All of this would be wasted, of course, if the performance lacked authority and musical distinction. For me it has more of both elements than the majority of its competitors. Steinberg seems to have gone directly back to the score, discounting tradition, and has built his performance on the intention to reproduce as faithfully as possible exactly what Brahms set down on paper.

Those accustomed to broader, more romantic statements of the symphony can be expected to react strongly when they hear this one. Without losing the distinctive undertow of Brahmsian rhythm, the pacing is firm and the over-all performance has a tightly knit quality that makes for maximum cumulative effect. The Presto ma non assai of the first trio of the scherzo is taken literally and may shock you, as the real Allegro con spirito of the finale is likely to bring you to your feet. In the end, however, the thing about this performance that is most striking is the way it sings. Steinberg obviously has concluded that it is the lyric element which must dominate in this score, and he manages at times to create the effect of the whole orchestra bursting into song.

The engineering provides exactly the support needed for such a result. Too many records seem to reduce a work of symphonic complexity to a melody and its accompaniment. The Command technique invites you to listen to the depth of the orchestration. Your ear takes you into the ensemble, and you may well become aware of instrumental details which previously were apparent only in the score. It is this sort of experience that makes the concept of high fidelity of real musical significance for the home music listener. The first substantially complete stereo Giselle (and the only one of its scope since Feyer's four-sided LP edition of 1958 for Angel), this set is, I'm afraid, likely to provide more horrid fascination than enjoyment. The already faded pastel charms of the naive music itself vanish entirely in Fistoulari's melodramatic contrasts between ultra vehement brute power and chilly, if suave, sentimentality. And in its engineers' frantic attempts to achieve maximum dynamic impact and earsplitting brilliance, the recording sounds as though it had been ``doctored for super high fidelity.'' The home listener is overpowered, all right, but the experience is a far from pleasant one. As with the penultimate Giselle release (Wolff's abridgment for RCA Victor) I find the cleaner, less razor edged monophonic version, for all its lack of big stage spaciousness, the more aurally tolerable -- but this may be the result of processing defects in my SD copies.