WINNER AND STILL CHAMPION A pride of new compact disks awards first place to Beethoven

By Michael Walsh

Talk about dynasties: the Yankees, Canadiens and Celtics have nothing on Ludwig van Beethoven. Since the mid-19th century, Beethoven has been the dominant figure in concert music. Brahms was haunted by him, Bruckner worshiped him, and Wagner was inspired by him. Pianists, string quartets and symphony orchestras perform his music incessantly, and audiences never tire of it. In the nearly 160 years since his death, Beethoven has fended off all contenders to World's Greatest Composer and shows no signs of losing his title. The latest crop of the champ's compact disks: Beethoven: The Five Piano Concertos; Polonaise in C Major, Op. 89; ''Andante Favori.'' Artur Schnabel, piano, with Sir Malcom Sergeant conducting the London Symphony and London Philharmonic orchestras (Arabesque, three CDs, sold separately). Schnabel, who died in 1951, was an unlikely cult hero. Physically, he was unprepossessing: a short, stocky man with a walrus mustache and stubby fingers that, when they were not at the keyboard, habitually clutched a cigar. Technically, his sturdy playing was far from the blazing virtuosic ideal. Yet for concert audiences between the wars, Schnabel was among the foremost of pianists, his name synonymous with Beethoven's. His recitals of the piano sonatas were like religious services, and his editions of the music were admired for their combination of scholarship and pragmatism. The concerto recordings were made between 1932 and 1935, at the height of Schnabel's interpretive powers. Probity is the operative word here; the German notion of ''depth'' had no greater exponent than Schnabel. (A footnote in Schnabel's sonata edition could ramble for several inches discussing the difference between an appoggiatura and a semiquaver.) Yes, some of the runs in the ''Emperor'' are a bit mussy, but the pianist's earnest approach is informed by a proprietary affection for music. Schnabel's Beethoven doesn't smile very much, but then icons never do. + Beethoven: Piano Concerto No. 5 (''Emperor''). Claudio Arrau, piano, with Sir Colin Davis conducting the Staatskapelle Dresden (Philips). The pedagogical grandson of Liszt (through his teacher in Berlin, Martin Krause), Arrau, 83, is equally at home in the Transcendental Etudes, the Brahms sonatas and the Beethoven concertos, lavishing on each his pellucid tone and his hardy technique. The Beethoven concertos have long been a specialty, and he recorded a memorable set in 1964 with Bernard Haitink and the Amsterdam Concertgebouw Orchestra. This ''Emperor'' was recorded in Dresden in late 1984 and is vintage Arrau. Like Schnabel, Arrau believes that the best interpretation is the one that lets the music speak most directly to the listener. Beethoven: Symphonies Nos. 1 and 2. Christopher Hogwood conducting the Academy of Ancient Music (L'Oiseau-Lyre). Beethoven: Symphonies Nos. 2 and 7. Arturo Toscanini conducting the NBC Symphony Orchestra (RCA). No greater contrast can be imagined. Original Instrument Specialist Hogwood offers light, fleet, graceful performances that explicitly evoke Beethoven's classical- period roots. Toscanini, on the other hand, is rough and hard charging in these readings from 1949 and 1951. Once, Toscanini's Beethoven was Beethoven, as surely handed down from on high as Schnabel's. Today, Toscanini's interpretations sound merely coarse, the vaunted NBC Symphony distinctly second-rate. What, one wonders, was all the fuss about? Beethoven: Symphonies Nos. 3 (''Eroica'') and 8. Herbert von Karajan conducting the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra (Deutsche Grammophon). Beethoven: Symphony No. 9. Soprano Carol Vaness, Mezzo Janice Taylor, Tenor Siegfried Jerusalem, Bass Robert Lloyd; Christoph von Dohnanyi conducting the Cleveland Orchestra and Chorus (Telarc). Every decade Karajan tackles the Beethoven symphonies, and these new recordings of the heroic Third and frisky Eighth complete his latest cycle. Like his previous version, issued in the mid-1970s, these interpretations are forceful and decisive, fast without being headlong, firm without being inflexible. The Berlin Philharmonic's playing is silky as ever. But in terms of sheer kinetic excitement, nothing will top the explosive, elemental performances from the 1960s. Dohnanyi's Ninth boasts a strong quartet of soloists and is infused with the German maestro's unerring sense of structure and musical integrity. No cheap effects here, but, unfortunately, not a strong sense of drama either. Considering that the Ninth changed the course not only of the symphony but of German opera as well, some hint of that power would have been welcome. Beethoven: The Middle Quartets. The Melos Quartet (Deutsche Grammophon, 3 CDs). These five string quartets are less stylistically unified than the six early quartets of Op. 18, in which Beethoven explored and exorcised his Haydnesque roots, or the five late quartets, in which he boldy ventured where no composer had gone before. The Stuttgart-based Melos Quartet offers cleanly phrased readings distinguished by flawless ensemble. If the listener could wish for more tonal opulence in a brooding work like the E Minor Quartet, Op. 59, No. 2, it is hard to argue with the precise articulation of Op. 59, No. 3's whirlwind obstacle course of a finale. As a bonus, the recording includes a sprightly performance of a quartet that Beethoven arranged from his Piano Sonata in E Major, Op. 14, No. 1. Even in the lofty classical-record business, it helps to have a gimmick.