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SaleNeeme Jarvi - Highlights From A Remarkable 30 Year Recording Career
Chandos · Jul 2012CD$21.99$10.99 -
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Bruch: Violin Concerto No 1, Romanze, String Quintet / Gluzman, Litton, Bergen PO
BIS · Mar 2011SACD$21.99 -
Piano Concertos Nos. 20 & 12; Rondo for Piano in D Major, K.
Challenge Classics · Nov 2025CD$16.99 -
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SaleGrieg, Strauss & Fauré: 1883 - Music for Cello & Piano / Croisé, Shevchenko
Avie Records · Nov 2023CD$19.99$9.99 -
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SaleMozart: Piano Concertos, Vol. 5 - K. 175, 271 & 246; Overtures / Bavouzet
Chandos · Mar 2020CD$43.99$21.98 -
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Elgar: King Olaf, The Banner of Saint George / Davis, Bergen
Reviews:
What a nice idea it was to have a Norwegian choir and orchestra performing English music about a Norse hero. The combined Norwegian choirs sing very well indeed in both works, and the Bergen Philharmonic plays with verve and distinction. Sir Andrew Davis is just the man for these assignments.
– MusicWeb International
There's nothing stilted about Elgar's music: it crackles with confident vitality...the Norwegian choruses respond with crisp vigor and superb English diction, only faintly (and appropriately) Scandinavian-tinged. Davis's expansive conducting and the excellent Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra bring out Elgar's vivid orchestral textures.
– BBC Music Magazine
Neeme Jarvi - Highlights From A Remarkable 30 Year Recording Career
This year, we celebrate the thirty-year conducting career of Neeme Järvi with Chandos records, as well as the conductor’s own seventy-fifth birthday. Chandos marks the occasion with this two-disc set of highlights, featuring a varied selection of concert hall rarities and core classics, along with some popular showpieces and examples of Järvi’s championing of Estonian and American music. Gramophone said of his recently concluded Halvorsen series, “Järvis finds in the music a drama and pathos that might come as a revelation even to the composer.”
Tchaikovsky: Swan Lake / Jarvi, Bergen
As has been noted in previous reviews of recordings of Tchaikovsky’s “complete” Swan Lake , there may well be as many different versions of the score as there have been productions of it. The problem is that Swan Lake is both the earliest (1875–1876) and the longest of the composer’s three great ballets, and it has had so many cooks adding their own ingredients, removing others, and generally revising the recipe that no one can say for sure what made up the original soufflé.
The generally known and accepted facts are these: The ballet, with original choreography by Julius Reisinger, was staged for the first time in February, 1877 by the Bolshoi Ballet at Moscow’s Bolshoi Theater. It was not well received; audience and critics alike felt it was too long and convoluted, its music too heavy, and its libretto, adapted from a story by a German author, an affront to Russian sensibilities. And thus began the tinkering and tampering. By the time the work was revived in 1895 by the Imperial Ballet at St. Petersburg’s Mariinsky Theater there was new choreography by Marius Petipa and Lev Ivanov, along with major musical revisions to the score by the Imperial Theater’s conductor and composer, Riccardo Drigo. It should be noted that by the time of the 1895 revival, Tchaikovsky was dead and had no hand in the new performing version. Tchaikovsky and Drigo had worked together previously, but according to accounts, they didn’t agree on much of anything and their relationship was strained.
The upshot of all this is that there is no definitive Swan Lake . It was no longer a ballet by one composer, but rather a group effort; and you know the saying about a camel being a horse designed by a committee. It’s important to bear this in mind when considering the various recordings of Swan Lake that claim to be complete, for the drastic differences in timings cannot be explained by mere tempo differences alone. There have to be other factors involved, such as omission of some movements, cuts to others, and/or reliance on differing versions/editions. Let’s look at the timings of several well-known recordings, sorted in order by duration.
| Conductor | Orchestra | Label | Timing |
| Valery Gergiev | St. Petersburg Mariinsky O | Decca | 106.59 |
| Antál Dorati | Minneapolis SO | Mercury | 131:41 |
| Felix Slatkin | St. Louis SO | RCA | 141:00 |
| Mikhail Pletnev | Russian National O | Ondine | 142.52 |
| Dmitri Yablonsky | Russian State SO | Naxos | 148:38 |
| Michael Tilson Thomas | London SO | Sony | 149:05 |
| Mark Ermler | Royal Opera House O | Conifer | 153.03 |
| André Previn | London SO | EMI | 153:02 |
| Charles Dutoit | Montréal SO | Decca | 153:56 |
| Neeme Järvi | Bergen PO | Chandos | 154:41 |
| Wolfgang Sawallisch | Philadelphia O | EMI | 158:45 |
Right off the bat, I need to offer a disclaimer: My personal familiarity with the above-listed recordings is limited to only four of them—Gergiev, Pletnev, Yablonsky, and now this new one by Järvi. Of the four, Gergiev’s version is the worst in terms of the hatchet job it does on the score. Movements are reordered—for example, the act I Waltz has been moved to act III and its ending abridged—and it’s full of egregious cuts—some 40 minutes of music are sacrificed. Gergiev’s Swan Lake is presumptively based on the Mariinsky performing version; i.e., the above-mentioned Drigo edition prepared for the 1895 St. Petersburg revival.
Looking at Pletnev’s timing of 142:52 vs. Yablonsky’s 148:58 and Järvi’s 154:41, it seems pretty obvious that that while tempo differences over the course of two and a half hours could account for the difference of approximately six minutes between Pletnev and Yablonsky and, in turn, between Yablonsky and Järvi, they’re unlikely to be the cause of the approximately 12-minute difference between Pletnev and Järvi.
Upon closer examination of all three recordings, what I found was that Yablonsky and Järvi both include two often dropped numbers from act III, the Pas de deux that was written after the fact specifically for Anna Sobeshchanskaya, and the “Danse Russe,” added specifically for Pelageya Karpakova. Pletnev omits these two additions, as do a number of others. Whether they should be included or not is a rather complex question.
Ballerinas of the day were not much different from their opera diva counterparts in terms of their egos. They had no shame when it came to demanding custom cadenzas to show off their voices or, in the case of danseuses, their fancy footwork and frilly tutus. The story surrounding Sobeshchanskaya and her Pas de deux is especially messy and borders on scandal. Originally picked to dance the lead role of Odette (the Swan) for the 1877 premiere, Sobeshchanskaya was ignominiously dropped from the cast at the last minute when a high-placed government official with whom she’d had a dalliance accused her of having taken expensive jewelry from him and then pawned it when she married a fellow danseur. On the spur of the moment, she was replaced by Pelageya Karpakova. Sobeshchanskaya survived the indignity and went on to dance the title role when the ballet was staged again a month later with no greater success than at its premiere.
But the intrigue didn’t end there. The ballerina made no bones about the fact that she hated both the choreography and the music, and so off she went to St. Petersburg, where she engaged Petipa to choreograph a new Pas de deux for her that would replace the third act’s Grand pas. Petipa complied and choreographed the new number to music, not by Tchaikovsky, but by Ludwig Minkus, the Imperial Ballet’s composer in residence.
When news of this change reached Tchaikovsky, he was miffed; his ego was probably bigger than Sobeshchanskaya’s. How dare she?! He was the composer, and he alone should take credit (or discredit) for the music. After some smoothing of his ruffled feathers, Tchaikovsky agreed to compose the music himself for Petipa’s new Pas de deux , but there was a problem. Tchaikovsky’s new music didn’t synch up with Petipa’s choreography, and Sobeshchanskaya, now back in Moscow, wasn’t about to travel back to St. Petersburg to go through the whole exercise again. She didn’t seem to care much one way or the other about the music, but she was adamant about keeping Petipa’s choreographed number. How exactly Tchaikovsky was prevailed upon to discard his newly composed music and essentially start over, this time following the outlines and rhythmic steps of Minkus’s music is not explained, but that’s what Tchaikovsky did. So, this particular episode apparently had a satisfactory ending for all involved, except, I suspect, for Minkus who surely must have felt put out. The original Grand pas with music by Tchaikovsky was replaced by Sobeshchanskaya’s Pas de deux with music first by Minkus and then by Tchaikovsky.
Based on the foregoing, it would seem that there is every reason to include this number in complete performances of the ballet, yet many conductors, Pletnev among them, don’t. The situation regarding the “Danse Russe” (Russian Dance) is much simpler and appears to be the reverse; it’s one of deletion rather than addition. It was composed for and included in the original 1877 version of the score danced by Karpakova, the premiere’s last-minute substitute for Sobeshchanskaya. The number was then removed for subsequent performances in which Sobeshchanskaya took over the role, for reasons one can easily guess. If two competing sopranos could bitch-slap each other on stage during a production of a Handel opera, there was no telling what professional jealousy might provoke between two rival ballerinas.
This describes only some of the butchery that turned Tchaikovsky’s finely feathered swan into a plucked chicken. It’s well to remember, however, that Swan Lake was not only the composer’s first completed ballet, it was really his first major stage undertaking to survive the ravages of time, even if not entirely intact. He was working on his opera Eugene Onegin at the same time, his first opera to achieve success; and though there had been earlier operatic efforts— The Voyevoda, Undina, The Oprichnik , and Vakula the Smith —they were either destroyed by the composer, recycled, later revised, or didn’t stir much interest at the time. Thus, at 37, Tchaikovsky’s greatest works still lay ahead of him, and he had yet to achieve the self-confidence that fame would bring him to be able to just say no to those who would mess with his music.
Neeme Järvi’s Swan Lake follows his Sleeping Beauty , reviewed in 36:5. I would expect to see a Nutcracker in the near future, perhaps timed to coincide with Christmas (I’m writing this in November 2013). My only objection to Järvi’s Sleeping Beauty was his somewhat business-like approach, which struck me as missing some of the music’s fairy magic. But the Bergen Philharmonic’s polished playing, James Ehnes’s ravishing violin solos, and Chandos’s thrilling multi-channel SACD recording offered much allure.
On relistening to that release, and in listening to this present one, in which Järvi, Ehnes, the Bergen orchestra, and Chandos repeat their earlier accomplishment, it occurred to me that my criticism of Järvi wasn’t entirely fair. There are two ways to conduct a ballet performance for a strictly audio recording. You can approach it as a concert work, in which case you will tend to emphasize the melodic, harmonic, and structural elements of the score, or you can approach it as a suite of dances, in which case you will emphasize the music’s rhythmic and terpsichorean aspects. Järvi falls into the former camp, and there’s nothing wrong in that, as long as he’s not directing a live production of the actual ballet, in which tempo, pacing, and phrasing need to be molded more flexibly to accommodate the movements of the dancers.
I can’t say absolutely that this is the most authoritatively complete Swan Lake on record, though in taking up the original 1877 score and including additional material supplied by Tchaikovsky himself for subsequent performances, Järvi gives us a version that’s certainly more complete than are a number of others. What I can say is that of the four recordings of the score with which I’m familiar, Järvi’s would now be my first choice, and taking all other factors into account—superb playing by the Bergen Philharmonic, James Ehnes’s beguiling solo violin contributions, and a killer recording—I’d extrapolate from this that Järvi’s Swan Lake is now the one to have.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Prokofiev: Symphony No 5 / Litton, Bergen
Then there’s the stiff competition; Neeme Järvi’s much-celebrated cycle for Chandos springs to mind, as does Dmitri Kitaienko’s for Phoenix Edition. Sakari Oramo’s Ondine Fifth and Sixth mustn’t be overlooked either. All offer very different views of the Fifth, Prokofiev’s great wartime symphony, and that in itself suggests the work responds well to opposing interpretations. Oramo’s is a case in point, for he taps into a vein of lyricism that others don’t always find. He also has a very transparent recording that exposes much of the score’s inner workings.
The Järvi Fifth dates from the conductor’s halcyon days with the RSNO – then the Scottish National Orchestra – which yielded particularly memorable recordings of Richard Strauss, Shostakovich and Prokofiev. Revisiting his Prokofiev Fifth after a long break I discovered the performance has all the spunk and spike that I remember, although the treble is fiercer and the big moments are rougher than I recall. I have no such qualms about his Scythian Suite – coupled with a white-hot Alexander Nevsky – which is my benchmark for the piece.
Litton’s Andante is powerful enough, but alongside Järvi and Kitaienko it takes a little while to limber up. Admittedly, this is the kind of music that lends itself to large, gruff gestures, but as Oramo’s forensic reading confirms there’s more to this score than that. For sheer excitement, though, Järvi is hard to beat; as for Kitaienko he plays the music with a a bold, deep-rooted conviction that’s impressive too. Litton isn’t quite so overt, so visceral, but I soon came to realise that's no bad thing. The recording is exceptionally vivid, although there's an occasional hardness in the treble.
Moving on, Litton’s perky Allegro marcato is nicely phrased, and he captures the score’s veers and vacillations very well indeed. Now this is more like it. The Bergen Phil are well up to the challenge and the BIS balances are much more believable than Phoenix's; while that certainly helps to soften the music’s sharpest edges it doesn't undermine the thrust and energy of Litton's reading. Oramo’s version is the most pliant and personal one here, but some may feel that robs the music of its pith and piquancy. As for Järvi he's as taut and compelling as ever in this movement, a reminder of just how good a team he and the RSNO once were.
The yearning Adagio with its inner musings and gentle tread finds Litton at his most thoughtful and communicative. There’s a pleasing lucidity and openness here that's most welcome. In short, this is a very persuasive account of this lovely, multi-faceted movement. Built on a smaller, more intimate scale Oramo’s Adagio is the most lyrical and colourful; the Ondine recording has a very strong stereo spread, and it’s closer to BIS's in terms of subtlety and tonal sophistication. Unfortunately Oramo allows the pace to flag, which is a shame as I like what he’s trying to do. Both are commendably refined, and that makes for more congenial performances than either Järvi's or Kitaienko's; frankly, the latter have a raw edge and restless angularity that can be a tad unremitting at times.
In that rather forceful context Litton’s frisky Allegro giocoso may seem rather reticent, although it’s actually alert and keenly paced. Not only that, there's a joy, a sparkle, to this music that brisker and more declamatory performances tend to miss. I'm also extremely imprssed by the recorded sound, which really brings out the score's muances and competing timbres. Here and in the symphony as a whole Litton is nearer to the affectionate and reflective Oramo than he is to the volatile Kitaienko/Järvi. I can live with both extremes, but it's a relief - and a pleasure - to hear Prokofiev performances that don't sound like they're being forged on a factory floor.
The Scythian Suite gets a typically febrile outing, with thumping bass and glittering treble. Järvi may have the rhythmic edge, not to mention the most spectacular recording, but Litton’s no slouch either. As with the symphony he combines slam with subtlety, and there's a mervellous sense of a tale being told. He’s aided and abetted by wide-ranging sonics and an orchestra that's in tip-top condition. Indeed, this strikes me as the very best of BIS’s Grieg Hall productions to date, and that augurs well for the rest of Litton’s Prokofiev cycle.
Despite some initial reservations I’m delighted to welcome this addition to the Prokofiev discography. These are performances that grow in stature with each hearing; in fact, not only is Litton's Scythian Suite every bit as thrilling as Järvi's, it's also the more illuminating - the most interesting - of the two.
A terrific pairing, very well played and recorded; here’s to the next instalment.
– MusicWeb International
GRIEG & LISZT: PIANO CONCERTOS
Prokofiev: Symphony No 6 / Litton, Bergen PO
Premièred in January 1945, Sergei Prokofiev’s optimistic and heroic Fifth Symphony had seemed to herald the victorious end of World War Two. In stark contrast to this, his Symphony No.6, which received its first performance in 1947, is one of his deepest and most personal works. Although it was greeted with enthusiasm by the audience, the Soviet authorities were critical of the work and in 1948 a Party resolution singled it out as ‘abnormal’ and ‘repellent’. In fact, the first ideas for the symphony preceded those for the Fifth, and date from a period when the issue of the war was still uncertain. Early in 1945 the composer had suffered a collapse, from which he never completely recovered and which forced him to live the life of an invalid with almost constant headaches. In regard to the work, Prokofiev himself stated: ‘Now we are rejoicing in our great victory, but each of us has wounds that cannot be healed.’ This haunted symphony is here coupled with two works which illustrate a very different side of the composer, his gift for creating vivid musical images that can sum up a scene in a few bold strokes. These are the ever-popular suites from The Love for Three Oranges, the tragic-comical opera from 1921, and from the film score to Lieutenant Kijé, a light-hearted satire from 1934. The original film score included two songs, which form the second and fourth movements of the concert suite. Often performed in a version for solo saxophone and orchestra, these are heard in this recording in their original vocal form, performed by the Ukranian baritone Andrei Bondarenko. With acclaimed previous recordings of music by Prokofiev, as well as by Stravinsky and Rachmaninov, Andrew Litton and his Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra are a tried-and-tested team in this repertoire, and once again make the most of the enormous palette of colours and moods provided by these three scores.
Bruch: Violin Concerto No 1, Romanze, String Quintet / Gluzman, Litton, Bergen PO
Throughout his 82-year life, Max Bruch remained true to the musical ideals of his youth, formed by Schubert, Mendelssohn, Schumann and German folk songs. As a result, the same composer who in the 1880’s was regarded as Brahms’ equal, by the time of his death in 1920 was considered an anachronistic irrelevance. Nowadays, however, few would deny that his production includes numerous works of exquisite sonority, beautiful melodiousness and admirable formal cohesion: a glorious irrelevance indeed. His Violin Concerto No. 1 was a spectacular success from its first performance in 1868, and soon won over audiences both in Germany and abroad. In fact, it became so popular that Bruch in later years became increasingly worried about being considered a ‘one-hit wonder’. It is thus a staple of all violin soloists that Vadim Gluzman here takes on, after his recordings of the concertos by Tchaikovsky (‘without doubt one of the work's finest recordings in recent years’, BBC Music Magazine), Barber (‘one of the most beautiful and characterful recordings of this work’, klassik-heute.de) and Korngold (‘Gluzman’s playing lends the work a new vitality and cohesion’, Classica). Supported by the eminent Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra and its music director Andrew Litton, Gluzman couples the work with a rarity, a violin version of the Romance in F major, Op.85, composed by Bruch for viola and orchestra almost 35 years after the violin concerto. The composer also made an arrangement for violin and piano, and it is this violin part which Gluzman performs to the original orchestral score. Closing the programme is the String Quintet in A minor in which Gluzman is joined by four eminent string players: Sandis Šteinbergs, Maxim Rysanov, Ilze Klava and Reinis Birznieks. Composed in 1918, the Quintet certainly offers no indication of being the exact contemporary of modernist works such as Stravinsky’s Histoire d’un soldat; on the other hand its almost youthful energy, dramatic instinct and playful exuberance equally belies the fact that it was composed by a man in his eightieth year.
Richard Strauss: Elektra
Richard Strauss: Salome
Brahms: Ein deutsches Requiem
Grieg: Norwegian Dances, Symphonic Dances, Lyric Suite / Ruud, Bergen PO
Another BIS first. Not the music this time but the way it is packaged. BIS breaks new ground by offering the public the first surround-sound version of Grieg's justly popular Symphonic Dances. Like all our hybrid SACD releases, this disc is compatible with all CD players but will also provide a surround-sound performance - at no extra cost - to those who are equipped with the relevant hardware. This highly atmospheric music, which so easily removes the listener to the lonely beauty fo the Norwegian fjords, gains especially from the striking realism of a musically balanced surround-sound recording. Further enticement is added by the inclusion of both the Norwegian Dances and the Lyric Suite on this disc. The performances are by Grieg's own orchestra, the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Ole Kristian Ruud. This disc follows the recently released SACD1191 containing, among other works, the famous 'Piano Concerto' in our Grieg-Bergman PO - Ruud cycle.
Piano Concertos Nos. 20 & 12; Rondo for Piano in D Major, K.
Grieg: Peer Gynt Op. 23 / Ruud, Hagegård, Et Al

If you want Grieg's complete Peer Gynt with dialogue, this is the set to own. It really does represent a new standard, musically, dramatically, and technically. Let me say up front that ordinarily I'm not a fan of music with dialogue, but these actors are so involved, and their participation is so skillfully integrated into the acoustic framework and the musical flow, that the sound of idiomatically spoken Norwegian becomes a sort of quasi-musical counterpoint all on its own. Of course, it helps that the actual music, as realized by Ruud and his Bergen forces, also is outstandingly played and sung. His interpretation has all of the necessary freshness and energy that Grieg's score requires. It's theatrical and exciting but also sensitive; rustic without being crude.
High points are almost too numerous to list: there's Ruud's ebullient overture and his perfectly judged accelerando at In the Hall of the Mountain King; the rush of excitement when Peer Gynt is being hunted by the trolls; the characterfully grotesque Dance of the Mountain King's Daughter; the effortless flow of Morning Mood; Anitra's sexy little belly dance; a wonderfully urgent Peer Gynt's Homecoming; a terrifying shipwreck that happily avoids tacky sound effects; and it's all capped by the beautiful vocal contributions of Marita Solberg, who sings a particularly earthy, warm-toned Solveig. As with all the participants in this performance, she seems not just concerned with getting the notes right, but she's also fully involved with the text and in communicating what the music means, almost as if it were new. The chorus also characterizes its part with enthusiasm, avoiding that "churchy" feel that sometimes dogs performances with voices (except, of course, in the Whitsun Hymn, where it's called for).
It's also worth pointing out the extreme care that BIS has taken over production values. In SACD multichannel format, not only do you get enhanced three-dimensionality with respect to the basic soundstage, but sensitive use of the rear speakers creates atmosphere--for example, at such moments as the scene with the Boyg, or at various places requiring offstage voices--without ever drawing gratuitous attention to the technical side of things. The bottom line is that this production offers an unparalleled experience of Grieg's music in which the technology is placed entirely in the service of musical and theatrical values. The packaging and presentation are also exceptional: you get two booklets, one with notes and texts (Norwegian and English), the other with production stills from the actual play. Clearly everyone concerned with this release has pulled out all of the stops, and it has paid off handsomely. An exceptional achievement. [6/28/2005]
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Nielsen: Helios; Clarinet Concerto; Symphony No. 5
Brahms: Symphonies 2 & 4
Grieg, Strauss & Fauré: 1883 - Music for Cello & Piano / Croisé, Shevchenko
1883 was a fruitful year for cello composition as Christoph Croisé’s new recording reveals. That year marked Edvard Grieg’s return to composition after a period of conducting the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra, with the Sonata in A minor, his only work for cello and piano. Also that year, Richard Strauss was writing for the same combination at the age of just 19, producing his Sonata in F. Gabriel Fauré embarked on a cello sonata in 1880; only the slow movement transpired and was published and premiered as the stand-alone piece Élégie in 1883. Christoph’s regular performing partner, Oxana Shevchenko, joins him in this beautifully balanced recording of works for cello and piano.
Mozart: Piano Concertos, Vol. 5 - K. 175, 271 & 246; Overtures / Bavouzet
Featuring sensitive interpretations and a dazzling orchestral accompaniment, this release includes Four Mozart piano concertos punctuated by smaller Mozart tunes. Award-winning pianist Jean-Efflam Bavouzet enjoys a prolific recording and international concert career. He regularly works with orchestras such as The Cleveland Orchestra, San Francisco Symphony, London Philharmonic, BBC Symphony and NHK Symphony orchestras, and collaborates with conductors including Vladimir Ashkenazy, Vladimir Jurowski, Gianandrea Noseda, François- Xavier Roth, Nicholas Collon, Gábor Takács-Nagy and Sir Andrew Davis amongst others. Bavouzet records exclusively for Chandos and his recording of Grieg’s Piano Concerto with Bergen Philharmonic under Edward Gardner has been nominated for the Concerto category of the 2018 Gramophone Awards. Together with Manchester Camerata and Gábor Takács-Nagy, Bavouzet has recorded several of Haydn’s Piano Concertos and embarked on the present series of Mozart concertos, which have been critically acclaimed.
The Edvard Grieg Choir Sings Grieg
The Norwegian vocal ensemble Edvard Grieg Kor is the resident a cappella ensemble at Troldhaugen, the home of Edvard Grieg. Displaying versatility across all musical genres, they perform regularly with Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra and also form the core of the Chorus for Bergen National Opera. They have had numerous works and arrangements written specially for them by leading composers including Jonathan Rathbone, and David Lang, both of whom are represented here on this the choir’s debut recording. Greig’s Fire Salmer, (Four Psalms) after Norwegian folk tunes (his final opus) and his shorter Ave Maris Stella (performed here in an a cappella arrangement made by the composer) are two rare examples of religion in Greig’s output. Works by fellow Norwegian composers Ole Bull and Agathe Backer Grøndahl, and a sensational and virtuosic arrangement of Greig’s Holberg Suite complete the programme.