Sir John Eliot Gardiner’s live Brahms symphony cycle reaches                  its penultimate stage and once again he illuminates the symphony                  in question with interesting and relevant choral music. Previous                  issues in the series have included some vocal music by contemporaries                  or past masters that Brahms admired but on this occasion Brahms                  has sole billing. All the music has its own value and interest                  but it’s especially pertinent to preface the symphony with 
Gesang                  der Parzen, the piece that bears the immediately previous                  opus number in the Brahms catalogue. It’s also an unusual                  step to follow the symphony with a choral item - which I presume                  was also done in the live concerts - but I find the lovely 
Nänie complements                  the symphony very successfully and its inclusion sustains the                  calm mood with which the symphony comes to an end. In the notes,                  which once again take the form of an extremely enlightening discussion                  between Sir John and the composer, Hugh Wood, Gardiner makes                  it clear that he constructed a deliberate sequence in which the                  Third Symphony was surrounded by 
Gesang der Parzen and 
Nänie.                  It’s a typically stimulating, not to say audacious juxtaposition                  and I find that it works well.                   
                    In these two choral works it was instructive to compare Gardiner’s                  versions with the fine recordings by Claudio Abbado (DG 435 791-2)                  made between 1989 and 1991. Of course, the performances are radically                  different in that Abbado uses a much larger choir and the Berlin                  Philharmoniker. They differ also in that, generally speaking,                  Abbado’s treatment of both pieces is more spacious than                  Gardiner’s. I’ve loved 
Nänie ever since                  I first had the chance to sing in performances of it in 1997.                  As it says in the notes to this release, it’s probably                  the most radiant thing that Brahms ever wrote. I’m not                  sure that Gardiner quite conveys that radiance. It’s a                  fine performance, to be sure, and beautifully sung and played                  but, for me, Abbado, with his slightly greater sense of space,                  conveys the essence of the piece even more successfully. And                  at the marvellous moment, marked 
Più sostenuto,                  where the choir sings in unison “Aber sie steigt aus dem                  Meer mit allen Töchtern des Nereus” (‘But she                  rises from the sea with all the daughters of Nereus’) (Track                  10, 5:05 in the SDG recording) Gardiner is impressive but Abbado                  conveys even more nobility. When I listen to this Gardiner performance                  I think that 
Nänie is a fine work; when I listen                  to Abbado I know it’s a 
wonderful work.                   
                  When it comes to 
Gesang der Parzen, however, it’s                  a rather different story - though again one is comparing two                  fine accounts. Here Gardiner’s lean muscularity is right                  on the money and he delivers a performance that is dramatic and                  often fiery. The vivid colourings generated by his fine orchestra                  are much to be savoured here. And when the final stanza of Goethe’s                  words - beginning at “So sangen die Parzen” - is                  reached (track 5, 9:32) Gardiner and his forces realise quite                  marvellously the spectral nature of the music. Abbado, by contrast,                  is softer and more mysterious in this passage. Both performances                  are very impressive in their different ways but I’m very                  excited by Gardiner’s reading.                     
                  The other choral works, whilst less substantial, have much to                  offer. In particular 
Es tönt ein voller Harfenklang is                  quite lovely. And what an inspired accompaniment Brahms provides,                  choosing the imaginative combination of a harp - suggested by                  the text, of course - and a solo horn. The performance is beautiful.                  Though none of the music on this disc is by other composers,                  one of Brahms’s admired forebears gets a significant look-in                  with 
Einförmig ist der Liebe Gram in which Brahms                  takes thematic material from ‘Der Leiermann’, the                  concluding song from Schubert’s 
Winterreise and                  weaves it into an ingenious and very effective six-part canon                  for unaccompanied female choir.                   
                  I think the performance of the Third Symphony may be quite controversial                  and I would encourage listeners who may be startled by it to                  persevere. It was quite a culture shock to come to this performance                  so soon after 
appraising Sir                  Simon Rattle’s new cycle of the Brahms symphonies. However,                  beyond noting in passing that Sir Simon’s performance of                  this symphony lasts for 39:12 compared with Sir John’s                  33:30, I haven’t made any comparisons whatsoever. The conceptions                  of each performance, to say nothing of the respective forces                  involved, would render any such comparisons meaningless and invidious;                  both have their own validity. As with the previous issues in                  this series, the most valid comparison of which I can think is                  with the performance contained in the 1997 Telarc cycle by Sir                  Charles Mackerras, which, incidentally, takes 35:34.                     
                  It’s helpful, I think, to read the notes prior to listening                  - something that I failed to do until after my first hearing                  of the symphony! - for then one gets a good idea of how Gardiner                  views the music. He sees the Third as “a symphony of protest                  and acquiescence”, believing that in it “Brahms,                  at the age of fifty, shakes his fist at the march of time and                  then resigns himself to its inevitability.” That’s                  a most interesting stance and I’ve no doubt that it explains                  in particular Gardiner’s way with the first movement. I’d                  describe his account of that movement as bracing and invigorating                  - it’s certainly one of the fleetest I’ve ever heard.                  It’s interesting to note that Gardiner comments that he                  believes that fairly consistent adherence to one basic tempo                  for much of the movement is helpful in helping the music cohere “and                  towards giving it a light-footed grace.” So, having launched                  the movement, Gardiner doesn’t relax the basic pulse very                  much at all, whereas Mackerras, whose core speed is not that                  much different, is more inclined to observe “traditional” rubato.                  Gardiner’s performance has a bit more edge and quite a                  lot more drive. I’ll admit I found his approach a bit disconcerting                  at first but, with repeated listening, I’ve come to relish                  the directness.                   
                  He gives a more “conventional” account of II in terms                  of pacing and in this movement the fresh, unvarnished colours                  of his orchestra, the woodwinds in particular, pay dividends.                  Overall, Gardiner is relaxed and nicely poised in this movement                  and Mackerras is not dissimilar in his view.                   
                  There’s a nice lyrical flow in III. Gardiner allows his                  players to phrase expressively but never at the risk of heaviness.                  As in the previous movements, the clarity of texture is admirable.                  Some may be surprised by the way in which Gardiner moves the                  music forward in the brief passage from 1:55 to 2:19 and again                  when this material is reprised. Mackerras adopts much more traditional                  pacing here.                   
                    In the finale Gardiner achieves a real eruption of energy at                  0:42 and thereafter the movement proceeds at an exhilarating                  pace until around 5:45 when Brahms begins to wind the music down                  to its luminous, accepting conclusion. Mackerras also gives a                  very extrovert account of the main allegro, though his tempo                  is not quite so frenetic. However, the sound that his modern                  instruments produce and the less forward recording means that                  his reading sounds softer grained. When we reach the coda I thought                  at first hearing that Gardiner doesn’t relax sufficiently                  and doesn’t find enough repose in the music. That’s                  a view I’ve modified with repeated listening. Now I feel                  that his treatment of the coda works and, of course, it’s                  at one with his conception of the rest of the movement and, indeed,                  of the symphony as a whole. Mackerras leads a more expansive,                  reflective account of the coda. It’s beautifully delivered                  but I now wonder if it’s not just a little bit 
too slow.                   
                  So Gardiner has given us a very fine Brahms Third. I suspect                  it may divide opinion but I would urge collectors who may find                  it too brisk, especially in the first movement, to suspend judgement                  until they’ve had a chance to listen a few times. This                  is a fresh, vital performance and whilst it’s certainly                  not the only way with the symphony, it’s a way that commands                  respect and which I find refreshing and exciting. And even more                  so than was the case with the two previous volumes in this series                  I’d urge collectors to listen to the disc from start to                  finish in the sequence that Gardiner intended and allow him to                  lead and stimulate your ears. The final instalment in this series,                  containing the Fourth Symphony, is eagerly awaited.                   
                  -- John Quinn, MusicWeb International