DVORAK. Symphony No. 9 in E minor, Op. 95, "From the New World": Othello—Overture, Op. 93. London Symphony Orchestra conducted by Istvan Kertesz. Decca Q LXT6291 o SXL6291 (12 in., 32s. 3d. plus 5s. 9d. PT).

Selected comparisons:

NBC SO, Toscanini (3/55) (7/66) (R) Q VIC1187 0 VICS1187 Columbia SO, Walter (3/60) Q BRG72093 (9/60) 0 SBRG72093 LPO, Rignold (4/61) (R) MAL551 VPO, Kertesz (10/61) Q LXT5662 SXL2289 Philharmonia, Giulini (3/62) 0 33CX1769 0 SAX2405 Philharrnonia, Klemperer (11/64) l 33CX1914 0 SAX2564 Berlin PO, Karajan (12/64) Q LPM18924 0 SLPM138924 Berlin RSO, Maazel (9/67) 0 SAL3622

Kertesz's Dvofak cycle could have had no more fitting culmination. Decca's apparent extravagance (for the sake of uniformity) in re-recording the New World with Kertesz and the LSO only six years after he made his earlier Decca version with the Vienna Philharmonic is abundantly justified. In every way this supplants the earlier disc, and bids fair to being the best general recommendation for this muchduplicated symphony.

A direct comparison makes very plain just how Kertesz's musicianship has matured in the intervening years. Like Schubert's Ninth this symphony presents terrible traps for the unwary conductor in the linking of contrasting passages. An eminent pianist once suggested that the art of interpretation is above all the art of making transitions, and nowhere is that rule as true as in these two symphonies. Kertesz was plainly aware of it at the time of his earlier version, but there his concern was often made too evident. Take the moment in that Vienna performance which I have always found it impossible to accept, the transition into the third subject of the first movement ("Swing low, sweet chariot"). In the Vienna version Kertesz's rallentando is terribly exaggerated. One thinks the music is going to stop completely, and it then comes as rather a surprise that the theme itself is not all that much slower than the preceding passage. So why the fuss ?

Evidently Kertesz himself now thinks so too, for this time the rallentando is no more than a natural easing, and the fractional difference of tempo between the first, second and third subjects is beautifully judged—enough to allow full breadth of phrasing in the second and third, but not enough to disrupt the structural unity of a movement compressed already. Like Klemperer—and for that matter Maazel, reviewed by TH in September—Kertesz takes the exposition repeat in this first movement, one of the instances I have long felt where such a repeat comes near to being essential. Without it the movement is disproportionately short in relation to the rest of the symphony.

The slow movement is if anything more impressive. Kertesz combines a fresh, unmannered style with the sort of hushed intensity which made Karajan's account impressive despite his deplorably sentimental and mannered phrasing. For my money Kertesz gets the best of all worlds, outshining even Giulini, for he achieves similar purity of line without the hint of coolness that some object to in the Columbia issue. The playing of the LSO is intensely beautiful. The violin tone may not be so warm as that of the Vienna Philharmonic on Kertesz's earlier—and less clearly recorded—version, but discipline is far superior in every movement, and in the slow movement in particular Kertesz's slower tempo this time brings with it greater intensity, a sense of spontaneity and concentration.

The scherzo• is again slower than before, clearer and more sharply-focused, and the contrasting theme, though simpler and less pointed, also sounds more spontaneous. The Trio brings much less contrast of tempo than before, in fact Kertesz takes it faster than he did in 1961. The balance is better, for the Vienna woodwind was pushed too far back, but I wish Kertesz had brought out the snapping quavers in the dotted rhythm more sharply.

The finale again brings a perfectly judged tempo, fast enough to convey urgency but not so fast that the galloping triplet rhythms of the contrasting passages are muddled or that a gear-change is required for the lyrical second subject. Kertesz keeps the tempo remarkably steady, yet the transitions seem perfectly natural and unforced. Interpretatively, the differences between this time and last are comparatively small, but it is fascinating to analyse why the main theme this time avoids the hint of rhythmic stodginess which—with the fairly measured tempo—spoiled the Vienna version. I thought at first it was because the accenting in the new version was less marked, but in fact it is subtler than that, for this time Kertesz differentiates more clearly between first-beat accents and thirdbeat accents, so keeping the forward movement more alive.

It is only a few months since I spent much time preparing a comparative review of the New World for John Lade's Music Programme "Record Review". Then my rather surprising conclusion—surprising even to me—was that the most compelling performance, by no means a conventional one, was Klemperer's, for the overall breadth and imaginative detail counteracted any initial disagreement over the measured tempi. I still think Klemperer's a really great performance, in the last resort greater than this for showing the imagina

Lion of a master conductor at full stretch. But there is no doubt that Kertesz provides a far more centrally acceptable performance. Klemperer's is marvellous for revealing the work in an entirely new light: Kertesz more than any rival, I think, solves all the problems in the way I for one have always tended to imagine in my mind's eye from looking at the score. The speeds are all superbly judged, and the recording quality is excellent, though the length of sides has meant that the sound is at a marginally lower level than before.

That brings me to the fill-up. Of those listed above only Giulini provides any Fill-up at all, and Giulini does not take the first movement repeat. Klemperer and Maazel take that repeat, but provide no fill-up. The others provide neither repeat nor fill-up, so even on a purely value-formoney basis Kertesz has the edge over his rivals. The Othello Overture is the longest of the three overtures Dvoi-ak wrote as a trilogy at almost exactly the same time as the symphony. Perhaps with Shakespeare and Verdi in mind, I had always been disappointed with it, but here Kertesz's understanding vigour make it seem strong and attractive. Again the playing is excellent, though—small point—I am surprised the wind mis-chording at the very opening and at a comparable entry later was not corrected.

Ray Minshull, the recording manager— now John Curshaw's successor—who has been in charge of the whole Kertesz/Dvofak project provides one of his informative and far-from-stereotyped sleeve-notes. For any company at this stage to produce another duplication of the New World that outshines its rivals to the degree this does is some achievement.

It is hardly an exaggeration to say that the arrival of this Kertesz/LSO series has established once and for all the revised numbering of Dvofak's symphonies from 1 to 9, and that is a boon when for so long we either had to accept the old incorrect convention or at the very least put in brackets "formerly No. 5" and so on. That Dvoi-ak himself thought of the New World as his Ninth symphony is amply confirmed by his inclusion at the front of the manuscript of a list of all previous eight symphonies. Admittedly he did not get all the details right, and the first symphony was then lost and not due to be re-discovered for another 30 years. But at least he had no intention of jettisoning the early works as juvenilia.

What is so satisfying about the success of this New World is that if a casual collector happens upon this version as his first Dvoi'ak purchase, he may well be enticed to venture on to the earlier and less wellknown works. He would be helped, I suppose, by the uniform Brueghel sleeve designs, all of them most attractive, though I do wish Decca could match its rivals in quality of printed reproduction. E.G.