With this new album the award-winning Latvian Radio Choir conducted by Sigvards Kļava is turning its attention to the music of Alexander Grechaninov (1864–1956), one of the masters of Russian liturgic music. Grechaninov’s All-Night Vigil is a fitting continuation to the choir’s albums of sacred music by Sergey Rachmaninov and Pyotr Tchaikovsky. Together with the two latter names, Grechaninov’s All-Night Vigil, completed in 1912, belongs to the central repertoire of Russian liturgic music. Unlike the Vigils by Rachmaninov and Tchaikovsky, Grechaninov’s work was written primarily for concert use. Grechaninov’s All-Night Vigilis a bright, optimistic work full of light. Grechaninov used old traditional Slavic chants as the basis of this work and selected the uplifting, solemnly glorious chants to emphasize the character of joy, exultation and jubilance.

The Latvian Radio Choir (LRC) ranks among the top professional chamber choirs in Europe and its refined taste for musical material, fineness of expression and vocal of unbelievably immense compass have charted it as a noted brand on the world map. The repertoire of LRC ranges from the Renaissance music to the most sophisticated scores by modern composers; and it could be described as a sound laboratory –the singers explore their skills by turning to the mysteries of traditional singing, as well as to the art of quartertone and overtone singing and other sound production techniques.

REVIEW:

While there is no mistaking the urgency of the composer’s calls for mercy in his ‘Great Doxology’, or the joy unleashed in the final hymn to the “Victorious Leader”, the overall tone of the work is gentle, soothing, and altogether loving. As the composer told us, his aim was “to create a harmonic dress for our simple church songs”. For Slavic fire and brimstone, then, you’ll have to look elsewhere.

The Latvian Radio is one of the world’s finest choirs and sounds it here. Informative notes, texts, and an English translation round out an offering that any choral aficionado would be proud to claim.

-- American Record Guide

This new Beethoven symphony cycle with Malmö Symphony Orchestra is conductor Robert Trevino’s debut release on Ondine. Trevino is one of the fastest rising young conductors and known for his fresh and vivid interpretations of both standard repertoire as well as contemporary works. Trevino is currently holding the tenures as chief conductor of the Malmö Symphony Orchestra and as music director of the Basque National Orchestra. After studies with conductors David Zinman, Seiji Ozawa and Michael Tilson Thomas, Trevino worked closely as Leif Segerstam’s assistant before making his debuts with a number of leading symphony orchestras worldwide. These Beethoven symphonies were recorded in connection with a Beethoven festival which was arranged in Malmö, Sweden in October, 2019.

REVIEW:

It may seem bold and even brash for a relatively young conductor like Robert Trevino to launch a new label relationship with a Beethoven symphony cycle recorded in live performance. Yet he has an obvious affinity for this repertoire, compounded by the Malmö Symphony Orchestra’s polished and responsive music making. Ondine’s engineering captures the orchestra in fine detail without artificial spotlighting, conveying a genuine concert hall ambience.

In a perceptive interview with David Patrick Stearns published as part of this set’s annotations, Trevino cites consultations with David Zinman and Daniel Barenboim concerning interpretive matters. Indeed there’s evidence of Zinman’s chamber-like aesthetic and fast tempos, as well as the power and dynamism distinguishing Barenboim’s great Berlin Staatskapelle Beethoven symphony cycle. But Trevino goes his own way, with variable results.

His brisk outer movements in Symphony No. 1 are akin to Toscanini’s opera buffa approach, particularly in the Allegro con brio development section’s playful woodwind repartée. Certain phrases in the Minuet push ever-so-slightly ahead of the beat, yet remain securely locked in, ensemble-wise. In No. 2, Trevino effects an assiduous transition between the Adagio introduction and an enchantingly rollicking Allegro con brio. For all its suppleness of execution, I prefer the more pointed string articulation in Paavo Järvi’s similarly conceived traversal. The controlled delicacy in the Larghetto’s softer music makes this movement sound faster than its actual duration, although it’s on the square side when compared alongside the more robust and inflected Harnoncourt reading.

Trevino undersells the cross-rhythmic sforzandos in the Eroica symphony’s first movement, while the exposition’s basic tempo gradually spreads and slows down: not a lot, but the energy flags. Trevino’s Funeral March is as eloquent and moving as the catalog’s best versions. The conductor accelerates for the Fughetta, yet the carefully layered counterpoint and tremendous dynamic build reflect the music’s shattering intent. The Scherzo has all of Szell/Cleveland’s surface perfection, minus its nervous energy, while the finale variations brilliantly showcase the Mälmo woodwinds’ proficiency.

Trevino largely underplays No. 4. The opening Adagio’s blended string and woodwind passages are super clear but lack the foreboding aura of Thomas Fey’s marked dynamic contrasts and stinging accents. The slow movement’s two-note phrases are not as well-defined as in the Bruno Walter/Columbia Symphony recording.

Some may find No. 5’s first movement overly driven, yet Trevino’s attention to linear interplay never derails. If the Andante con moto doesn’t aspire to Beethoven’s “dolce” directive, notice the uncommon clarity of the upper strings’ staccato 32nd notes. The Scherzo’s clipped detaché tuttis and difficult cello/bass fugal entrance in the Trio are appropriately forceful, while the Allegro finale mirrors the first movement’s relentless momentum.

In the Pastorale, Trevino emulates Zinman’s transparency and fast tempos, but with more distinctive first-desk soloists. The bird-call intimations in the second movement are deliciously shaped, but the fourth-movement storm doesn’t break out into a Klempererian or Kleiberian torrent.

No. 7’s fast-paced outer movements border on glibness, missing the force and drama with which Barenboim/Berlin Staatskapelle, Wand/NDR, the first Solti/Chicago, and Carlos Kleiber/Bavarian State Radio Orchestra grab you by the jugular, figuratively speaking.

Trevino’s first-movement tricks in No. 8 don’t quite work, such as a diminuendo in the opening phrase that telegraphs the subito piano that follows, plus odd accelerandos here and there. The conductor gives short shrift to the cross-rhythmic accents, and to the cellos and basses who carry the melodic burden in the transition leading into the recapitulation. The Allegretto’s woodwind gurgles are recessed to polite effect, when they ought to be in your face. The rollicking finale stands out for deft interplay between orchestral strands, yet the similarly lithe Haitink/London Symphony recording proves more incisive in every respect.

Trevino maintains the basic tempo of No. 9’s first movement with little modification, and makes expressive points solely through variety of articulation and specificity of phrasing. The Scherzo’s vibrantly shaped Trio compensates for the main section’s coolness and lack of fervency. In the briskly reserved Adagio, the decorative string passages still manage to sing out and breathe. And the “Ode to Joy” finale benefits from fine singing and “centrist” tempos that are intelligently unified and not too fast nor too slow.

The conductor observes all repeats, eschews the traditional brass reinforcements in the Ninth’s Scherzo, and opts for the trumpets continuing their phrases in the Eroica first-movement coda. If this Beethoven cycle falls short of our reference versions’ consistent satisfaction and seasoned authority, Robert Trevino’s stylish flair, astute musicianship, and good taste are never in doubt.

– ClassicsToday (Jed Distler)

Latvian composer Pēteris Vasks (b. 1946) is one of the most prominent names among living composers today. This album by the Latvian National Symphony Orchestra conducted by Andris Poga includes the first recording of Vasks’ atmospheric and pastoral Oboe Concerto written for the centenary celebrations of Latvia’s independence in 2018 and performed by one of today’s leading oboists, Albrecht Mayer. The new concerto is coupled with two early orchestral works from the 1980s, Vestijums and Lauda – both musical manifestations from the final years of the Soviet Union when occupied Latvia started its peaceful fight to regain the country’s independence.

REVIEW:

Although he was a septuagenarian when he composed this Oboe Concerto in 2018, on a commission from oboist Albrecht Mayer, the music of composer Pēteris Vasks has continued to evolve. The inclusion here of two of Vasks’ 1980s orchestral works is to the point, for they are clearly works of the same composer as the Oboe Concerto, showing a characteristic departure from Baltic minimalism in a Romantic direction. Yet Vasks’ weaving of Romantic and minimalist has deepened over the years. One feels that the performances here by are unusually committed; the effect is hypnotic. The detailed notes, providing a good deal of context relevant to the development of Vasks’ increasingly influential music, form another attraction.

-- AllMusic.com (James Manheim)

Ondine celebrates Beethoven’s 250th anniversary of birth by re-issuing Olli Mustonen’s Beethoven cycle with the Tapiola Sinfonietta. The three volumes were originally released in three separate volumes from 2007-2009. Mustonen, described by The Sunday Times as “living dream of pianism”, is known for delivering fresh and visionary approach to standard works – this is evident in these masterful recordings of Beethoven’s concertos. Mustonen is a particularly fitting exponent for Beethoven’s music as the composer himself was also both visionary and revolutionary in his approach to tradition. The recording of Piano Concerto No. 1 includes Mustonen’s own cadenzas. Beethoven’s own Piano Concerto arrangement of his Violin Concerto is also featured – one of Mustonen’s signature pieces.

REVIEW:

Mustonen plays the five concertos of a piece, not starting out with Mozartean elegance in the first two and building up to mature Beethoven somewhere in Concerto No. 3. He attacks every bar vigorously and with decisive intent. In my experience, no one since Mikhail Pletnev’s highly original and at times eccentric cycle on DG has sounded so personal in music that too often trips off the fingers with glib sameness.

My overall defense of a cycle that will strike other listeners as totally arbitrary comes down to Mustonen being a composer, not a touring pianist playing subscription concerts. These are a composer’s responses to Beethoven, and Mustonen has the fingers to express them with confident assurance and at times with dazzling flourishes. In my corner this release is one of the most refreshing of the Beethoven year.

– Fanfare

The love for the Latvian landscape is audible in the piano works of Latvia’s greatest living composer, Peteris Vasks (b. 1946), especially in his Seasons, the composer’s most frequently performed piano work. For this album pianist Reinis Zarinš has brought two other piano works alongside The Seasons as first recordings: Vasks’ early piano work Cycle (Zyklus) from the 1970s, and a new piano work, Cuckoo’s Voice. Spring Elegy (2021), written by the composer for Reinis Zarinš during the pandemic.

Ever since his concerto debut at the age of ten, Reinis Zariņš has performed as a concerto soloist, recitalist, and chamber musician throughout Europe and North America. He has participated in prestigious music festivals including the Lucerne Festival, the Bath International Music Festival, and the Scotia Festival of Music. His thoughtful virtuosity has delighted audiences at Amsterdam’s Concertgebouw, London’s Wigmore Hall, New York’s Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, and the Tchaikovsky Concert Hall in Moscow. Reinis has collaborated with leading orchestras including the London Philharmonic Orchestra, the Moscow Chamber Orchestra, Kremerata Baltica, and the Ostrobothnian Chamber Orchestra, and with conductors Pierre Boulez, Peter Eötvös, Pablo Heras-Casado, and Andris Poga, among others.

REVIEWS:

Alongside the world premiere recording of Vasks’ first-ever piano piece Cycle (1976) and the epic, complete The Seasons — four freestanding works composed between 1980 and 2008 — Cuckoo’s Voice—Spring Elegy (2021) serves to reinforce a sense of the importance to Vasks of his ongoing calling ‘that he must, until his last breath, glorify God’s world and people and his fatherland’, as Zariņš puts it. Yet, while Cycle especially is a welcome reminder of Vasks’ more astringent youthful style, and his writing is never less than intensely felt, there’s little trace here of the outright anguish that has often characterized his better-known string pieces. It’s as if Vasks is writing from inside nature as opposed to merely observing it: there’s an overarching stillness and acceptance within the sometimes dramatic push-pull of growth and decay explored throughout—and the contrasting moods he traverses ultimately nestle within that bigger process, albeit to varying degrees of comfort.

Zariņš’s impeccable pianism is hugely to thank for this, and his capacity to trace cohesive narratives through often lengthy, apparently free-wheeling but rigorously composed, works. Most satisfying is ‘Autumn Music’ (1981) which looks stylistically backwards and forwards even as it rounds The Seasons and the album itself.

-- BBC Music Magazine

This has the premiere recordings of Zyklus (Cycle) from 1976 and Cuckoo’s Voice. Spring Elegy from 2021. Cuckoo’s Voice is improvisatory and generally meditative, though it does have a few clamorous climaxes. Then Cycle bursts in with notes firing as if from a machine gun, taunting and acerbic. Its pauses are foreboding. Zarins brings out some impressive sounds from the insides of the piano: gradations of pizzicato and a pulsing, ringing “wub-wub-wub” from some low frequencies at the end of the ‘Prologue’. Most string-plucking from pianists sounds awkward, but Zarins gets loveliness out of it, even evoking a zither in the ‘Nocturne’. The repetitive rumblings and clattering chords of ‘Drama’ are too close to pompous avant-garde pounding for my taste, though I have to admit that Vasks manages to preserve his own Baltic voice through it all. The ‘Epilogue’ ties the preceding movements together and ends with what sounds like bricks dropping onto the strings.

The Seasons clocks in at 52 minutes. ‘White Scenery’ is a somewhat minimalist reverie, while ‘Spring Music’ goes for nearly 20 minutes, rippling and ringing and shaking the whole world by the collar with vernal urgency. This spring is the opposite of the English pastoral type and more like a tempered, transparent version of one of Messiaen’s bird-song pieces. The harmonies of ‘Green Scenery’ veer closer to England, but the repeated chords soon turn to tedium. Irritation turns to exasperation in ‘Autumn Music’ and its unending strings of repeated notes similar to tremolo on a guitar. It is more bearable when I concentrate on it (rather than, say, listening to it in the car), but rarely has a piece driven me up the wall so quickly.

Zarins’s playing is superb, and any Vasks fan will want this.

-- American Record Guide (Stephen Page)

Pianist Reinis Zarinš impresses with evocative music-making. In coaxing beautiful colors from the piano, he renders well the more subtle as well as the more immediate moods of the music.

-- Pizzicato

Ondine is proud to release its 17th album together with the award-winning Latvian Radio Choir and conductor Sigvards Kļava dedicated to a cappella words by Anton Brucker. Anton Bruckner (1824–1896) is known as one of the greatest of 19th century symphonists. Yet, also choral music formed an integral part of the composer’s output. This album includes a selection of smaller choral works written between the years 1848 and 1892. Many of these works were long forgotten. Yet after a long stretch on the periphery of the choral world, Bruckner’s motets have now finally returned to a broader consciousness. The Latvian Radio Choir (LRC) ranks among the top professional chamber choirs in Europe and its refined taste for musical material, fineness of expression and vocal of unbelievably immense compass have charted it as a noted brand on the world map. The repertoire of LRC ranges from the Renaissance music to the most sophisticated scores by modern composers; and it could be described as a sound laboratory –the singers explore their skills by turning to the mysteries of traditional singing, as well as to the art of quartertone and overtone singing and other sound production techniques. The choir has established a new understanding of the possibilities of a human voice; one could also say that the choir is the creator of a new choral paradigm: every singer is a distinct individual with his or her own vocal signature and roles in performances.

REVIEW:

It is probably heretical to say so, but I have to confess that I listen to Bruckner’s choral music far more often (and with more satisfaction) than I listen to his symphonies. In part this is because I generally find more delight in the sound of a choir than in that of a symphony orchestra. But another – more important - factor is that the relative brevity of, say, Bruckner’s motets offers the composer less opportunity for the kind of prolixity which, to my mind, is all too common in his symphonies (I feel sure that by now, I shall have offended some readers!).

The ‘concise’ Bruckner is to be found, above all, in his motets. In the symphonies the affirmations of glory and the passages of spiritual radiance have to be discovered amidst very different materials, whereas they permeate every bar of the best of his motets. This, it seems to me, is a context in which that over-used slogan “small is best” really rings true. The thirty-four extant motets by Bruckner were written between 1835 (as an 11/12 year- old) and 1892 (four years before his death). Where Brahms, being a Protestant, found primary inspiration for his motets in those of Bach, the ardent Roman Catholic Bruckner turned to Renaissance polyphony, and to Palestrina in particular, for his models. Bruckner does not seem to have had, at any point, a formal relationship with the Cecilian movement for the reform of church music, but he clearly seems to have shared some of that movement’s important principles – such as the admiration of Palestrina and the belief that the structures of Gregorian chant should be fundamental to church music; Bruckner also shared the Cecilian dislike of over-theatrical church music. Such affinities are evident in motets like ‘Os Justi’, ‘Ave Maria’, ‘Locus iste’ and ‘Tota pulchra es Maria’.

Simple (though some have called it only ‘deceptively simple’) yet sublime, ‘Locus iste’ is a well-nigh perfect example of the motets written by the mature Bruckner, characteristic, that is, of the realization of those Brucknerian/Cecilian principles outlined above. The performance here by the Latvian Radio Choir brings out the distinctive qualities of the piece (and of the choir) – precise yet intense, fervent yet restrained, voices perfectly blended, with the basses wonderfully rich without the vocal balance being disturbed. Under the direction of Sigvards K?ava the result is both prayer-like and exalted, in the certainty of the faith expressed. ‘Locus iste’ was written for the dedication of theVotivkapelle (a beautiful chapel well worth visiting) at the new Cathedral in Linz (the building of which began in 1862). It was written in Vienna during Bruckner’s time as Professor of Harmony and Counterpoint at the Conservatory. It sets a three-line text – “Locus iste a Deo factus est, / inestimabile sacramentum, / irreprehensibilis est.”. (The text is drawn from Genesis 28:16 and Exodus 3:15). Bruckner’s setting begins in quiet calm, but still has a strong sense of confident affirmation. The strength of feeling gradually increases, but Bruckner avoids any sense of the excessively dramatic – the loudest dynamic marking is only mf. Yet, given the quietness around it, this is powerfully effective. Bruckner’s effects, indeed, are achieved very economically, as, when the first line is repeated, one is startled to find that the closing phase (“factus est”) is omitted and its place is taken by a beautiful melisma (the only one in the piece) on the word “Deo”. Lovely as the motet is, its power resides, in part, in what is not done, what is, as it were, held in reserve – a musical strategy which recognizes the divine power by being humble before it.

The use of the idiom of traditional chant – a fondness for which, as suggested earlier, Bruckner shared with the Cecilians – is especially successful in ‘Os Justi’. It is worth noting that this motet is dedicated to Ignaz Traumhiler, Regens Chori at The Abbey of St. Florian and an enthusiastic advocate of the Cecilian movement. As the booklet notes by J?nis Torg?ns observe, “in a feature that is quite striking for this period in Bruckner’s output (c.1875-1885), the piece combines the archaic colours of ancient modes (Lydian, Phrygian, etc.) with his [i.e. Bruckner’s] characteristic harmonic language.” The setting also includes, as Torg?ns points out, a clear allusion to the “‘faith’ motto from Parsifal” and “a marked and extensive fugato”. This, then, is a far more complex piece than ‘Locus iste’, a perfect example of multum in parvo, with so much happening, musically speaking, in a piece that takes little more than four minutes to sing. Such a mixture of ancient and modern in the work of one of our own contemporaries might seem like sophisticated postmodernism; in Bruckner it speaks of the pursuit of an idiom which is ‘outside time’. Put side by side, ‘Os Justi’ and the utter simplicity of Bruckner’s ‘Ave Maria’, and it is very clear how variously Bruckner makes use of the motet form. So, for example, in other motets Bruckner uses Phrygian resources to create pieces which are very much in the spirit of ancient chant, even if they don’t quote it directly – such as ‘Pangelingua et Tantum Ergo’, ‘Tota pulchra es Maria’ and ‘Vexilla Regis’ (all three are discussed in perceptive detail in Anthony F. Carver’s article ‘Bruckner and the Phrygian Mode’ in Music and Letters, 86 (1), 2005, pp.74-99).

Bruckner is, at times, both harmonically and dynamically adventurous in his motets. One vivid example of this is ‘Christus factus est’, in which violent dynamic contrasts (of a sort which Ignaz Traumhiler might not have approved of), such as that between the fff climax at “quod est super omne nomen” and the ppp at the very close of the motet. ‘Virga Jesse’ (written for Traumhiler) is also very dramatic. It begins quietly (p) and ends even more quietly (pp); in between there are several climaxes, each followed by a fermata. The result is highly expressive, a vivid musical embodiment of the emotions of the text – the gradual Virga Jesse floruit – not least in the wonderful closing Alleluia (bars 63-91).

The Kronstorfer Messe – an a cappella setting, minus Gloria and Credo – is an early work, written when Bruckner was a schoolteacher’s assistant in Kronstorf in Upper Austria in his twenties. It makes very clear his attachment to Palestrina – the brief discussion in James Garratt’s Palestrina and the German Romantic Imagination (CUP, 2004) is worth reading. It is performed very infrequently and has rarely been recorded. Even in a performance by a high-quality choir such as the Latvian Radio Choir, it isn’t hard to see why. The young Bruckner’s respect for tradition seems to inhibit him and the resulting work is relatively lifeless; it lacks the variety and vitality necessary to bring its four movements (Kyrie-Sanctus-Benedictus-Agnus Dei) fully alive. It is useful to have a well-sung recording of the work available (primarily as an aid to understanding Bruckner’s later development), but I can’t help wishing that the choice had been made to record more of Bruckner’s motets (perhaps ‘Inveni David’ and ‘Afferentur regi - see also below), rather than this pleasant but rather limited work.

The singers of the Latvian Radio Choir impress in every work on this disc. If I have a ‘complaint’ it concerns a matter of omission rather than commission. I very much regret the absence of ‘Ecce sacerdos magnus’, a favourite of mine since I first heard it more than 50 years ago.

Hitherto, I have most often turned to recordings of Bruckner’s motets on two Hyperion discs: by the Corydon Singers conducted by Matthew Best (CDA66062) and by Polyphony, directed by Stephen Layton (CDA67629). In future I shall be at least as likely (if not more so) to take this disc from my shelves.

– MusicWeb International (Glyn Pursglove)

Talivaldis Keninš (1919–2008) is a name that is not known to most classical listeners despite of his long international career as a composer. This album presents three orchestral works by one of Latvia’s greatest 20th century composers performed by the Latvian National Symphony Orchestra under the baton of Andris Poga and Guntis Kuzma.

Although born in Latvia, Keninš lived most of his life as an exile. He was educated in Paris, where he studied under Tony Aubin and Olivier Messiaen, and won several awards. Keninš emigrated to Canada in 1951and became a respected pedagogue and a very influential figure in Canada’s music life.

Alongside his pedagogic work he wrote a sizeable catalogue of works, including several symphonies and concertos. According to Keninš, chamber music was the highest form of art. His Concerto di camera No. 1 (1981) reveals his love for chamber music. The work contains hints of Bartók. The composer himself mentioned Mozart’s concertos as his model when writing the work. Concerto for Piano, Strings and Percussion (1990) was completed shortly after the composer’s first visit to Latvia since the 1940s. Latvia was struggling to regain its independence and the work has a particularly tense and tragic atmosphere. When the work was premiered in Canada, the composer drew attention to the events unfolding in his home country when describing the work. Keninš wrote his First Symphony in 1959. This expressive work represents well the element of Latvian folk music in the composer’s work fusing it together with contemporary elements. Upon its premiere, the work received several performances in Canada, including CBC radio broadcasts.

Andris Poga and the Latvian National Symphony Orchestra plunge into Keninš’ challenging idiom with a vengeance, turning in bracing, invigorating performances of both symphonies.

This third album release in the first complete Tālivaldis Ķeniņš (1919–2008) symphony cycle includes the composer’s final symphonic creation, Symphony No. 8, with a remarkable organ solo part performed by the award-winning organist Iveta Apkalna, alongside the composer’s dramatic and concise 5th Symphony, both conducted by Andris Poga and performed by the Latvian National Symphony Orchestra.

Tālivaldis Ķeniņš (1919–2008) wrote an impressive cycle of eight numbered symphonies. Especially the 1970s and the 1980s were fruitful years to Ķeniņš as a symphonist: both Ķeniņš’ 5th and 8th Symphonies were premiered in Toronto, the previous in 1976 and the latter in 1986. Ķeniņš 5th Symphony starts with a powerful orchestral climax and itis a work with dark undercurrents. However, here the composer balances with two different opposite materials: the robust, contemporary world meets a fairy tale landscape glittering with the magic of dusk in the Latvian countryside. The Symphony No. 8 lends itself to analysis but not to description. In this work, Ķeniņš has quite possibly attained his highest metaphysical peak. From the storms of the first part and some longed for unattainability, through the second part’s luminous chorale to the finale of the third part with its eight double and triple beats, concluding with a single beat and transcendence. This symphony-concerto for organ and orchestra calls for a combination of masterful solo organ skills. In addition to excellent technique and a deep understanding of complex forms, a fine sense of the organ’s registers is also required, so that the organ part can both blend and shine in a surprising balance of musical pattern and orchestral instrumentation.

REVIEW:

Tālivaldis Keninš (1919-2008) was born in Latvia, but spent the largest portion of his life in Canada, and his name turns up on recordings dedicated to the music of both countries. He was educated, however, in France, and his music definitely reveals the influence of his main source of inspiration, Arthur Honegger. There is that same seriousness of purpose, amounting to grimness, and a similar rugged, dissonant, vigorous idiom—only more so. Compared to his model, Keninš’ music is more percussive, less anchored in tonality, but still fundamentally melodic and at heart, lyrical. It definitely takes some getting used to, but many listeners will find it worth the effort.

The Fifth Symphony (1976) starts with a bang, and the tension scarcely lets up through four connected movements lasting about twenty minutes. Give Keninš credit for not overstaying his welcome and fatiguing his listeners with an excess of relentless, grinding turmoil. The Eighth Symphony (1986-his last) has a concertante part for organ, making for some truly scarifying climaxes alongside meditative passages of a more brooding, quasi-liturgical character. The Aria for strings impressed me least, being simply glum and grey.

However, I have to say that Andris Poga and the Latvian National Symphony Orchestra plunge into Keninš’ challenging idiom with a vengeance, turning in bracing, invigorating performances of both symphonies, very well-recorded. Iveta Apkaina presides over an appropriately forbidding sounding organ, and the ultimate impression is that of a kind of purgative tantrum. You may not want to hear it every day, but there are circumstances when this sort of thing might be just the ticket.

-- ClassicsToday.com (Dsvid Hurwitz)

On this album, Peter Jablonski’s third for Ondine, the pianist presents Grażyna Bacewicz’s (1909–1969) dazzling piano etudes and sonatas, barely known outside her native Poland. Jablonski’s albums have received an enthusiastic response and his previous release received Editor’s Choice from Gramophone magazine.

In recent years the music of Grażyna Bacewicz has been enjoying increasing popularity in concert hall programs. Bacewicz was a major Polish composer and a versatile musician: a child prodigy violinist, she was also an accomplished pianist. As a composer, she is known for her inventive, complex, and original musical language, and particularly many of her works for violin are well known. Bacewicz studied first at the Warsaw Conservatory and briefly continued her studies in Paris before returning back home. In 1934, she received a position of concertmaster at the Polish Radio Orchestra. This position proved invaluable to her as a composer, giving her insights into each instrument’s possibilities and orchestral composition. Her music displays many characteristic traits of the twentieth-century that are to be heard in the writings of Prokofiev, Shostakovich, Bartók, and Lutosławski, among others. Jablonski’s piano album covers only eight short years during which the works presented here were composed and brings together, for the first time, both piano sonatas, and both sets of etudes. Sonata No. 1 for solo piano was composed in 1949, but went unpublished for over seventy years until Peter Jablonski edited it for PWM.

REVIEWS:

The two-fold pleasure of this release is experiencing the interesting if unfamiliar music of an important woman composer, played by a pianist in the full flower of his mature, imaginative artistry.

-- Gramophone (Editor's Choice, March 2022)

Bacewicz’s imagination is vast—as Jablonski’s stunning, post-Lisztian performance reveals… He persuades us that Bacewicz’s Etudes are up there with the great sets (Chopin, Liszt, Ligeti)…this is a very valuable release.

--International Piano

There’s a sense of Bacewicz’s compositional imagination really taking wing in these pieces, and Jablonski commits to her vision. The First Sonata feels full of ambition, and Jablonski draws out all of its rhythmic and emotional complexity.

--BBC Music Magazine

Graźyna Bacewicz was probably the most important Polish composer between Szymanowski and Lutosławski...she was also an excellent pianist, good enough to perform in public on this instrument also, and she composed a fair amount for it. There is too much to fit onto one disc and so all recordings of her piano music have involved choices.

Peter Jablonski has made an excellent choice here. Indeed, I think he has chosen the best of her piano music, which has involved excluding some attractive but lesser works.

I have nothing but praise for the Swedish pianist Peter Jablonski’s performances here. Not only is he in full command of the many notes and often complex textures but he articulates them and makes them musical. There are good notes (in English only) and the recorded sound is excellent. This is now the Bacewicz piano recital to go for.

--MusicWeb International (Stephen Barber)

This splendid disc will appeal both to piano mavens and fans of good twentieth-century music alike. Grazyna Bacewicz (1909-69) was a very distinguished composer, and although better known (perhaps) for her solo violin pieces, she had a real feel for keyboard sonority and color. All of the music on this splendidly played disc is worth hearing.

You can listen to this first-rate disc straight through without a moment’s hesitation. It should win her many friends, I should think, not just for Jablonski’s excellent interpretations, but also for Ondine’s gorgeous sonics.

--ClassicsToday.com

Brilliant playing of music that belongs firmly in the concert repertoire.

Of all the female 20th-century composers whose work is now being rediscovered and reassessed, the Polish composer Grażyna Bacewicz (1909-1969) may be the most accomplished and individual. Once a child prodigy on drums, Jablonski’s rhythm is rock solid, but he is also capable of creating a flow. His dazzling, sympathetic performances are tremendous.

--Limelight

This second Ondine recording of music by Žibuoklė Martinaitytė (b. 1973) is devoted exclusively to works scored for string orchestra, all of which were composed in the last three years. These works are performed by the Lithuanian Chamber Orchestra, one of the most internationally well-known orchestras from Lithuania, conducted by Karolis Variakojis. Based in New York City, Martinaitytė has begun to be recognized in the United States as well as throughout Europe; recently her orchestral work Saudade was performed on a subscription concert by the New York Philharmonic. Martinaitytė continues to refine her carefully crafted musical compositions which are equally inspired by the external natural world and internal psychological realms, but which are all filtered through her desire to create music that, first and foremost, is beautiful.

REVIEW:

The two opening works Nunc fluens. Nunc stans (which also features percussion) and Ex tenebris lux explore ideas of time and change, conveying gradual shifts in mood through subtle fluctuations in musical colour and texture. There follows the substantial four-movement work Sielunmaisema. Each of the work’s movements is named after a season, while the title itself draws on a Finnish word for ‘soul-landscape, a particular place that a person carries deep in the heart and returns to often in memory’. Thus each movement is a ‘sonic portrait of the composer’s internal responses to the four seasons’, from the brittle and percussive rigour of ‘Winter’ to the humming, drone-like warmth of ‘Summer’. Performed with great flair by the Lithuanian Chamber Orchestra, this excellent disc offers a welcome introduction to Martinaitytė ’s compelling and transporting music.

-- BBC Music Magazine

Fine performances, yes, but also a comprehensive, watertight Sibelius album to cherish.

Conductor Nicholas Collon began as the new Chief Conductor of the Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra in September 2021. This all-Sibelius program, carefully selected by the conductor, is his debut album together with his new orchestra. Collon offers fresh and modern interpretation of Sibelius’ symphonic testament, the 7th Symphony, and brings to life the color and drama of Sibelius’ incidental music for two plays – Maeterlinck’s famous Pelléas et Mélisande and the historic King Christian II.

The Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra (FRSO) is the orchestra of the Finnish Broadcasting Company (Yle), and its mission is to produce and promote Finnish musical culture. The Radio Orchestra of ten players founded in 1927 grew to symphony orchestra proportions in the 1960s. Its Chief Conductors have been Toivo Haapanen, Nils-Eric Fougstedt, Paavo Berglund, Okko Kamu, Leif Segerstam, Jukka-Pekka Saraste, Sakari Oramo, Hannu Lintu, and as of autumn 2021 Nicholas Collon. In addition to the great Classical-Romantic masterpieces, the latest contemporary music is a major item in the repertoire of the FRSO, which each year premieres a number of Yle commissions.

REVIEW:

This is a rooted performance of Sibelius’s last symphony from the first non-Finn to lead the orchestra of the Finnish Broadcasting Company, one with true gravitas but little grandstanding.

Everything is clear in Collon’s recording but the moving parts heave despite the sure momentum, giving the discourse a visceral edge. The slight burgeoning of each note in the trombone motto, which blossoms but is traced more than declaimed, is indicative of the bigger picture: careful, sure but unobtrusive phrasing that moves the music on while conveying, especially in the final pages, the wrenching strain that is the essential precursor to that final, pained C major. Laura Heikinheimo’s sound is ideal in conveying the sense of gravitational, inevitable progress.

‘Élégie’ from King Christian II and ‘The Death of Melisande’ from Pelleas and Melisande need a special tenderness and space and get it but there are numbers in which Collon sounds absorbed by Sibelius’s creation of miniature structural marvels. Rarely have I heard the ‘Nocturne’ from King Christian II come to fruition like a miniature Symphony No 2, nor its ‘Ballade’ sound like a little sister to Pohjola’s Daughter.

But this is theater music and Collon sacrifices no greasepaint in his pursuit of structural logic. Perhaps it’s the cool finesse of the FRSO woodwinds, in particular, that succeed in drawing us into a sense of collective history in the old dances and old instruments (or imitations thereof) that characterize the music for King Christian II. It takes considered playing and extreme focus to reflect the ambiguities and fleeting emptiness of Pelleas. The broad bow strokes of ‘At the Castle Gate’, the steady withdrawal of ‘The Death of Melisande’ and the sinister lapping of ‘At the Seashore’ all speak of musicians well inside this music and determined to think patiently about its particular colors. Fine performances, yes, but also a comprehensive, watertight Sibelius album to cherish.

-- Gramophone

Conductor Robert Trevino’s fourth album release on Ondine is focused on the late works of composer Einojuhani Rautavaara (1928–2016), one of Finland’s most celebrated composers after Sibelius and known worldwide for his Neo-Romantic, even mystic compositions. Together with violinist Simone Lamsma and the Malmö Symphony Orchestra the artists are presenting four final orchestral works by the celebrated composer.

Two of the works are world première recordings. In his late period, Rautavaara received several communications from the world’s leading violinists requesting him to write works for them. He was able to oblige them, creating several extensive works featuring solo violin. Fantasia (2015) for violin and orchestra is a work of soft Neo-Romantic harmonies and soaring melodic lines. In 2014, Rautavaara was asked to write a new Violin Concerto. This commission resulted in Deux Sérénades for violin and orchestra which remained unfinished at Rautavaara’s death: the second movement was sketched out, but only its beginning was orchestrated. Kalevi Aho, an accomplished composer of symphonies and concertos who studied composition with Rautavaara at the turn of the 1970s, fleshed out the orchestration in 2018. Lost Landscapes (2005/15) was originally written as a violin sonata, but Rautavaara began orchestrating the work in 2013. The first movement was premiered at the contemporary music festival at Tanglewood in July 2015, but the full premiere of the work took place in Malmö in March 2021, with Simone Lamsma as soloist. In the Beginning (2015) is a concise overture-type work commissioned for a concert opener. The titles of his works were important for the composer, forming part of the ‘aura’ of the work and often even constituting the initial impulse for writing the piece in the first place.

REVIEWS:

There is a transcendent intensity to Rautavaara’s music which is heightened by this writing for strings. All of the music here is relatively recent, the earliest from 2005, but here rearranged for these forces. Lost Landscapes, Fantasia, In the Beginning and Deux Serenades (completed by Kalevi Aho, after the composer’s death) are the four works here. Music to be immersed in and a fitting presentation of some of Rautavaara’s last work.

-- Lark Reviews

All these violin concertante works are attractive, but they are also all rather similar, and there is a preponderance of slow music. So they are best not listened to all at the same time. In the Beginning is different: it shows another side of the composer and perhaps has the best music on the disc.

We have a cosmopolitan team here. The soloist, Simone Lamsma is Dutch, has performed widely and already made a number of recordings. Robert Trevino is American and is a rising star. The Malmö Symphony Orchestra is one of Sweden’s leading orchestras. They all provide assured performances. The recording is sympathetic and the booklet informative. The Fantasia and Deux Sérénades have each been recorded by their commissioners but coupled with different composers, so the Rautavaara fan will find this the most convenient way to collect these works.

-- MusicWeb International

This new album release by the Latvian Radio Choir and conductor Sigvards Kļava on Ondine is devoted to choral works by the legendary American composer and music pioneer John Cage (1912–1992), one of the most leading figures in 20th Century music. John Cage is the dictionary definition of an avant-garde composer. Choral music and John Cage might seem like an odd pairing. And indeed, strictly speaking, Cage wrote only two compositions for chorus, both of which appear on this album: Hymns and Variations (1979) and Four2 (1990). The other works on the album are written for ensembles that are more or less open-ended and which have been interpreted here for choral forces. One reason Cage and choruses did not mix well may have been his notorious hostility to harmony in music. Arnold Schoenberg told Cage that he lacked any feeling for harmony, and that this would be a wall between him and his goal of being a composer. Given all this, it is no wonder that Cage and choruses didn’t tend to mingle together. And so it was not until Cage was 67 years old that he wrote his first work for choral forces: Hymns and Variations.

REVIEWS:

John Cage was barely a choral composer. But by combining the couple of pieces he wrote for chorus with a creative interpretation of the flexible instrumentation of a few other scores, you can arrive at an hour or so of mysterious, wordless music for vocal ensemble. “Hymns and Variations” (1979) is the earliest work on this intimate and luminous new album from the Latvian Radio Choir. Cage subtracts some notes from two hymns by the early American composer William Billings, and extends the duration of some that remain, creating an eerily pure, serene suggestion of 18th-century harmonies.

--The New York Times

That Cage delighted in provoking audiences is undoubtable, but his mischief concealed his seriousness of purpose. He revealed and explored a vast New World of sound which had hitherto been a terra incognita of the mind. But above all, Cage was a tireless proselytizer of the gospel of beauty and created some of the 20th century’s most radically beautiful music. These strands are united here in this breathtaking collection from Ondine of some of the composer’s late choral music performed by the Latvian Radio Choir.

--MusicWeb International

John Cage and choral music might seem strange bedfellows, but there was no corner of the musical landscape that this dedicated breaker of composition rules didn’t want to deconstruct. With its drifting, otherworldly textures, Five, from 1988, could almost have come from the soundtrack of 2001: A Space Odyssey, while Four2, astonishingly written for a high school choir, includes a tonal tenor and bass pairing, oozing quite unexpected calm.

[One] can’t but be stunned by the fearless skill of Sigvards Kļava’s choir as they navigate the most jagged, fragmented notes and pitches—the musical equivalent of climbing Mount Everest just with your hands and feet.

--BBC Music Magazine

There are, I think, two possible approaches to this recording. One is simply to listen through it and let the effect of the (very different) pieces on it wash over one, reacting to each in turn. The other is to read the excellent booklet notes by James Pritchett and then listen to the music, following in more or less detail what he explains in them. Either process would work, because the music is intrinsically interesting and frequently very impressive. It must be said as well that the singers sound as though they are enjoying themselves enormously.

--Gramophone

In this new concerto album one of the greatest violinists of his generation, Christian Tetzlaff, offers profound interpretations of two deeply dramatic and lyrical concertos – those of Brahms and Berg – together with the Deutsches Symphonie-Orchester Berlin conducted by Robin Ticciati.

“Reasons of substance justify the recording of the Violin Concertos of Johannes Brahms and Alban Berg on a single album: both works concern existential human states of being. For me, the concerto by Johannes Brahms is a work that in a violin concerto dares to address very dangerous, abysmal, and profound states of the soul. Here an enormous contrast between ecstasy and total lonely isolation is in evidence. (...) Brahms also has a lot to say about pain. That’s rare in violin concertos – and links the Brahms concerto to the one by Alban Berg. I’ve been playing both concertos for 40 years – and I’ve played both of them, taken together, much more than 300 times. Here it seems to me as though the experience of these pieces changes one’s own life.” (Christian Tetzlaff)

REVIEWS:

This is a master violinist at the height of his powers. Teztlaff's playing demonstrates the range of emotion that each work requires. Needless to say, he is wholly in command of the technical demands of each work. The balance between soloists and orchestra is good.

-- MusicWeb International

Tetzlaff’s performance of the Brahms Concerto is brisk, and his interpretation at times feels very much of the moment. The first movement’s second subject is deliciously languid, but always moving onwards, and he develops increasing excitement and momentum in the build-up to the great tutti.

-- The Strad

In the Autumn of 2021, the Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra together with its new chief conductor, Nicholas Collon, arranged a Thomas Adès festival in Helsinki devoted to the world famous composer’s music in addition to works by other composers chosen and conducted by Thomas Adès (b. 1971). One of the highlights of the festival’s program was the world première of Märchentänze in its version for violin and orchestra performed by violinist Pekka Kuusisto, Adès’ long-time artistic partner. This new album by the Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra includes four recent and exciting orchestral works written by the composer between 2016 and 2021 in world première recordings.

In addition to the Märchentänze, this album includes Adès’ orchestral Hotel Suite from Powder Her Face, an adaptation based on the music from the opera through which Adès first made a widespread name for himself in the mid-1990s. The orchestral version of Lieux retrouvés, originally written for Steven Isserlis, could be described as a cello concerto in the spirit of Marcel Proust. Orchestral work Dawn was written for the 2020 London Proms for ‘orchestra at any distance’, due to the coronavirus pandemic. Adès’ Dawn comes across as timeless music floating in a serene universe of beauty all its own.

REVIEW:

These performances by the Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra (FRSO) under their current Chief Conductor, British-born-and-trained Nicholas Collon (b. 1983) are magnificent and bring out all the subtle colorations in these superbly scored works. That said, Finnish violinist Pekka Kuusisto gets a big hand for his superb playing in Märchentänze [T-10 thru 13]. And the same goes for Finnish cellist Tomas Nuñez in Lieux retrouvés [T-6 thru 9].

The recordings were made in October 2021 (Hotel… & Lieux…) and April-May 2022 (Märchentänze & Dawn) in the Helsinki Music Center’s Concert Hall. They present consistently generous, dynamically wide-ranging sonic images with both soloists centered, well captured and effectively highlighted. As for the orchestral timbre, it’s characterized by titillating highs, a pleasant midrange and clean bass. While these recordings are good on headphones, this colorfully scored music is even better over a good home theater system.

-- Classical Lost and Found (Bob McQuiston)

Cellist Wilhelmina Smith’s second album release on Ondine continues exploring contemporary Nordic repertoire for solo cello. In her new album Smith has focus on Danish contemporary composers, Per Nørgård (b. 1932) and Poul Ruders (b. 1949). Both Nørgård and Ruders are known for their large-scale orchestral works. Nørgård, in particular, is known for his eight symphonies and has been hailed by many as one of the greatest living symphonists. It is therefore intriguing to look closer to his two very early lyrical solo cello sonatas, early masterpieces written just before completing his 1st Symphony. In 1980, the composer revised his second sonata by adding an extensive second movement, almost an entirely new sonata, to the existing work. Nørgård’s 3rd sonata “What – Is the Word!” from 1999 is a short “Sonata breve” that takes its title from a quote by Irish playwriter Samuel Beckett. Another major Danish composer of our times, Poul Ruders (b. 1949), has also written 5 symphonies alongside several concertos and three operas. Ruders wrote his 10-movement Bravourstudien in 1976, just at the brink of a major stylistic change. This work is a set of variations on a Medieval folk tune “L’homme armé”. In this work, however, the original theme is heard at the very end of the work.

Internationally acclaimed Swedish pianist Peter Jablonski is known as a fervent champion of Polish music. In this album Jablonski returns to some of his dearest piano music – Chopin’s Mazurkas. For Chopin, the Mazurkas became a deeply personal, intimate statement of his feelings as an émigré Polish composer living in Paris. From some of his very first compositions to his last, it is the only form that Chopin composed regularly throughout his life. Similarly, Chopin’s Mazurkas have followed Peter Jablonski throughout his entire career as a pianist in nearly every solo recital.

REVIEW:

Peter Jablonski is no stranger to Chopin’s Mazurkas, having recorded the Opp 6, 24, 50 and 68 groups in 2008. He’s now setting down the complete Chopin Mazurkas for Ondine.

This first volume reveals an authoritative, idiomatic, and individual stylist. He’s generally an epic, large-scale player who favors a wide range of dynamics and articulations. He can be yieldingly lyrical, yet he’s not afraid to get dirt underneath his fingernails.

He playfully inflects the cross-rhythmic phrases in the central section of the B flat Op 17 No 1. While he takes his time over the A minor Op 17 No 4’s decorative tracery, his grounded tempo is fluid and flexible.

Each of Op 30 No 2’s echoed phrases has its own character and color, words that succinctly describe Jablonski’s edgy way with No 3. The tension and release of No 4’s trills wouldn’t be out of place in Scriabin. Op 33 No 2 is not especially fast yet it still conveys boisterous lilt, and with very little sustain pedal for the most part. Jablonski’s effectively understated Op 33 No 3 sets the stage for a strikingly contrasted and personalised B minor No 4. An angular, questioning take on the short and swift B major Mazurka stands out in the well-played Op 41 group.

Needless to say, I look forward to this excellently engineered and annotated release’s follow-up volume.

-- Gramophone (Jed Distler)

Robert Trevino’s first album together the Basque National Orchestra featuring orchestral works by the great French-Basque composer Maurice Ravel (1875–1937) received an excellent response. The program in this second volume is perhaps more ‘French’ in nature, but the Basque orchestra is giving dazzling performances of these works by their own national composer. While the first album was focused on some of Ravel’s most popular orchestral works, this album includes some rarities, including Ma mère l’Oye (Mother Goose) in its complete ballet version, as well as one world première recording: Pierre Boulez’s orchestration of Ravel’s World War I-era piano work, Frontispice.

REVIEW:

Can we ever have enough Ravel? Certainly not when the performances are this good. For the second disc in his traversal of Ravel’s orchestral works, Robert Trevino and the Basque National Orchestra offer an enticing mix of familiar and unfamiliar items. You get an aptly crystalline performance of the elusive Valses nobles et sentimentales, fortified by an appealing lightness of rhythm, followed by the zillionth version of the unkillable Menuet antique. Frontispice, a tiny “avant-garde” work originally written for piano five-hands, and here orchestrated by Pierre Boulez, comes off sounding very much like, well, Pierre Boulez. So now we know where he got much of his own inspiration.

The Shéhérazade Overture, Ravel’s first big orchestral work, seldom gets played and the reasons aren’t surprising. It’s long (14 minutes here), kind of formless, and lacking in memorable ideas, but of course the orchestration is marvelous and it’s good to have such a vivid new recording and performance. Finally, there’s the complete Mother Goose ballet, one of Ravel’s major masterpieces. This version is gorgeous, nicely flowing in the main numbers, and full of atmosphere in the evocative interludes between them. Trevino wisely refuses to sentimentalize the concluding “Fairy Garden,” which sounds so much more touching for just that reason. In short, this is a lovely, interesting program that offers far more than the “same old Ravel.” It’s a keeper.

-- ClassicsToday.com (David Hurwitz)

Pawel Łukaszewski (b. 1968) is possibly the most-performed contemporary composer from Poland. His spiritual choral works are performed by both professional and amateur choirs around the world. Łukaszewski’s output has a significant position in Great Britain where his works are performed and premiered by renowned London and Cambridge choral ensembles. This new album by the award-winning State Choir LATVIJA under Maris Sirmais includes several world première recordings from the Polish master.

REVIEW:

The performances presented here by the State Choir of Latvia under its conductor, Māris Sirmais, are simply outstanding. At what seems to be about 50 voices, the choir is larger than a chamber choir but smaller than a symphonic choir, and it manages to combine the virtues of both in this tremendously impressive recital. The choir has no faults to my ear. Intonation and ensemble are excellent, all parts exhibit outstanding internal blend with no individual voices sticking out, and excessive vibrato – the bane of choral excellence – is non-existent. The choir exhibits an extreme dynamic range, and yet at both ends of that spectrum its technical control never wavers, whether at fff – where it can produce an immense sound with no sign of hardness – or when reduced to more soloistic proportions. The recording is well up to the challenge that such an ensemble presents, and the sound is rich, deep, resonant, and detailed all at once.

-- Fanfare

This new album by the Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra focuses on works by Perttu Haapanen (b. 1972), one of the most important and interesting Finnish composers of his generation. It includes a recently-written Flute Concerto with Yuki Koyama as soloist and conducted by Dima Slobodeniouk, and two other works conducted by Hannu Lintu: a song-cycle written for soprano Helena Juntunen and an orchestral work, Compulsion Island, written for the Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra. Compulsion Island was written to a commission from the Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra and makes full use of the resources of a full-sized symphony orchestra. Haapanen creates a multi-layered and richly sonorous texture where extended instrument techniques play a significant and carefully considered role. Quiet, stagnant and expectant yet tense moments alternate with charged and punchy rhythmical passages that increase in force until the final culmination, followed by a subsiding, dreamlike and unreal epilogue. The Flute Concerto lasts about 25 minutes and is in a single movement divided into two halves featuring different materials, according to the composer. At the surface level, it comes across as a flexible and elastic structure consisting of several short sections in rapid succession, with contrasting moods either alternating or superimposed. The palette of sonorities is rich, augmented by extended instrument techniques and a number of rare sound sources such as a typewriter producing crisp rhythms and the absurd sounds of wheezing toys. Ladies’ Room for soprano and chamber orchestra was written to a commission from the Musica nova Helsinki festival. Originally written and premiered in 2007 by Helena Juntunen, it was revised by Haapanen in the following year. The texts come from a wide variety of sources: poems by conductor and mezzosoprano Jutta Seppinen, the Bible, Google, the archives of Scotland Yard and Paul Celan. Between them are four nonsense text settings that pay homage to Adolf Wolfli, an early 20th-century Swiss artist. The soprano part is highly demanding due to its wide range of vocal techniques which make Ladies’ Room a vocal virtuoso work where the virtuoso component is an integral part of the content.