Audition: Bruckner Symphony No. 5, New Philharmonia/Otto Klemperer #Bruckerthon2025

Rec: March 1967, Kingsway Hall

With the Fifth Symphony, we encounter a more settled composer and a more rigorously constructed and settled manuscript. Unlike earlier symphonies, this one has seen little alteration by Bruckner or subsequent academic digging, aside from a controversial rewrite by Schalk (recorded by Knappertsbusch). For many, the Fifth is a masterpiece, though the 25-minute finale can feel excessive. At its best, as it is here, it is thrilling - a monument to Bruckner’s steady progress and determination.

Klemperer recorded symphonies 4–9 with the Philharmonia for EMI, alongside a Vox recording of the Fourth with the Wiener Symphoniker. Critical appreciation of this Klemperer recording often leans on geological metaphors—“granitic” is a popular descriptor—and while this is apt (if overused), it captures the monumental quality of Bruckner’s music. In this mode, Bruckner shares a geological kinship with Harrison Birtwistle, who was fascinated by the notions of time and timbre in geological terms. The Fifth Symphony resonates with a massive lapidary quality, small changes resolving in large scale consequences, evoking a sense of geological I think.

It’s worth acknowledging that Bruckner’s first four symphonies, while promising, don’t quite achieve the coherence of his later works. They often struggle with issues of flow, temperament, and excessive repetition, reflecting both the composer’s naivety and his evolving style.

The Fifth Symphony, however, marks a turning point—a work of maturity and grandeur that stands as a testament to Bruckner’s artistic growth. From the opening pages of this symphony, one immediately notices how Klemperer and the EMI engineers meticulously delineate the brass lines—the trombones and tuba sound glorious. Klemperer takes a slow, deliberate approach to the first section, but the clarity he achieves is magnificent. His keen attention to dynamics is evident, particularly when the strings propel the music forward. Later, as the winds make their contributions, the Philharmonia players demonstrate remarkable teamwork.

In the second movement, the Kingsway Hall’s glorious acoustics allow the opening string passages to shine beautifully. Klemperer masterfully guides the orchestra and the listener through the very quiet subtle passages especially the way he handles the bass lines. It’s worth noting that this passage has reportedly challenged conductors - even the current chief conductor of the Berlin Philharmonic.

The third movement, marked “Molto Vivace”, finds Klemperer somewhat skeptical of the “Molto” indication. At times, his interpretation feels a little foursquare, but his attention to detail and strong rhythmic focus make this symphony far more engaging than many other recordings. He treats the trio section as chamber music, which is both delightful and refreshing, especially as it leads into the coda.

The coda is a minefield of tempo, expression, and dynamic markings, but Klemperer’s subtle adjustments are masterful. Once this behemoth of a movement gains momentum, it moves inexorably in one direction. Klemperer’s insistence on giving each note its full weight ensures that the players sustain their phrases with conviction and endurance.

Thanks to these factors, Klemperer delivers an extraordinary conclusion to the symphony. The balance, tone, and accents are exquisite, culminating in a thrilling sense of finality. While not as ethereal or heavenly as some interpretations, it remains glorious to the very end. This recording captures the experience of hearing the symphony live in a concert hall, a privilege few would have had in 1967. 

Comparing Klemperer’s interpretation with a recent performance by Kyril Petrenko reveals stark contrasts. In Klemperer’s recording, the brass lines are clear and distinct, and the woodwinds remain audible even against their brass counterparts. This clarity is a hallmark of Klemperer’s approach.