What a bonanza: some of the most searching interpretations ever made of symphonic cornerstones, from a now bygone era of performance, here beautifully remastered by Music & Arts and packaged into a bargain set. Wilhelm Furtwängler's dynamic, always-evolving--and often unpredictable--visions of a classic score could overwhelm listeners with their paradoxical aura of the inevitable, wresting away the easy, dull comfort of familiarity. This is most dramatically the case with the conductor's performances of Beethoven. They still move and shake us free of lazy assumptions about this music with all the power of artistic truth. Furtwängler came relatively late to Brahms (like so many of the composer's most abiding admirers) but identified deeply with Brahms's dark strain of melancholy and self-consciousness. The Furtwängler trademarks are all here--palpable molding of tempos and dynamics to concentrate drama, oracular moments of insight, and an astonishingly compelling, organic sense of the whole. Perhaps the most viscerally thrilling account here is of the First Symphony, from 1951, which, as John Ardoin brilliantly describes it in The Furtwängler Record, has the "magnificent rawness of a Michelangelo." But, when you think you've reached an untoppable high at its conclusion, listen to the finale from Furtwängler's final wartime concert in Berlin, 1945 (the only extant movement on disc), included in this set. The symphonies presented here are a far cry from the stuffy, pedantic, anachronistic Brahms served up by so many lesser lights. Furtwängler grasps and conveys the subtly layered ambiguities in these scores, the blending--particularly in the Second's Adagio (1945) and the final measures of the Third (1943)--of deep shadow with serene sunlight. His Brahms Four from 1943 at times verges on the terrifying; ultimately it passes beyond tragedy into new wisdom as Furtwängler scoops, caresses, sculpts, and simply builds musical contours. The set also includes two interpretations of the Haydn Variations (1943 and 1951) and the legendary 1942 Second Piano Concerto featuring Edwin Fischer as soloist--a touchstone of musical partnership. There's a varying level of background hiss and distortion throughout the set, but in general this is an extraordinary CD transfer. And in Furtwängler's presence, any distracting artifacts of the recorded sound soon fade into insignificance. This is a must not only for listeners serious about Brahms but for anyone intrigued by the art of musical interpretation. --Thomas May
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