A lean and balanced performance
Frans Brüggen (conductor)
Orchestra of the 18th Century
Philips 456 2672
When it comes to choosing a preferred recording of the ‘Scottish’, the field is a healthily competitive one. If you want, for instance, to enjoy it within the context of complete sets of Mendelssohn’s symphonies, Yannick Nézet-séguin’s version with the Chamber Orchestra of Europe and Kurt Masur’s with the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra (which alone includes the early 12 string symphonies) are the strongest options. These are two very different but equally valid interpretations. On single discs, meanwhile, Herbert von Karajan and the Berlin Philharmonic are predictably polished and, more recently, Edward Gardner and the CBSO deliver a fresh and invigorating account.
However, the vote goes to Dutch conductor Frans Brüggen’s 1990 recording with his period-instrument Orchestra of the 18th Century. After Masur’s and Gardner’s more euphonious versions, I initially found the orchestra’s leaner sound a little too spartan. However, repeated listening won me round.
Mendelssohn’s score is revealed here in all its unvarnished truth and, crucially, having first and second violins divided either side of the conductor – something that Gardner, alas, fails to do in his recording – illuminate his genius as a master of polyphony; this is equally apparent in the ‘Italian’ Symphony and a terrific Fingal’s Cave that are also on this disc. I had not appreciated before the importance of the timpani parts in all four movements of the symphony. Here, they are given startling prominence, and the impact of those hard sticks exploding through the orchestral textures is thrilling.
Throughout, Brüggen finely balances Classical restraint and Romantic sentiment. In the long first movement, tumult and reflection are given equal voice. His nicely rustic Scherzo is followed
Brüggen finely balances Classical restraint and Romantic sentiment
by an Adagio which plumbs the depths without cloying, emerging as a dark, occasionally menacing beast. The Finale is all swaggering machismo and the Coda, free of all bombast, a perfectly natural conclusion to Mendelssohn’s Scottish saga. With all great works, it pays to keep things fresh by having more than one recording and returning to each one on regular occasions. As such, I’m not yet ready to abandon entirely my long-treasured Peter Maag former benchmark (see above); but, for now, Brüggen’s sharply etched reading, captured in vivid sound quality, is the one I find yields the most secrets.