The recent outpouring of Sibelius Third symphonies has shed remarkable light on this seemingly reticent work, from Mustonen’s radically neoclassical rendition (also on Ondine) to Davis’ recent, very Romantic and “hands on” approach (LSO Live). Fine as those versions are, I have to say that in the final analysis Leif Segerstam has them all beat. Indeed, there are no finer performances available of either symphony, and that’s saying a lot–but once you hear this exceptional disc I have little doubt that you will agree. This disc is special.
In the Third Symphony Segerstam finds exactly the right tempo for each movement: a real allegro moderato to start, an andantino con moto (quasi allegretto) in the very difficult-to-judge middle, and a flowing moderato–allegro (ma non tanto) finale. The key here is to balance the composer’s “moderate” injunction with the need to differentiate both tempos and character. Segerstam does just that. His first movement has great thrust and rhythmic snap: note particularly the punchy recapitulation of the second subject, with spiky wind ostinatos and extremely clean timpani. He also doesn’t drag the central movement out to the lengths that Vänskä does, but rather allows us to register the tension created by the games Sibelius plays with phrasing and rhythms of two-versus-three beats to the bar.
The finale has more mystery and lightness in its initial stages than any other version, and when the big tune arrives Segerstam leaves plenty of room to build the closing pages without having to stop the movement dead in its tracks. He’s also obviously given much thought to the problematic endings of both outer movements, and he gives them plenty of time to bring the music to a satisfying halt, even if this means taking additional freedom with the basic tempo. Throughout, the playing of the orchestra is simply gorgeous, with extremely characterful string phrasing, cutting but always well-tuned interjections from the winds, and imposing but never crude brass and timpani. Ensemble balances are simply perfect between sections, and the sonics are warmly natural.
All of these virtues likewise characterize the Fifth Symphony, which receives easily the most satisfying performance of the finale on disc. In the first movement Segerstam executes a seamless transition between its two big halves, wisely refusing to speed up too soon, and he achieves a brilliantly energetic coda. The central andante, so similar in character (it now seems) to that of the Third Symphony, has more musical muscle than usual without ever turning heavy or dragging, again a function of rhythmic control and textural clarity. And then there’s that finale! The initial pages churn with energy and the grand tune soars aloft on an effortlessly heroic brass ostinato. But the real thrill comes in the final few minutes, which are more powerfully and intelligently built than in any other performance. One huge wave of music follows another until Segerstam releases the tension with a jolt of forward movement that offers a positively physical impact, and not incidentally makes sense of those strange final chords (played a touch more quickly than usual, I might add).
We should expect that this orchestra would know this music better than most, and that the players can toss off these works in their collective sleep if they so choose. That’s why it’s all the more special that familiarity has not bred contempt, and that they offer these two symphonies to us as if discovering the music for the first time in terms of spontaneity and freshness, even as the technical standards bespeak long familiarity. To Segerstam must go the credit for finding interpretive points that are unique to his own view of the music and that also clearly serve the composer’s intentions, never sounding unidiomatic or self-indulgent. There are many first-rate recordings of these symphonies, the Fifth especially, but if I had to dump all of those others I could very easily live with this one and be fully satisfied. It’s that good. [9/8/2004]
