Bruno Walter conducting the Columbia Symphony Orchestra

Beethoven: The Nine Symphonies (Sony)

These are invaluable, beautiful and often inspiring recordings. It is tempting to call them, as well, historical recordings. They are historical in a general sense, since Bruno Walter was one of the great conductors of the 20th century with direct links to the age of Wagner.

But as the term is now used in a musicological sense, Walter's performances are anything but historical. The current penchant for "historical" performances emphasizes scholarly research and the use of original instruments to approximate the sound that the composer heard. Walter's approach, conversely, made the will and the soul of the musical artist the essential basis for performance practice.

By the end of the 19th century, well over a half-century after Beethoven's death and when Walter was coming of age, the era of the performer as hero was in full stride. Walter's role models were men such as Hans Richter and Gustav Mahler (his mentor), both superb musicians who thought nothing of adjusting Beethoven's scoring, tempos and dynamic markings to heighten their interpretations. Mahler actually performed the Ninth Symphony with offstage musicians (for the fourth movement march). While Walter did not approve of such stunts, there were fundamental elements of his style which placed him firmly in this post-Wagner school.

Walter's recordings are filled with the two characteristics that differentiate his performances from the latest original instrument readings. The most obvious trait is the almost uniformly slower pace. The metronome was invented during Beethoven's lifetime, and he quickly seized upon the device as a means to accurately set his tempos down for posterity. His choices were often unexpectedly brisk, and even the most scrupulous contemporary interpreters do not always make it up to full tilt. Walter makes no attempt. By almost any standard, these are slow performances, and yet, there is always a sense of momentum.

The other quality of Walter's conducting that might be considered un-authentic is his willingness to adjust his tempos, subtly speeding up or slowing down to suit his interpretation and to insure a flexible, singing line. Walter is subtle, one might say natural, in his control of the musical line.

Walter was a gentle giant, a deliverer of humanity in music. His interpretation of Beethoven was as different from the explosive, rhythmically self-indulgent versions of Mengleberg as it is from the lithe period instrument performances of John Elliot Gardinerin our own time.

The most famous Walter Beethoven reading has always been of the Sixth Symphony, the Pastorale. This glowing, joyous performance belongs in any serious collection of Beethoven. Another overwhelming performance is of the Third. Walter conjured a huge soundscape, full of the humanistic fervor of the composer, who was inspired by the French Revolution in writing this magnificent score. The more energetic, faster works lack the sheer excitement of the finest interpretations, but the heft of the playing makes for unusual and richly satisfying performances.

The digital remastering of these late 1950s recordings is superb. The set also includes a CD of Walter rehearsing, urging his players on with a courtly, Austrian-accented purr ("Pleez, gentlemen, vee start again. . .)."