Recording of the Week, Bruckner's Symphony No. 4 from Anima Eterna and Pablo Heras-Casado

Bruckner’s ‘cathedrals in sound’ have often been described as overblown, but this recording of his most popular symphony, played here in its second version of 1878-1880, offers a convincing counterargument. The relatively small forces and the use of period instruments bring a level of clarity rarely heard in Bruckner’s music, the distinctive timbres characterfully colouring the sound and demonstrating the skill and subtlety of his orchestration. The opening sounds especially solemn played on a nineteenth-century horn over atmospheric, shimmering strings, and it announces an opportunity to experience the music anew; in Heras-Casado’s words, 'to see what you knew in a new perspective and a new light'.

There is refreshing elegance to Anima Eterna’s playing in the second theme-group of the first movement, before a well-judged increase in tension towards the eventual return and development of the opening theme. Each time that theme recurs throughout the symphony, Heras-Casado points it out by making the most of its shifting settings rather than by overt bluntness, and this contributes to the captivating cohesiveness of the interpretation.

Heras-Casado maintains a line of tension throughout the whole symphony, always bringing a thread of cohesion and forward direction that engages. That isn’t to say he doesn’t find repose in the more reflective passages, but he does so without losing sight of the overall structure. In the second movement, where Bruckner’s ‘cathedral’ can sound more like muddy catacombs in some recordings, Heras-Casado achieves an affecting combination of emotional depth and integrity. This could be music from the choir stalls, melodies shaped as if by a singer, and harmonies voiced with a balance which frequently sounds hymnal and allows every timbre its rightful space. There is a reflection here of Bruckner the organist, carefully selecting registrations to colour the music.

Pacing is well judged throughout this recording, where some conductors give Bruckner’s ‘…but not too fast’ markings too much weight. Nowhere is this more evident than in the third movement. The hunting call of the horns and the trumpets establishes the Scherzo perfectly. Later, there is a deftness of touch in the flutes and clarinets, ahead of a closing climax that has a natural feeling of inevitability. In the gently shaded trio section Heras-Casado capitalises on the more pastoral atmosphere, making the return of the hunting calls in the Scherzo da capo all the more powerful, and its conclusion all the more dramatic.

Heras-Casado’s grasp of the architecture of the symphony pays dividends in the final movement, the very model of Bruckner’s opening instruction - Bewegt, doch nicht zu schnell (moving but not too fast). There is no wallowing here, the music unfolding naturally, always with a sense of tension and forward movement but never rushed or glossed over. As elsewhere, the careful attention given to balance brings delicacy to the moments of quiet interplay between parts, and this makes the huge edifices of the more richly scored climaxes all the more dramatic.

If you yearn for a recording of this symphony that avoids indulgence, but which reflects Bruckner’s ‘Romantic’ sobriquet and the powerful sense of inevitability that persistently underlines his writing, this is one you should listen to. The natural recorded sound, achieved for Harmonia Mundi by Steven Maes, offers good insight and lays everything out as well as your listening equipment will allow.

I hear there’s more Bruckner to come from Heras-Casado and Anima Eterna Brugge, for which I wait with anticipation.