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Bruckner - Symphony no.2 (1872 version)

£13.88

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Label: Capriccio

Cat No: C8093

Barcode: 0845221080932

Format: CD

Number of Discs: 1

Genre: Orchestral

Release Date: 2nd February 2024

Works

Bruckner, Anton

Symphony no.2 in C minor (1872 version)

Artists

ORF Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra

Conductor

Markus Poschner

Works

Bruckner, Anton

Symphony no.2 in C minor (1872 version)

Artists

ORF Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra

Conductor

Markus Poschner

About

The most comprehensive Bruckner Symphonies cycle, including all available versions.

Capriccio’s Complete Bruckner Symphonies Edition includes all versions of the symphonies either published or to be published under the auspices of the Austrian National Library and the International Bruckner Society in the Neue Anton Bruckner Gesamtausgabe (The New Anton Bruckner Complete Edition). Bruckner’s Second Symphony is rarely heard in its 1877 version, and it has remained virtually unperformed in the 1872 original version. This is not because of any deficiency in Bruckner's earlier ideas compared with the later alterations. It’s mainly down to habit and convenience, since acquiring new parts and re-learning a score with many detailed differences requires significant extra effort and resources. That’s a pity, because it is well worth discovering the original rawness of Bruckner’s early masterpiece, something rarely heard since its creation, until now.

Sound/Video

Paused

1

1. Allegro. Ziemlich schnell
2

2. Adagio
3

3. Scherzo. Schnell – Trio. Gleiches Tempo
4

4. Finale. Feierlich, etwas bewegt

Europadisc Review

And so it begins. We were wondering how long we could make it into 2024 before tackling this year’s most trailed musical anniversary: Bruckner’s bicentenary. With so many complete and near-complete symphony cycles now jostling for position, the choral works will have to wait a little longer. Instead, this week we focus on the latest instalment of what will be – when it’s finished – one of the most exhaustive Bruckner symphony cycles of all. On the Capriccio label, Munich-born conductor Markus Poschner has been setting down all the acknowledged distinct versions of the composer’s eleven symphonies (the canonic nos. 1–9 plus the D minor ‘Die Nullte’ of 1869 and the early F minor ‘Study Symphony’). This amounts to an impressive 18 works in total, and the project is being shared between Poschner’s own Bruckner Orchestra of Linz and Vienna’s ORF Radio Symphony Orchestra.

Having already released the 1877 revision of the C minor Second Symphony with the Linz band in September 2023, Poschner now teams up with the ORF ensemble to tackle the original 1872 version of the same work. And while some of the recordings in this series, with their bracing speeds in the faster movements, have divided critical opinion, it’s fair to say that this one is a revelation. The 1872 version has been little recorded in the past, partly because it spent many years gathering dust on the shelves of the Austrian National Library. Georg Tintner’s account on Naxos was one of its first outings, but with the benefit of advances in recording technology, a sympathetic recording and some superbly alert playing from the ORF orchestra, Poschner sweeps away even more cobwebs from this neglected gem.

In his detailed booklet notes – one of the many strongpoints of this Capriccio cycle – Paul Hawkshaw stresses the ways in which the original version of the Second provides the prototype for Bruckner’s mature symphonies. The fully worked-out version of sonata form based on three distinct thematic groups, the expansive slow movement built on the alternation of two different subjects (something that was fatally undermined by the cuts in the 1877 version), and the characteristic ‘Bruckner rhythm’ of duplet followed by triplet (heard in dotted guise in the first and last movements): all are present here for the first time. What Poschner and his players bring is an added freshness and buoyancy which is entirely appropriate to these prototypical features before they became set as an archetype (or, indeed, stereotype). And a new, clear-headed assessment of the sources has enabled them to iron out some issues arising from previous recordings of this version.

Seasoned Brucknerians will perhaps be taken aback by the briskness of the first movement. The tempo indication Ziemlich schnell (like its English translation ‘Quite fast’ or the Italian alternative ‘Allegro assai’) can be taken one of two ways: Poschner opts for the more radical. Yet he never skates over details, like the glorious cello melody with wind counter-melodies in the recapitulation. The opening, in which the main theme emerges embryo-like on high cellos in semitone steps against shimmering upper strings, has a sense of urgency in this account. One of the more curmudgeonly critics at the work’s otherwise largely successful first performance in October 1873 negatively highlighted Bruckner’s frequent deployment of rests rather than a more flowing development, leading the Second for many years to be dubbed the ‘Pausensymphonie’ (‘Symphony of Rests’). But Poschner’s consistently invigorating speeds give the lie to this unhappy characterisation, and the forward impetus is hard to resist.

The Adagio, with its glorious hymn-like quality, is one of Bruckner’s loveliest creations, and in its uncut form as played here, complete with the original closing horn solo (beautifully played), it can be enjoyed in its full splendour. It’s taken at a gently flowing speed, the strings radiant, the dynamics acutely observed as they are throughout, without approaching the Andante indication of the 1877 revision. The Scherzo, with its fitful opening motive, is especially characterful, and it’s taken at a gripping pace, repeats and all, yet steadily enough that the Trio, with its gentle viola theme, has a whiff of the Austrian countryside. Returning to the fray, the coda to this movement is always particularly exciting, and this performance, with its glorious timpani thwacks and imperious brass, does not disappoint.

In the Finale, like the first movement, Poschner emphasises energetic punchiness over lyricism. Where this approach pays particular dividends is in the development section, which at a slower pace contains undoubted longueurs. Here the potential pitfalls simply vanish, and one wonders whether Bruckner would have been quite so far-reaching in the cuts of his 1877 revision if he could have heard his modern-day compatriots play his first thoughts so winningly. The reminiscences of earlier movements (very much à la Beethoven’s Ninth) also feel better integrated, less disruptive to the overall flow, in this manner, and the knotty, fractured counterpoints seem to anticipate the last movement of the Fifth Symphony. After one final glance back to the Symphony’s opening, the concluding C major tutti comes with a blaze of glory, rhythmically alert to the very end. If you’ve never heard the 1872 version of the Second before, do try to hear this disc: it deserves a place in every serious Bruckner collection!