink's nobilmente reappraisal is now a much cheaper option than Bernstein's two-disc epic on DG, though some will respond more favourably to the raw authenticity of Rozhdestvensky. Among recent recordings of the Eighth, Haitink's stoical view is highly impressive, though strikingly less varied in mood than Previn's old LP (HMV 10/73—nla) and much less urgent than Kondrashin's. Curiously, the finale is mis-cued. If you can accept far greater technical flaws Mravinsky's live recording is in a different league offering electrifying music-making of a kind seldom if ever heard from Western orchestras and one fears, shortly to become a thing of the past in the new Russia. Speeds are generally much faster; the woodwind tear into their phrases like scalded cats, and the string sound is inimitably intense, big but never bland.

The Tenth has always seemed less dependent on a conductor steeped in the Russian tradition, and the only drawback of Haitink's well-played well-recorded account is his unsubtle, over-confident tone in the enigmatic third movement Allegretto. There is real demonic abandon in the scherzo. Slovak's first movement is very respectable, at least until the patchy central climax which includes another damaging editing fault at 11'14" followed by some unconvincing shifts of perspective. There are further mishaps in the scherzo, and the cruelly exposed string lines of the Allegretto are poorly executed. This cannot be considered a realistic option. Even the finale is insipid, though the DSCH motto comes through loud and clear and in tune at the close. Of the two mid-price alternatives worthy of consideration by the non-specialist, Karajan (DG) offers no makeweight and Previn (EMI) has only an irrelevant Kije. Haitink offers a carefully prepared account of No. 2, where the choral contribution has the odd awkward moment but the overall effect is very arresting. His Eleventh too has such weight and precision that his customary detachment is mostly less noticeable than his phenomenal control.

Haitink's Thirteenth boasts another of Decca's huge, reverberant recordings, here of such 'cinematic' brilliance and range that it threatens to dwarf the music-making. While chorus and orchestra are on terrific form, even this monolithic work ideally requires greater flexibility and plasticity than the conductor seems willing to provide. The soloist, Marius Rintzler, would seem to be at one with Haitink's brooding approach, eschewing the expressive variety of Peter Mikulas (on Slovak's otherwise small-scale account) to concentrate on even voice production. Sample any of Kondrashin's tapings—Russian Disc have just released a recording of the second of his truly historic premiere performances ((CD) RDCD11 191)—and you find another dimension. Haitink has no peer in the currently depleted lists; and Slovak has no texts.

As one of the first of Shostakovich's late scores to be taken seriously in the West, it is odd that the Fourteenth should have been so poorly represented in the CD catalogue. The definitive Melodiya performances by Barshai (3/71) and Rostropovich (12/75) have long gone, and I never felt that Haitink's polyglot alternative (not quite that authorized by the composer, incidentally) represented a viable solution—too much vital and specific tone colour is lost along with the original note-values. To make matters worse, Fischer-Dieskau is in hectoring mode and both soloists' proximity to the microphones makes for uncomfortable listening, though the orchestral contribution is excellent. Rather than choosing between off-form Rozhdestvensky and unusually well-prepared Slovak—both come without the indispensable texts—I look forward to the return of Bernstein's underrated version in Sony Classical's Royal Edition, a more economical option than Jarvi on DG (to be reviewed). Haitink's Fifteenth has always been highly regarded, despite some less than needle-sharp contributions from the percussion where it matters most. At medium price, and with a rather high-level transfer of its coupling (whose historical significance is ably outlined in Andrew Huth's note), this merits a place at or near the top of anyone's list. The Naxos performance is not bad but sounds very tame by comparison.

To sum up: Slovak's recordings are mostly adequate, given their modest asking price, and Haitink's set, superbly engineered, is nothing if not reliable. Rozhdestvensky will still be preferred by those who seek in this music a certain irony, volatility and, perhaps, a degree of truth-telling specificity which Haitink's more conventional preoccupation with form, structure and beauty of sound is not designed to elucidate. Nevertheless, for those who prize technical finesse over raw passion, Haitink remains a plausible first choice. These are endlessly fascinating, endlessly equivocal works.

DSG