Bruckner from the Archives, Volume 1

The first of two releases on the Somm label this weekend (in their “Ariadne’ series), this is also the first in their stunning ongoing Bruckner From the Archives series. It seems to have a twofold effect: the documentary value is obvious, but the release of lesser-known works (for example, the March found here) offers a wide appreciation of Bruckner's output; and, as a result of this, a greater appreciation of the heights he attained in his later symphonies.

The Symphony in F-Minor (WAB 99, 1863) is Bruckner's first full-scale symphony. It seems odd to realise that Brickner indicates repeated expositions in both first and las movement's, something which feels rather formulaic in light of the later mature symphonies. And yet, for all that one can hear influences ere (particularly Schumann, but others have found Mendelssohn, too, and occasionally I hear Weber), the rigour still points towards Bruckner, if shorn of some of his characteristic signatures. This performance is.live air check from June 11, 1974 by the Bruckner Orchestra, Linz under Kurt Wöss, and the score used is the 1863 version, in Novak's edition. It is.fine performance, contusing themes given with affection but no loss of ongoing pulse. Here's the first movement:

The slow movement is an Andante molto. Bruckner signatures are clearer here, if without the exalted, almost holy stasis of the late Adagios. is though a gorgeous moment; again I hear much Schumann in the background. All credit to the Bruckner Orchestra for the energy of the firs, the sense of comparative repose in the second, and for their excellent performance under Wöss:

The wind in the movement are particularly lovely in this recording.

The Scherzo has a real dance-like aspect to it, rhythmically emphatic here. the Bruckner Orchestra Linz is fabulous: there is no loss of violin tone in the upper registers, and wind act as if thy are playing chamber music. It really is a delight, while Wöss ensures real rhythmic pining from his strings:

No doubting the stormy skies in the finale, contrasted with a lyricism the all soon see flowering in the great, late symphonies. But this is no work of juvenilia: Bruckner was around 40 when he wore it, and Vöss and forces persuade me at least that it can stand firmly on its on as a symphonic statement:

The March in C Minor is rare indeed, originally released together with the equally rare Three Pieces for Orchestra (1862) on Family Records SFLP-541 is performed by the Vienna Symphony Orchestra under Hans Weisbach. No doubting it is a march; and, often, no doubting it is Bruckner either:

Amazing to think that March is just one year before the symphony. The Three Pieces for Orchestra, WAB 97, like the March, date from 1862. While the recording might not be the finest, it is good to hear them: this is a 1944 wartime recording which was originally claimed to be by the "Hamburg New Symphony Orchestra". the recording was actually made for Reichs-Rundfunk-Gesellschaft which, as the notes point out, "serves as a reminder of the misappropriation and exploitation of Bruckner's music by the propaganda arms of the Nazi regime".

The second piece opens aspiringly, and the repeated high string words leading to an arrival point soon thereafter do speak of later Bruckner (or maybe "hint at" is more accurate!):

The Psalm 112 seting (WAB 35, 1863) s heard in a tremendous performance under Henry Swoboda: the Wiener Akademie Kammerchor is in full voice The piece immediately followed on from the F-Minor Symphony. While not Bruckner's finest work (some of the ongoing imitations see forced), it is certainly stirring, particularly the later choral assertions of "Alleluia" in alternation with he fervent orchestra:

The second disc opens with the little-known Overture in G minor, WAB 93 (revised 1863). The large-scale slow introduction actually does sound vey much like Bruckner. This is a WDR Aircheck of 1959: Dean Dixon conducted the WDR Symphony orchestra, Cologne. The solo wind sections sound perfectly characeristic:

We met the First Symphony, again in the Linz version (there is also an 1891 Vienna revision), in the Capriccio cycle Bruckner Orchestra Linz/Poschner) here. Here is a distinguished historical performance, the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra under Eugene Jochum, one of the great Brucknerians, on New Year's Day, 1959

This is a committed, somewhat fierce performance of the first movement, underlined by the slightly raw recording. The is no doubt we are now in Bruckner territory; and some way from the F-Minor Symphony of the first disc. Certainly the way the slow movement, an Adagio, “breathes” puts us in true Bruckner mode, and Jochum tracks the movement perfectly (remember his performance predates that of his complete cycle with teh Berliner Philharmoniker). There is the most glorious moment of quiet woodwind against mobile strings around 6"46; and listen to how the lower stings carry menace in the following passages. terrific playing, terrific interpretation from Jochim. Notice, too, how much detail is audible in this transfer. The final glowing statement is magnificent, and just listen to how the upper strings maintain both tuning and sheen before melding with silvery woodwinds:

The Scherzo hammers its opening home as if suddenly we are in mature Bruckner; perhaps the quiet response corrects us as to territory, but there is no doubting this is a major work, in Jochum's hands. For all of Poschner's modern recording, there is a drive to Jochum that just carries the listener away. Jochum accords great import to the Trio, too. This is no mere contrasting Pastoralism, it carries hints of deeper stirrings in the bass-end machinations:

The finale has plenty of energy and is positively alight when it comes to the perorations. Jochum ensures contests are marked; rightly so (orchestral terracing in Bruckner always seems very related to the workings of an organ):

It is daring, perhaps, to end the whole product with the earliest wok here, the String Quartet of 1862 (WAB 111), performed by th Koeckert Quartet (Rudolf Koeckert, Will Buchner, violins; Oskar Riedl, viola; Josef Mer, cello). The piece is not long, and sits in the tradition of Haydn while carrying a Romantic-leaning fingerprint. One has to strain to har any "Bruckner proper," but the chromatic language is certainly Romantic. the piece was preserved in a "Kitzler Study Book,"the name referring to Bruckner's teacher, Otto Kitzler (1834-1913). he performance here was from an edition taken from the MS by Koeckert (it was not actually published until later, 1955; this performance is March 1955). Here's the first movement :

The slow movement is impassioned, decidedly and generally straightforwardly tonal, and performed with real sensitivity here:

The Scherzo's marking is Presto, and although this feels more like an Allegro molto, it scampers nicely, while the Two dances lightly (with little slowing of pulse):

Some of the finale does rather have the feeling of a counterpoint exercise, but the piece is most definitely worth hearing and the performance has real documentary value.

It is worth noting that both discs are well programmed. Each makes for a satisfying whole in itself, but the wo complement each other also. So, the first presents a symphony supplemented by mini orchestral pieces and erounded off by an alternative scoring (choir and orchestra for the Psalm); the second also presents a symphony, here complemented by a chamber work (the Sting Quartet) and preceded by an Overure. Cleverly conceived, and eminently rewarding. The programming also enables each piece to be heard in its vest light (the inclusion of Psalm 112 as glowing choral peroration to disc one, for example).

Terrific stuff.

The twofer is viable from Amazon here. Streaming below: