Wilhelm Furtwängler has enjoyed a wide upswing in popularity during the last decade. This is striking, since today most orchestras, especially within the United States, make no attempt whatsoever to bear fruit of any similarity to the artistic, contemplative, and somewhat mystical results that Furtwängler so frequently achieved. What, if anything then, is the real attraction of Furtwängler today? Listeners who are accustomed to modern recordings by orchestras that assert whistle-clean technical perfection and crystalline sound clarity (often completely unrealistic) at the expense of deeper musical spirit may struggle with this very question.
Those listeners, though, who can use their imagination to fill in some of the gaps through the grain of these somewhat sandy performances will find that all of Furtwängler's music-making carries one element frequently lost today: meaning. The idea is easily lost today, especially within classical music that is not based on a text. By design this music typically lacks a "plot" or "story," unlike the more poetic works of later eras.
From hearing these performances, though, one would never know that there wasn't a story to these works. The Mozart featured on this two-disc set is, in many ways, the perfect collection of music in which to showcase Furtwängler's brimming imagination. The collection consists not only of a broad range of Mozart's repertoire, but also some of his most popular. In his performance of Mozart's ubiquitous Symphony No. 40, Furtwängler delivers a rhythmically impulsive reading that also speaks colorfully, lyrically, and eloquently throughout its longer lines. Although the clipped ends of phrases eventually grow tiresome, there is a richness embodied in his sound that bleeds through, even in this 1948 recording. Following the
symphony, two of the famous coloratura arias from The Magic Flute follow (and yes, there is a story here). These are enjoyable listens, if not for Wilma Lipp's voice, then for the clarity of the text that is lucidly brought to the foreground. Furtwängler masterfully matches Lipp's vocal quality in each aria: "O zittre nicht" projects the disposition of reassurance that eventually morphs into the vengeance of "Der Hölle Rache." The Piano Concerto No. 20 in D minor, arguably Mozart's darkest, is given more than just a sympathetic performance: the exposition swims in a pool of tears and effectively elucidates an overwhelmingly somber tone. While the exchange of ideas between pianist Yvonne Lefébure and Furtwängler is not always seamless, the performance is good overall.
The second disc features a lush, sonorous interpretation of the "Gran Partita." While strong overall, it is somewhat less focused than the rest of the featured works and contains some minor but irritating intonation problems. The second disc is completed with a sumptuous performance of the "Eine Kleine Nachtmusik." Considering that all of these recordings are from the '40s and '50s, although a bit granular, the sound quality on this EMI release is surprisingly clear. Another strong addition to Furtwängler's recorded legacy that continues to prove his worth to today's listeners.
