Of all the senior maestros treading the current concert circuit, Lorin Maazel is surely among the most unpredictable and his 1999 series of live performances with the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra (based on Nowak editions) has in some respects confounded my expectations. What were those expectations? In the main, a keen ear for detail, excellent execution and moments of visceral excitement, a warm projection of Bruckner’s melodic lines and an understanding of the music’s structure—in other words an intelligent, comprehensive hold on what the music is about without necessarily plumbing its depths or courting dangerous extremes. Well, I was wrong about the depths and the danger; all the other plus-points remain much as I expected them to be.
Over the years Maazel’s approach to Bruckner has broadened considerably. This 1999 version of the Third has the advantage of bold and sonorous Bavarian brass and, in the Adagio, some extremely beautiful string playing. The 1889 Nowak score is used, which makes for a more concise finale. Maazel’s approach to that finale is among the performance’s high-points, with a lilting account of the polka-style second subject and especially strong advocacy of the ingenious episode soon afterwards where echoing strings and brass conjure the acoustic of some vast cathedral.
Mention of cathedral helps identify precisely where Maazel challenges those dusty old preconceptions, namely, and in spite of some very slow tempi, by taking Bruckner out of his churchly comfort zone and treating his symphonies much as he might the symphonies of Tchaikovsky, Schumann, Brahms, even at times Mahler. This trend is especially noticeable in the early works. The busily discursive First Symphony is presented in the ‘Linz’ edition and enjoys a cracking performance of the Scherzo, “No 0” is even more impressive the doggedly slow opening, like a grim march, lends the music a slightly sinister edge and I’ve never heard a more daringly broad account of the lovely Trio.
Maazel’s Bruckner Second is considerably slower than most of his rivals but again the playing carries real conviction, at the start of the finale, for example, which opens delicately but climaxes with considerable power. Then there’s the yearning motif that opens the symphony, and the trumpet that cuts across it, the effect here unusually sombre. Maazel seems to have taken enormous care in his preparation of each work, focusing its singular character as a starting-point: his approach to the Fourth recalling something of Karajan’s grandeur, something of Jochum’s volatility, but the Scherzo, although boldly played by the horns, is a little sedate.<