Belohlávek is a lucid, sure-footed guide through Dvorák's mightiest symphonic utterance, and his sympathetic direction combines both warmhearted naturalness as well as total fidelity to the score (dynamics are scrupulously attended to throughout). If it sounds just a little under- energised next to other vividly dramatic accounts, the sheer unforced eloquence and lyrical fervour of the playing always give enormous pleasure.
Certainly, the first movement's secondary material glows with affectionate warmth, while the sublime Poco adagio emerges seamlessly, its songful rapture and nostalgic vein captured as to the manner born by this great orchestra (listen out for some gorgeous work from the principal flute, clarinet and horn).
The Scherzo trips along with an infectious, rhythmic spring, as well as an engaging poise and clarity; moreover, the dark-hued unsettling Trio (a casualty in so many rival performances) is handled with equal perception. The finale, too, is immensely pleasing, marrying symphonic thrust with weighty rhetoric rather in the manner of Colin Davis's distinguished Amsterdam account.
The closing bars are very broad and imposing indeed. A performance of considerable dignity and no mean stature, benefiting from vibrant Chandos engineering. The symphony is followed by a long-breathed, slumbering account of the Nocturne (gloriously played by the Czech PO strings) and the disc concludes with a fine Watergoblin. Again, the orchestral response is as disciplined and poised as you could hope to hear.

Belohlavek knows better than his direct rivals how to draw warmth from the Czech Philharmonic...Fresh, well paced and intelligently shaped, this is a thoroughly recommendable reading