Revisiting a gramophone masterpiece

June 29, 9:37 AMSF Classical Music ExaminerScott Foglesong

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The labels have been releasing a steady stream of Haydn recordings in honor of the 200th anniversary of the beloved Austrian master's death. (Our next official opportunity to celebrate Papa Joe doesn't come until 2032, so carpe diem.)

Amidst the largesse comes a low-priced re-release of Antal Doráti's magisterial traversal of the complete Haydn symphonies on Decca, with the Philharmonia Hungarica, an orchestra originally founded by refugees of the Soviet invasion of Hungary. The 1970s set represents the orchestra's highest achievement -- it disbanded in sad disarray in 2001 after Cold War-inspired government funding evaporated. Faded away into that good night though it may be, the Hungarica left some glorious monuments behind, none more than this gramophone landmark.

Dorati's Haydn symphonies set: new low price, same magnificent achievement

Other complete Haydn symphony series have been begun and mostly abandoned; Adam Fischer completed his, Thomas Fey and the Heidelberger Sinfoniker appear to be chugging along; the Hanover Band got stuck while Christopher Hogwood's posh and pricey set foundered upon the demise of its label and a general lack of enthusiasm for its prissy performances.

After 30-plus years Doráti's set seems stronger than ever, musically and sonically. Integrity, solid musicianship, and common sense thread throughout the 33-CD span. Given the sheer scope of the undertaking, absolute consistency is an unreasonable expectation, but variants from the overall norm are nonetheless few. These are performances you can count on, serving Haydn's limitless fertility from the early symphonies of the 1750s to those blazing masterpieces written for London in the 1790s.

In re-hearing these wonderful renditions, I'm especially taken by the welcome absence of certain mannerisms and practices that one sometimes encounters in "historically informed" performances (HIP), such as:

No aggressive, raspy string playing

I suppose that saw-the-lady-in-half style of string playing was a reaction to charges that early-music groups lacked passion. But one gets tired of those ear-lashing rips after a while. The string players of the Hungarica play with abundant tone and clarity, but without scratching, and with a simple clear vibrato that avoids calling attention to itself. (Many HIP groups play with lovely string tone, needless to say -- but not all.)

No inexplicably jet-propelled tempos

Why, oh why do some HIP groups take off as though engaging their Warp drive? As much as I admire René Jacobs's interpretations, I must say that his tempo for the finale of the "Oxford" symphony borders on the ludicrous. It's so fast the thing really winds up being heard in one (it's in duple meter) and as a result it winds up sounding slower than many other versions, since each measure is heard as a beat. Perhaps not each of Doráti's tempi would be considered absolutely perfect by each and every listener, but there's a fundamental rightness to his choices throughout; on the whole, the tempi do not call attention to themselves, nor do I encounter tempi which impress me as being flat-out wrong.

No grim determination to take every single repeat, no matter what

Such as in the da capo portions of Minuets. On the whole it's a good idea to take exposition repeats, and obviously any repeat which has structural significance must not be missed. But treating repeats as commands chiselled in marble is pedantry, a charge one could never level at Doráti. He tends to take repeats where one expects them, and doesn't allow a movement to overstay its welcome via injudicious repetition.

No blasting, marginally-in-tune brass instruments

Nice solid brass instruments enliven the Hungarica set, but they (and Doráti) know their place in the scheme of things and don't come whooping in like a bunch of factory whistles. They offer richness, support, strength, and muscle where needed without becoming obnoxious.

No poker-faced slow movements

I've lost count of how many times a slow movement has been the sacrificial victim to a HIP group's agenda. Overly fast tempi, strict avoidance of vibrato, and/or a tendency to plow right through every phrase without the slightest breath, are amongst the signatures of such approaches. Happily, such heartless corporate thinking is becoming a thing of the past, but you still hear it sometimes. If Doráti and Co. have an agenda, it is to serve Haydn's music -- with all its lyrical tenderness, warmth, humor, and even occasional tragedy, intact.

No overly invasive continuo playing in the early symphonies, and none later on

Whether or not to use continuo in any of the symphonies is a contested issue. Certain scholars inveigh against it across the board (James Webster), while others use it throughout, mostly featuring harpsichord but shifting to fortepiano for the "London" symphonies (Hanover Band). The great Haydn scholar H.C. Robbins Landon had recommended that continuo be used for the earlier symphonies but not the later ones. That's the approach taken by Doráti and the Hungarica, and it works beautifully, especially given the reserve and good taste shown by the Hungarica's harpsichordist in the earlier symphonies.

No one-player-to-a-part BS

First it was Joshua Rifkin and the St. Matthew Madrigal. Before you could say Jack Robinson, other groups were paring down to the bone and miniaturizing orchestras into string quintets. The Hungarica uses enough folks per part so you always know you're hearing an orchestra, and not a forlorn little group of players huddled in a corner somewhere.

None of the above should be taken to mean that the Doráti set is old-school, big-band Haydn of the Bruno Walter variety (as marvelous as such Haydn can be.) Nor should my remarks be taken as applying indiscriminately across the board to all HIP groups.

But I love the balanced center represented by these Doráti recordings. Care is taken neither to inflate these works to 19th-century proportions nor to shrink them down to Dresden-doll prettiness; they are thoroughly well-informed by Classical era performance practice. Just as an example, consider Symphony No. 20 in C Major, one of those marvelously bright festive jobs that employ trumpets and timpani (think symphonies 48 and 97, or Mozart's Jupiter for that matter). Doráti's outer movements snap, crackle and pop as well as any HIP group's -- actually more so than some -- with just as pungent of brass and clear thwocks on the timpani. In fact, were this to be presented as a present-day performance by a historically-aware modern-instrument band, I wouldn't bat an eye except to remark on what a exceptionally well-blended group it is.

Antal Doráti (1906 - 1988)

If you don't have the Doráti/Philharmonia Hungarica set already, I cannot recommend it highly enough -- especially in this new low-cost incarnation. Alas, H.C. Robbins Landon's original liner notes are not included, but the fundamental part -- the music -- is gloriously intact and just waits to be savored.

Here's how to get it:

• $69.99 from ArkivMusic in the new low-price release. You can get it for $55.99 from Amazon, or for $45.15 as mp3 downloads. $49.99 gets it from iTunes Store in AAC format.
• If you'd rather pay $219.98 for the older release (which includes notes), go ahead.
• Or you could pay a total of $359.92 for the ArkivCD re-releases of the original CD volumes.
• And you can go hunting for vinyl as well, if that's your pleasure.

No matter. Get it, hear it, cherish it -- and marvel at such endlessly fascinating music played with such intelligence, compassion, and musicianship.