Released concurrently as this title, http://www.colinscolumn.com/jakub-hrusa-bamberger-symphoniker-record-symphonies-by-brahms-no-2-dvorak-no-7-for-tudor/, this joint-final issue includes a spacious Brahms One, more lyrical than dramatic if with plenty of incident, as well as a sure sense of direction, Hrůša marshalling his Bamberg forces with distinction and detail. In the first movement, following a reasonably arresting introduction, he returns to the exposition with some force (although on this occasion the repetition seems unneeded, the meat of the movement in this reading lies in how the music develops, with intensity and suspense. The middle movements are shapely and expressive, with a fine violin solo in the slow one, and if the Finale is perhaps less than hard-won, making the coda less than unifying in its triumph (and with slight deviations of tempo), it’s a consistently considered and dedicated performance.
For me, Dvořák Six is Rafael Kubelik’s Berlin recording for DG, https://www.discogs.com/release/9323805-Anton%C3%ADn-Dvo%C5%99%C3%A1k-Rafael-Kubelik-Berliner-Philharmoniker-Symphonie-Nr-6/image/SW1hZ2U6MjU1NDQwOTA=; for others it’s his Bavarian Radio taping on Orfeo. (Other recommendable accounts are of course available.) Hrůša is impressive, giving the music wings, beauty, fire and athletic buoyancy; mystery too in the first movement if not the exposition repeat, surprisingly, even if the composer apparently later crossed through the lead-back bars and repeat mark. Hrůša lets the music – a wonderful score, always fresh – sing and dance, and also brings trenchancy to it without harming sunshine, lilt and eloquence.
Also included are eight of Brahms’s twenty-one Hungarian Dances (piano/four hands), the three that the composer orchestrated and the five by Dvořák in stylish and (mercifully) unexaggerated renditions, recorded, like the Symphonies, with a good mix of warmth and clarity. Tudor 1741 [2 SACDs].