I never met Seiji Ozawa, either informally or for an interview, and anyway his visits to London were relatively few, invariably with the Boston Symphony (twenty-nine years as music director) or the Vienna Philharmonic, and occasional guesting with the LSO. As a person he gave the impression of being friendly and approachable, and as a musician, however well-rehearsed the performance, there seemed room for spontaneity, of doing something of the moment, which his balletic baton-less conducting style would communicate directly with the orchestra.
This handsomely presented Berlin collection, including repertoire new to Ozawa’s discography, in excellent sound throughout, includes an atmospheric and vivid Richard Strauss Alpine Symphony, fastidiously/picturesquely detailed and sweepingly symphonic – a happening – the orchestra scaling the heights (as it were) and exploring this masterpiece’s nooks and crannies. Berlioz’s Symphonie fantastique is supercharged – daydreaming and darker intimations vying for impassioned disclosure – including a propulsive ‘March to the Scaffold’ (classy brass-playing) and an uninhibited ‘Witches’ Sabbath’. Mahler’s First steals in with the keen anticipation of a new day and a tale to be told, the beginning of an expressive, evocative, and exciting execution that holds the attention by dint of attractive delineations of texture, a sense of occasion, and no suggestion of ennui; throughout, the Berliners play with heightened involvement. As they do in Bruckner Seven (following Nowak’s edition), intensely lyrical, eloquent and inevitable, the slow movement transitionally seamless and sensitively shaped – affecting – then a buoyant Scherzo/songful Trio, and a Finale at once sacred and spirited, on its way to a brass-led higher plane, with a real sense of arrival present in the coda.
Other selections embrace an emotionally high-temperature ‘Prelude and Liebestod’ (Tristan und Isolde) and the rarity that is Hindemith’s Symphonia Serena (1946, for Dallas and Dorati), a fascinating if difficult-to-classify score (neither symphony nor concerto for orchestra if with elements of both, mit Humor, too) that could only be by this (today) sadly underrated creator. It’s four movements are split two each per discs four and five. (The composer himself documented Serena, and there is at least one ‘modern’ version, Blomstedt recording Serena for Decca during his San Francisco tenure.) The remaining Berlin/Ozawa symphonic choices include Haydn 60 (Il Distratto), each of its six incidental-music movements being of interest, especially when lavished with affection, as here, and Tchaikovsky’s adorable First Symphony (Winter Daydreams) is given a poetic and fluid outing, played tenderly and gorgeously, which hits the titular spot to create magical imagery.
There are three Concertos, each worthy of inclusion, Bruch’s G-minor Violin (Pierre Amoyal), Ravel’s G-major Piano (Martha Argerich) and Bartók’s Viola (Wolfram Christ) – all pointing to Ozawa’s distinction as an accompanist and with each soloist being on top form, part of an eighty-three-minute CD that also includes Beethoven’s Leonore Overture No.2, which completes the set’s contents and with which I shall sign off given this Berlin/Ozawa rendition is blackly suspenseful, dramatic, and powerfully optimistic.
By the way, and consistently, applause and between-movement hubbub has been removed in the most professional and non-intrusive way to render each performance, the odd cough aside, as a pristine studio production.
The Blu-ray disc includes (complete) a Bruckner One, Mendelssohn’s Elijah (snippets below), Beethoven’s Choral Fantasy (with Peter Serkin) and an amusing/touching ceremony to induct Ozawa as an Honorary member of the Berliner Philharmoniker (also involving Serkin) to complete a very recommendable, poignant, release. BPHR 240431 (6 CDs & 1 Blu-ray disc).
https://www.berliner-philharmoniker.de/en/news/seiji-ozawa-edition
Ozawa made an honorary member of the Philharmoniker…
https://www.digitalconcerthall.com/en/interview/22406-4