With some composers in some works, the medium is the message. For
Brahms in his orchestral works, the medium of choice is rich oils with deep colors, lush textures, and full brushstrokes. Whether hard driven by
Toscanini or high flying by
Furtwängler, whether enormously dramatic by
Solti or immensely intense by
Szell,
Brahms' orchestral music should always sound like Rembrandt's paintings look: rich, deep, lush, and full. Unfortunately, in this collection of
Brahms' symphonies by
Riccardo Chailly and the
Concertgebouw Orchestra Amsterdam, the medium of choice appears to be thick pastels with garish colors, messy textures, and flabby downbeats. It's not that the
Concertgebouw can't play the music: it has played and recorded
Brahms' symphonies innumerable times and clearly knows the music backwards, forwards, inside out, and sideways. And it's not that
Chailly can't conduct the music. A highly skilled conductor with a particular knack for twentieth century music,
Chailly can obviously do anything he wants with the music. But
Chailly's approach to the music just sounds wrong. In his hands,
Brahms' themes sound less lyric than simple, his forms sound less dramatic than prosaic, his ideas sound less profound than obvious, his emotions sound less honest than sentimental, and his ideals sound less late German Romantic than early adolescent sophomoric. Despite Decca's warmly molded sound, this set is less successful than unnecessary.