The Magic Wand strikes again, in Bruckner Eighth

Günter Wand has been dubbed the "Magic Wand" as far as Bruckner is concerned. In his late years, tickets for his concerts were much sought after. I was lucky to attend his concerts playing the last 3 symphonies of Bruckner, two in Edinburgh and one in Japan.

Altus, for the 10-year anniversary of its label, has just released his concert of Bruckner 8th during his Japanese tour in 1990, his penultimate appearance in Japan before his final concerts there in 2000. I just envy the audience in that concert. This 8th has a magical touch. All Wand's positive attributes are there. I'd say it is the most memorable among all nine Wand's Bruckner 8th recordings that I possess.

Wand's working style in Bruckner is well documented by reviewers and journalists. Wand described his mission in Bruckner, "When I conduct Bruckner, I want to show that he is a great symphonist and not just a composer characterized by solemnly sacred moods; I simply want to perform the music as Bruckner intended it." (quoted from his biography).

If I'm asked to choose only one of his characteristics to describe his art in Bruckner, I'd say "unflagging tension". His Bruckner never sags in tension, vigour or fervour. It is all done with a nice balance: his music never sounds hard-driven, and no sudden accelerando or ritardando are employed within a theme or section. Change of basic tempo between themes is usually marked with a slight pause to enable a clear perception of the juxtaposition of blocks of sounds rather than a fading-out and fading-in between thematic groups (in contrast to Haitink here). The tension is maintained simultaneously by a taut but polished rhythmic control, and by clarity and transparency in harmonic consonance. This delicate balance between the verical and horizontal aspects of music is almost inimitable in Wand's case. Celibidache can also muster such a balance, but at the expense of a general slow pulse. He just has that uncanny ability to draw the audience's or listener's attention from the very beginning.


Wand was very meticulous, or even fastidious, about rehearsals and performances. This meticulousness is particularly suited to Bruckner's symphonies, as Bruckner himself was also very meticulous about his composition. While some may criticise Wand's Bruckner as too "straightforward" or "literal", I would disagree. Compared with other lesser Brucknerians who only dwell on the "mood" of the music, or are too eager to present the "blocks of sound", resulting in a transformation of Bruckner's music into a form of protracted blues or unplugged heavy metal respectively, Wand is the quintessence of the masters in conducting.


Of the nine recordings pictured above, I'd take the latest one issued (Altus ALT198/8, 3 Nov 1990, Suntory Hall, Tokyo) if I'm allowed to choose only one. While the Berlin version exhibits excellent ensemble and orchestral sound which are highly likeable, I've always missed that little something that was present in Wand's other versions, be it NDRSO or Munich Philharmonic. It is what I'd call a "trace of anguished embitterment", particularly in the Adagio, that left a memorable aftertaste, and this is all the more evident in this 1990 performance. Listen to the long ascent to the climax in the Adagio (from m. 185; 16'43") and also the few measures before this transition, and my heart was subjugated. By the way if the violins are divided (e.g. as in Sinopoli's recording), it would be even nicer, for the second violins carry the melody while the first violins bring out the counterpoints, and a divided desk will highlight this orchestral masterstroke.

A truly memorable performance and recording.