Hameenniemi, E.: Violin Concerto / Symphonies Nos. 1 and 2

Helsinki Recital: Karita Mattila (Live)

Anders Hillborg (b. 1954) is one of those "texture guys" who throws everything but the kitchen sink into a piece in somewhat Schnittkean fashion, and seems to have great fun doing it. There's a certain anonymity to this style of composition--it's almost what musicologists would call a "common practice", but there's also no denying the fact that Hillborg practices his craft very well and that these smashingly performed and vibrantly recorded pieces present him in the best possible light.

The Clarinet Concerto is a very ambitious work that sustains its 28-minute length with ease. It does just about everything you can do with a woodwind instrument, and probably a few things that you shouldn't attempt at home, covering a huge range of expression and even allowing a surprising touch of humor (note the quotation from Tosca near the beginning and the bits of pseudo-pop music throughout). Hillborg's "al fresco" style of orchestration works particularly well in both this and the violin concerto, where he finds any number of fascinating and voluptuous instrumental textures to act as musical "frames" within which his soloist cavorts about with abandon. Freely dissonant but with strong tonal leanings, both concertos are just plain fun, especially when played as well as they are here by Martin Fröst (clarinet) and Anna Lindal (violin).

Liquid Marble is rather less interesting: evidently the composer had lava and magma in mind when writing it, but what he actually achieved comes off sounding like so much chromatic sludge. It rises to a nicely violent climax, but there doesn't seem to be much substance to what obviously is intended to be both brilliant and terrifying at the same time. Still, it's only 10 minutes long, and others may enjoy it more than I did. There's no denying the excellence of the performance under Esa-Pekka Salonen, nor does this single caveat in any way diminish the appeal of this very well recorded disc as a fine way to make the acquaintance of a talented and very enjoyable composer.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

REVIEW:

This is the world premiere recording of Hindemith’s Piano Music with Orchestra (piano left hand), commissioned by Paul Wittgenstein in 1922 and completed within six months. Wittgenstein—a musical reactionary—never played it; the commissioning contract gave him exclusive performance rights for his lifetime, and he prohibited anyone else from doing so. After his death in 1961, his estate ignored all requests about the piece; in fact, it had lost the score. A flawed copy of the original manuscript turned up in a Pennsylvania farmhouse in 2002 and was successfully coordinated with sketches in the Hindemith archives. Fleisher gave the first performance with the Berlin Philharmonic in December 2004. Hindemith was just emerging from his avant-garde youth at that time. The radical firebrand still shows up in three of the four movements, which are played without pause.

The introduction is aggressive, loud, and brassy, but it does suggest the more staid Hindemith to come. The second movement is filled with outbursts from a large percussion group. A mysterious slow movement features a long duet between piano and English horn, which later gives way to a flute; it is reminiscent of the aborted love scene in the composer’s 1926 opera Cardillac. Fleisher believes that the movement’s basso continuo, which consists of 12 quarter notes (repeated) and uses 11 of the 12 tones, was poking fun at Schoenberg’s recently devised dodecaphonic system. The finale returns to the wild, nose-thumbing style of Hindemith’s 1920 opera Das Nusch-Nuschi.

Fleisher “owns” the left-hand repertoire, and is in this case the unique interpreter. He convinces one listener that this is exactly how the piece should go, revealing everything it has to say. The Curtis orchestra supplies solid, reliable accompaniment. If a few solos are not quite as beautiful as those from the New York Philharmonic, Eschenbach’s views of the music seem more sensitive than Maazel’s and the students more comfortable with the 85-year-old music than the New Yorkers.

Dvorak’s “New World” is played to top professional standards—the strings are gorgeous, as is Rebekah Daley’s first-desk French horn—but I don’t find the reading very interesting. The recorded sound is merely decent and a bit congested, far from the brilliance Ondine achieved for Martinu’s Memorial to Lidice, also a live performance, but admittedly an SACD. The booklet lists every player but oddly gives no credit for English horn, despite that instrument’s important solos in both works. The program writers for both the New York Philharmonic and this disc may have had no opportunity to study Hindemith’s score or hear his music, as they concentrate on its fascinating history.

--James H. North, Fanfare

The final volume of Paul Hindemith’s(1895–1963) youthful and fresh Kammermusik series from the 1920s includes Kammermusik Nos. 4–7 performed by Kronberg Academy Soloists and the Schleswig-Holstein Festival Orchestra under a true Hindemith specialist, Christoph Eschenbach, who has won a Grammy for a previous Hindemith album on Ondine.

These four works by Hindemith can be considered as full-bodied concertos for violin, viola, viola d’amore and organ. These work feature four young talented soloists, Stephen Waarts, Rimothy Ridout, Ziyu Shenand Christian Schmitt. Hindemith’s Kammermusik No. 4 (‘Violin Concerto’) is scored for a larger orchestra than its three predecessors and includes 24 instrumentalists. Kammermusik No. 5 (‘Viola Concerto’) the composer premiered himself by playing the solo part. In total, Hindemith performed this work for 85 times during the next 11 years! In a letter, Hindemith described the viola d’amore as “the most beautiful thing that you can imagine in sound”. The composer fell in love with the instrument and wrote his Kammermusik No. 6 with this instrument in mind. Hindemith’s final Kammermusik (No. 7) was written to a commission by the Southwest German Radio: the premiere of this Organ Concerto was transmitted live in 1928. The radio broadcast had a decisive role in the composer’s choice of instrumentation.

REVIEWS:

As in Vol 1, Eschenbach relishes the music’s wild iconoclasm. Tempos are again lively and throughout he draws marvellous playing from the Kronberg Academy strings and Schleswig-Holstein Festival Orchestra’s winds (the trumpet not least!) and percussion.

– Gramophone

Have I mentioned that these are some of Hindemith’s most wonderful pieces? They combine the brash gestures of his early, avant-garde period with the serious, neo-Baroque elements of his later music—one can hear him changing from 1922 to 1927 in these seven pieces—several of the slow movements approach the meditative depths of his “Mathis der Maler” Symphony. I still recommend the Chailly set as a first choice, but Hindemith fanciers will want this one too.

– Fanfare

The present release is the first volume in a series dedicated to Paul Hindemith’s (1895–1963) chamber works includes the first three works in his Kammermusik series together with Kleine Kammermusik written for a wind quintet. This album continues a successful series of recordings of Hindemith’s music together with conductor Christoph Eschenbach. This series has earned him, among others, a Grammy award. These recordings of chamber music have been recorded with a group of young promising artists, including pianist Christopher Park and cellist Bruno Philippe who are playing the solo parts in the ‘Concertos’, Op. 36.

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REVIEWS:

Eschenbach clearly loves this music, and he wants to convey that love to you, the listener. The result is a series of almost infectious readings in which a good time is had by all.

– The Art Music Lounge (Lynn René Bayley)

This is certainly not easy music to play, and often calls for solo virtuosity, the Second and Third Kammermusik becoming concertos for piano and cello respectively. Throughout you can feel in these performances the fresh and enthusiastic approach of these young people under the direction of the veteran conductor Christoph Eschenbach. This disc certainly deserves an unqualified recommendation.

– David's Review Corner (David Denton)

Ondine's successful Paul Hindemith (1895-1963) recordings with the NDR Sinfonieorchester conducted by Christoph Eschenbach continue with another release featuring two major symphonic works by the composer: Symphonie ‘Mathis der Maler' and Symphonie in E-flat.

The orchestra's and Christoph Eschenbach's previous Hindemith release together with Midori won a Grammy Award in 2014.

The ‘Mathis der Maler' Symphony is based on an opera that treats the life of the Renaissance painter Mathias Grünewald. Hindemith started to work on the symphony already prior to the completion of the opera. The symphony was premiered with great success by the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra under Wilhelm Furtwängler on 12 March 1934. This performance was the last premiere of an orchestral work by Hindemith in Germany before the National Socialist regime issued a general performance prohibition applying to his works in 1936.

Hindemith wrote his Symphonie in E-flat during his exile in the United States in 1940. The Symphony is absolute music in the tradition of the four-movement symphony of Beethoven and the romantic period.

REVIEW:

Eschenbach’s trademark fondness for textural warmth and clarity is much to the fore in Mathis, where strings and woodwind are admirably numinous, the complex counterpoint in both the ‘Engelkonzert’ and the ‘Temptation’ beautifully detailed. The central ‘Grablegung’ is slow, rich-sounding and very introverted. The state-of-the-art recording, pristine and wide-ranging but with no sense of dynamic exaggeration, helps him at the big climaxes, which are imposing, at times even monumental, and there’s a beguiling elegance to the instrumental solos that thread their way through the textures. Abbado and the Berlin Philharmonic on DG have more dramatic bite but this is superbly done nevertheless.

Eschenbach’s approach to the underrated Symphony in E flat, meanwhile, is epic, thoughtful and at times startlingly measured. He is wonderfully attuned to the complex trajectory of a work that looks back from a newly acquired place of safety on an old world irrevocably damaged. The opening Sehr lebhaft has terrific élan, the scherzo a supple, gracious wit. The orchestral clarity is again breathtaking. But placed beside the almost reckless energy of Bernstein (Sony—nla) or Hindemith himself (DG), you notice a grander manner and slower speeds. Eschenbach’s longbreathed way with the crucial Sehr langsam steers it closer to ritual mourning than private grief, though his treatment of the work’s closing pages, in which sadness briefly threatens to intrude upon gathering joy, is moving in the extreme.

-- Gramophone

Featuring Midori, the NDR Symphony Orchestra and Christoph Eschenbach, this release commemorates the anniversary of Hindemith's death 50 years ago. Midori is an extraordinary artist, a devoted and gifted educator and a community engagement activist. Her enthusiasm for playing music of different times is seen on her CDs and concert repertoire. This recording is her first for Ondine.

REVIEW:

Sergiu Comissiona has long been admired for his all-round musical sympathies. Sadly, he has not been a regular visitor to Britain in recent years, preferring to devote himself to those orchestras where he holds a position, most notably the Helsinki Philharmonic Orchestra. He has long been an initiator of stimulating musical projects; while Music Director of the Houston Symphony Orchestra, he commissioned fanfares from 30 of America's leading composers. In 1990, to mark the 125th anniversary of Sibelius's birth, he persuaded the Helsinki Philharmonic to commission eight composers from all round the world to write a short piece each as a tribute to Finland's national composer.

Not surprisingly, some of the pieces are more successful than others. However, the project complete, all the pieces have been released on disc by Comissiona and his committed orchestra. They start with a lively—and presumably authentic—account of the master's En saga. This music must surely be coursing through the veins of all Finnish musicians. A delightful and undemanding piece by Thea Musgrave leads the tributes with deliberate echoes of Sibelius's music. This is followed by Ciacona by Einar Englund: a traditionally-based piece by a composer who knew and was encouraged and supported by Sibelius. Then comes an atmospheric piece by the Japanese composer, Joji Yuasa, and an exhilarating work by the young Finnish composer, Erkki-Sven Tuur. The American composer, Tobias Picker, describes his brief tribute as a conversation between Sibelius, Schoenberg and Stravinsky. Wilfred Josephs's piece is rather static while Marius Constant has composed a beautiful score with a real feel for colour and texture. The collection ends with a big piece, despite its brevity, from Poul Ruders again containing allusions to the music of Sibelius.

Although this is a commemorative disc which will be a must for the admirers and devotees of Sibelius's music, it will also be of interest to those with a taste for the less demanding byways of new music.

-- Gramophone [4/1992]

With this new release the award-winning Latvian Radio Choir together with its director Sigvards Klava are returning to contemporary music after a series of recordings of 19th Century sacred choral works. Ramon Humet’s (b. 1968) new choral work, "Llum" (Light), is a deep, spiritual journey to the gift of life, peace and love. Humet’s "Llum" was premiered by the Latvian Radio Choir under Sigvards Klava in Barcelona in March 2020, just at the outbreak of the global pandemic. This 7-movement work is based on spiritual texts and poems by Vicenç Santamaria, a monk from the monastery of Monserrat in Catalunya and close friend of the composer. This timeless work is radiating serene joy and ends with an ‘Alleluia’. In this first recording, the Latvian Radio Choir under Sigvards Klava are offering an impressive account of this new 21st Century choral work.

1. Tonttujen joulukuusi (*) 4:51
2. Jing Bells 3:45
3. Petteri Punakuono 2:07
4. Te lapsoset, lapsoset kiiruhtakaa 3:42
5. O Come All Ye Faithful 3:54
6. Kun joulu valkeneepi 1:37
7. Puer natus in Bethlehem 1:02
8. Jouluyö, juhlayö 3:01
9. Joulukranssi kuudella kielellä 8:58
10. Ding Dong! Merrily on High 2:34
11. We Wish You a Merry Christmas 3:11
12. Santa Lucia 4:03
13. O Tannenbaum 2:33
14. Kun joulupukki suukon sai 3:02
15. Joulupukki matkaan jo käy 2:39
16. White Christmas 2:42

[ 61:15 ]

Jorma Hynninen, baritone
Tapiola Choir
Raimo Sirkiä, tenor
Vox Aurea
Monica Groop, mezzosoprano
Sympaatti Youth Choir
Turku Castle Chamber Choir
Savonlinna Opera Festival Chorus
Kalevi Kiviniemi, organ
Matti Salminen, bass

This release includes the world première recording of the full orchestral score written by Armas Järnefelt (1869–1958) for Mauritz Stiller’s silent film Song of the Crimson Flower (1919) performed by Gävle Symphony Orchestra under Jaakko Kuusisto.

Armas Järnefelt – today largely known in music literature only as Sibelius’ brother-in-law – became one of the most remarkable Finnish orchestral composers during the 1890s. The composer wrote several symphonic poems and orchestral suites in his young age which were highly successful and widely performed by various orchestras in his home country. However, for reasons unknown, Järnefelt decided to devote himself to conducting. In the years to follow, Järnefelt moved to Sweden and become a highly-esteemed conductor.

Some of Järnefelt’s miniatures became hits for salon orchestras in Europe, such as his Berceuse, but this recording makes more justice to a largely forgotten Nordic composer. In 1919, Finnish-born film director Mauritz Stiller approached Armas Järnefelt and commissioned him to write an orchestral score for his silent film ‘Song of the Scarlet Flower’ (Sången om den eldröda blomman), based on a novel by Finnish author Johannes Linnankoski. Järnefelt made great efforts for the project and as a result, wrote a large 100-minute orchestral score. The work can be considered as his final orchestral masterpiece and a pioneer work in film music. The film was a huge hit and went on to be screened in more than 40 countries in addition to Sweden. It was also the first ever Nordic feature-length film to have a full-length original score written for it. Järnefelt’s score was lost for a long time, although he did conduct a recording of extracts from the score in 1931. In the 1980s the original score was rediscovered among the possessions of Järnefelt’s relatives. Järnefelt’s score was augmented and restored by Jani Kyllönen and Jaakko Kuusisto for the present recording.

SAARIAHO Clarinet Concerto, “D’Om le vrai sens.” Laterna Magica. Leino Songs • Sakari Oramo, cond; Finnish RSO; Kari Kriikku, (cl); Anu Komsi (s) • ONDINE 1173-2 (67:31 Text and Translation)


Over the years my admiration for Kaija Saariaho (b. 1952) has only grown. From early in her career she’s had an identifiable voice, one that comes from the intersection of a certain Nordic directness with a very French taste for refinement of timbre and texture (she’s Finnish, but worked at IRCAM and has lived for decades in Paris). The result is music that pleases on multiple levels: It’s highly lyrical, explores new sonorities with experimental rigor, and is never afraid of sensuality.


The three works on this program (basically hot off the press) all partake of the above-described aesthetic. The Clarinet Concerto (2010) is a suite of six movements inspired by the famous medieval “Unicorn” tapestries at the Cluny Museum in Paris, which in turn represent the senses (the final movement evokes a culminatory “sixth sense”). It’s truly haunting, in that the clarinet often uses noise and multiphonics (though always scrupulously) to suggest a sort of ghost-like keening and shrieking. Saariaho is very much in the spectralist school, which develops its harmonic practice from precise analysis of sounds in their microscopic realm, and from their correspondence to the overtone series. As a result, even her most dissonant sound masses have a spaciousness that always sounds natural and open, and that’s the case throughout this piece.


Laterna Magica (2008) is a tone poem evoking the life and work of film director Ingmar Bergman, though it never falls into any film-music cliché. It has an interesting dialectic between rich clouds of sound and more rhythmically pulsating textures (film threading through a projector’s sprockets?), and a passage where the orchestral players whisper various words (in German) relating to light is particularly striking. It falls a little more into what feel to me certain standard gestures and sonorities of this style and era, but it remains consistently appealing and mysterious. And the 2007 Leino Songs are four settings from one of Finland’s greatest poets, Eino Leino (1878–1926). This is technically the most conservative work, in that the voice is used for a traditionally beautiful melody; the instruments provide an aura about it that sometimes is more distorted, but never at the expense of the vocal line’s beauty. All this is not a surprise, since the composer has established one of the few successful track records for innovative and beautiful opera.


All these are exceptional performances, but by now would we expect less from anything coming out of Finland, perhaps the world’s most advanced musical culture (at least for what we call “classical”)? If you’ve not heard Saariaho before, this is an excellent introduction.


FANFARE: Robert Carl


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Susanna Välimäki’s booklet notes sum up the music of Kaija Saariaho remarkably succinctly: “Saariaho may be regarded as a philosophical composer of mysteries … her music seems to suggest an invisible yet tangible ‘other world’ that can be sensed in the translucent sonorities, echoes, overtones, harmonics, shadow tones and reflections of her music ... [It] conjures up a sense of infinite space and multimodality.” The colours of the orchestration in a work like the Clarinet Concerto are almost as elusive as the tonalities and harmonic language used, but at the same time the ear is granted access into a world which is infinitely fascinating - subsumed at times with an icy northern chill, but also irrigated by the magnetic shifting patterns of an aurora borealis.

As the subtitle suggests, the Clarinet Concerto “D’OM LE VRAI SENS” refers to the human senses, each inspired by the panels of a medieval tapestry called The Lady and the Unicorn. These physical aspects are suggested with instrumental symbolism and meditations rather than literal descriptive elements easily divined by an audience, but the atmosphere of mystic other-worldliness brings us into a state of wonder which can perhaps be interpreted as comparable with that of the medieval lay person confronted by inexplicable worlds beyond experience, expressed by an almost equally inexplicable miracle of craftsmanship in the tapestries. Kari Kriikku’s remarkable clarinet playing is a real treat in this work, sometimes imitating animal sounds, at times sounding like declamatory speech, and always filled with drama and intensity which equals that conjured by the entire orchestra.

Laterna Magica is titled after the memoirs of film director Ingmar Bergman, and refers to the earliest of image projectors, the magic lantern. This transfers into music in a series of ‘mirages in sound‘, creating spaces into which the imagination can project its own images. This again is more than a merely literal conjuring and teasing of our pictorial senses, and the mystic symbolism of passing time and the universal questions of existence are powerful elements in the score. Machine-like noises and quasi-spoken whisperings express the intangibility of images which seem real, and challenge perceptions of permanency and reality.

The Leino Songs use poems by Eino Leino, considered one of the most important of all Finnish poets. Reading the texts in the booklet, and it is immediately apparent as to why these texts would appeal to Saariaho, as their themes and content can easily be interpreted as expressing the very essence of her compositions. Beautifully sung by Anu Komsi, each song is compact, the words used directly and without distortion of the original poem. Each song creates its own world, reflecting the themes of love and violence, fragrant serenity and death.

This is a superbly produced recording from the Ondine label, which has been championing Saariaho’s music for some time now. Justly celebrated as one of the leading composers of our time, this varied and deeply fascinating programme is as good a place as any to become acquainted with her remarkable universe of expressive sonority and mystical depth. This isn’t Bach or Beethoven of course, but neither is it work which will turn you off with impenetrable intellectual challenges. The deeper you look the more you can reveal, but what you find is more often one or other revelation about yourself as much as an understanding of music which is of its very nature a kind of tuning fork held up to the harmonies and dissonances of existence.

-- Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International

Pianist Tuija Hakkila enjoyed a close friendship with composer Kaija Saariaho (1952-2023) that lasted for over 40 years until the composer's death in 2023. Tuija Hakkila played a pivotal role in Saariaho's creations for the solo piano and harpsichord. Although Kaija Saariaho wrote several compositions featuring the piano, the composer felt that writing music for solo piano was particularly challenging due to the restrictions of the instrument. Although few in number, Saariaho's piano works are 21st century gems continuing the path set by Debussy's late works and Messiaen.

Classical Music

With The Snow Queen, the Finnish National Ballet scored a hit. This success was due not only to Andersen's wonderful story and its brilliant staging but also to the music of composer Tuomas Kantelinen. He says he wanted "to write music that is melodic, beautiful and accessible, as its principal function is to put viewers of all ages into a cheerful Christmas mood. It is a deliberate nod towards the tradition of Christmas ballets for the whole family, such as Nutcracker. I had a great deal of fun creating character dance pastiches that illustrate the conceptions that people have of the musical styles of various countries."

KARITA MATTILA - KAIPAINEN, ME

Composer Juris Karlsons (b. 1948) is one of the leading names in Latvian music today. This new album by the Latvian Radio Choir under their music director Sigvards Klava features Karlsons’ choral works. These works are marked by deeply religious feeling and profound message. Oremus is choral piece written by the composer in 2018 for the Latvian Radio Choir. It was premiered as part of the Lincoln Center White Light Festivals. When writing this work, no doubt Karlsons had specifically the sound and vocal abilities of the choir in mind.

The largest work of the album is Adoratio (2010), a symphonic, single-movement work for choir and orchestra with a duration of over 30 minutes. Yet, this powerful work filled with drama can, like a symphony, be clearly divided into musical sections.

Le lagrime dell’anima (2013) for piano and choir is based on a short poem written by the composer: “Here are just seven simple notes that are born on a beautiful summer evening when watching the sunset. The stars slowly light up, one, then another. You wait for the next one. The seven sounds of stars are gradually born under the pianist’s fingers, somewhere in the silence they appear in the chorus’s intonations, and finally intertwined in a melodic line,” the composer describes.

The final piece of the album, Ora pro nobis (2019), is a tribute to Virgin Mary based on an earlier work and written for Sigvards Klava. 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.

Composer Jurgis Karnavicius (1884–1941) made significant contributions to the cultural life in Lithuania after returning back to his home country in the late 1920s. Karnavicius was a pupil Maximilian Steinberg at the St. Peterburg Conservatory later becoming a professor in his alma mater. During his years in St. Petersburg, the composer wrote four impressive String Quartets, filling the chronological and stylistic gap between the String Quartets of Tchaikovsky and Shostakovich. Karnavicius’ String Quartet No. 1 was published by Belaieff. Its folkloristic elements bring to mind the late quartets of Dvorák. Karnavicius’ second Quartet, written a few years later and distributed by Universal Edition Vienna, already shows first signs of a shift towards Expressionism. In this album the Lithuanian Vilnius String Quartet offer world premiere recordings of these two forgotten gems.

The first volume of the premiere recordings of Jurgis Karnavicius’ (1884–1941) string quartets resulted in a growing number of excellent album reviews. It included the composer's romantic and folk music-inspired first two quartets. This second volume includes the composer’s last two quartets: Nos. 3 & 4 which are more expressive and modern in nature. Karnavicius wrote his four impressive string quartets during his study and teaching years in St. Petersburg during the 1910s and 1920s, filling the chronological and stylistic gap between the String Quartets of Tchaikovsky and Shostakovich. After its premiere in St. Petersburg, it took nearly a half century before the String Quartet No. 3 was heard again: in 1969, long after the composer’s death. Similarly, the composer’s String Quartet No. 4 had to wait for its next performance until the 1980s and still remains unpublished. In this album the Vilnius String Quartet is giving beautiful world premiere recordings to these two expressive works by the Lithuanian composer.

Final volume in the first-ever complete recorded cycle of symphonies by Talivaldis Keninš (1919–2008), one of the most prominent post-WW2 composers in Latvia and Canada. This album includes three of the composer’s eight numbered symphonies performed by the Latvian National Symphony Orchestra under Andris Poga.

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 1951 and became a respected pedagogue and a very influential figure in Canada’s music life. Alongside his eight symphonies, the composer also wrote 12 concertos. However, he also included many concertante elements in his symphonies and the Symphony No. 2, “Sinfonia concertante” (1967), scored for three wind instruments and symphony orchestra, is very close to a triple concerto. The symphony’s extensive second movement is based on a lullaby of the Mi’kmaq First Nations people. Symphony No. 3 (1970) was completed few years after its predecessor and is a step forward in the composer’s journey as a symphonist. Here we encounter the idea of a lyrical hero, which, in the ears of the listener, could be personified. Although many consider Kenins’ 8th Symphony to be his symphonic climax, the 7th Symphony (1980) is by no means a lesser work: it could be even considered as one of the composer’s most personal and intimate creations. The symphony ends with an aria based on a text by the composer’s father and the atmosphere of the work seems to stem from the composer’s emotional trauma on the occupation of his native Latvia by the Soviet troops.

REVIEW:

Ķeniņš composed his first symphony when he was forty and almost a decade elapsed before he turned to the genre again. However, his Symphony No 2 “Sinfonia concertante” does not strictly adhere to any symphonic mould. That the composer had a trio of wind instruments as some sort of a concertino tends to show that he was not completely sure of how to tackle that form again. This also shows is the lay-out of the piece, i.e three movements of strongly contrasting character as well as weight. In fact, the whole weight of the symphony lies in the long central movement whereas the brief opening Lento and the equally brief final Molto animato e marcato merely function as a prelude and epilogue of some sort. Moreover, the central Molto moderato: Tema e variazioni is twice as long as the two other movements put together. The weighty central movement is cast as a theme and variations on a lullaby of the Mi’kmaq First Nations people which the composer also used in his Suite in D major for organ. Anyone interested in what the Mi’kmaq First Nations people may be referred to Wikipedia for it all seems a rather long story. The variation movement of the Second Symphony is an impressive piece of music in which Kenins’ contrapuntal mastery is already fully displayed.

The Symphony No 3 is Ķeniņš’ first large-scale work for large symphony orchestra and again the composer demonstrates his assurance in his handling of form and counterpoint. The central movement Lento inquieto, though shorter than that of the Second Symphony, is again the emotional heart of the piece but it is nevertheless counterbalanced by two outer movements of fairly equal length but of quite different character. Georgs Pelēcis is quoted in Orets Silabriedis’ excellent notes as saying that “Kenins rejects seemingly essential symphony ingredients, such as the sonata form. That does not appear in any of the three movements … only one main theme is developed in each movement, and they are all interrelated. The unifying element is the rich chromatic intonations …”. The Third Symphony is clearly a work by a composer in full command of his aims and means, which shows in the way that the composer handles polyphony – an essential component of his music making. The first and second movements end with uncertainty, preparing for what is to follow, but the final movement Molto animato e brioso ends with an assertive gesture. As Silabriedis puts it: “I am responsible for everything that I have said and done”. (Incidentally, one might be reminded of RVW, whose Fourth Symphony also ends abruptly with a fist banging on a table and a door brutally slammed.

The Symphony No 7 “Symphony in the form of a Passacaglia” is scored for large orchestra and a mezzo-soprano in the final aria. Half the duration of the piece is purely orchestral and cast as a fully developed Passacaglia capped, so to say, by a short Allegro molto before the final aria for mezzo-soprano on a poem by the composer’s father, Atis Ķeniņš (1874–1961), who was also a statesman and one of the founders of the Republic of Latvia in 1919. The poem must have had a particularly personal resonance for the composer. “The mezzo-soprano solo links the composer more tightly with his family roots, expresses itself in more trusting and optimistic feelings; however, the unease in the harmonies and rhythm likely cannot hide the composer’s fears about out era. The concluding epilogue is like an Agnus Dei. The finale should express hope and faith, which stands over life’s troubles, soothing our darkest predictions, and suppressing our fears” (the composer’s words quoted in Silabriedis’ notes). The text, as translated in the booklet, may seem somewhat dated but has now acquired some new relevance in our troubled times and the symphony now carries a most welcome and needed appeal for peace. Nonetheless, Ķeniņš’ Seventh Symphony is quite an impressive piece of music in its own right and its “message” (if such there is) may be heard by any man of goodwill.

This final installment in Ondine’s Ķeniņš cycle has been carefully prepared and is as immaculately performed as the preceding ones. These are committed performances throughout, in excellent sound, up to Ondine’s best standards and Orests Silabriedis’ notes are excellent.

Ķeniņš’ symphonic cycle is on a par with other largely forgotten similar cycles that would probably have remained ignored or little known, were it not for brave and enterprising recording companies who have invested in similar projects. Examples that immediately come to mind are BIS’ recordings of Tubin’s symphonies and the hopefully ongoing Wordsworth cycle by Toccata. One cannot but hope that ventures such as these will encourage others to follow suit.

Ķeniņš’ music is too good to be ignored and these performances do it full justice; I am sure that they will play a part in securing his music its deserved status.

-- MusicWeb International

The first album of orchestral works by one of Latvia’s most prominent composers, Talivaldis Keninš (1919–2008), released in October 2020 has received a warm response from music critics around the world. This second volume by the Latvian National Symphony Orchestra under conductor Guntis Kuzma includes two symphonies from the 1970s alongside another concertante gem, Canzona Sonata for viola and string orchestra.

Although born in Latvia, Ķeniņš 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. Ķeniņš emigrated to Canada in 1951 and 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. At first Ķeniņš focused on writing works of chamber music and completed his first symphony relatively late, in 1959. During the 1970s and 80s, Ķeniņš wrote several symphonies more becoming a major symphonist. The two symphonies included in this volume are compact orchestral scores from the 1970s. Symphony No. 4 is rich with its fine French orchestral textures, while Symphony No. 6 is an impressive symphonic work based on a fugue theme. The expressive Canzona Sonata for viola and string orchestra written in 1986 is a relatively late work and a wonderful example of the composer’s skills in writing concertante music.

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)

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.

Uuno Klami write his Violin Concerto during World War II and it was premiered in Stockholm in 1944. The piece was lost during the war and Klami completed a new version in 1954. Klami is known for the strong influences he takes from French music and from Stravinsky. Known for his exceptionally wide repertoire and a great sense of musicality, Benjamin Schmid is one of the most versatile violinists of today. Described as "one of the most valuable of today's golden-age-violinists" - The New York Sun

Uuno Klami was the Finnish Ravel, his music characterized by superb craftsmanship, glittering orchestration, and melodies that sound like you might have heard them before but can't remember where. The Cheremissian Fantasy for cello and orchestra is a case in point, saturated with the folk music of far-off Cheremissia (or wherever). It doesn't matter, either there, or in the Kalevala Suite, the closest thing that Klami has to a popular international hit. Northern Lights will be new to most collectors. It's an 18-minute symphonic poem that more than lives up to its title: alternately atmospheric and brilliant, it rises to an imposing climax that reveals Klami's gifts as an orchestrator to excellent effect.

While both the Fantasy and the Kalevala Suite have been recorded previously--and very well (BIS has a fine Klami series from Lahti)--this new release is outstanding in every way. The Helsinki Philharmonic knows this music as well as anyone, and in any event is a first-class ensemble no matter what the repertoire. John Storgards leads vibrant interpretations, with Samuli Peltonen an impressive cello soloist. The sonics are superbly lifelike, with plenty of detail and a wide dynamic range. Highly recommended.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

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KLAMI Northern Lights. Cheremissian Fantasy. 1 Kalevala Suite • John Storgärds, cond; 1 Samuli Peltonen (vc); Helsinki PO • ONDINE ODE 1143-2 (65:25)


Uuno Klami (1900–1961) is one of the best-known of those Finnish composers who flourished in the wake of Sibelius, although Klami was also influenced by French and Russian music of the early 20th century. He was especially renowned for his orchestral works, of which the five tone poems comprising the Kalevala Suite (1943) are the most familiar and most often recorded. His best music maintains a bracing rhythmic momentum and reveals an attractive vein of lyricism.


The tone poem Northern Lights (1946) was new to me. The piece does not seem to have been recorded before (or, at any rate, no previous recording appears to be available). It evokes a Sibelian atmosphere; Klami’s music became more appreciably nationalistic after the Second World War. It is a lovely work, with a Ravelian sheen to the orchestration. While there are moments where swirling woodwind and harp glissandi suggest the dazzling phenomenon of the northern lights, Klami’s penchant for melodic cells keeps the music anchored. Around the 10-minute mark a cheeky waltz episode appears, and a suitably grand chorale provides a satisfying coda.


The Cheremissian Fantasy for cello and orchestra (1931) is in two movements, slow and fast, its thematic material loosely based on folk tunes from northern Finland. The cellist is given the bulk of the melodic material, which young soloist Samuli Peltonen plays here with fine tone and lots of heart.


The main work on this disc is the Kalevala Suite . In five movements, its layout could be regarded as symphonic. The first movement, “The Creation of the Earth,” is the equivalent of a sweeping symphonic allegro with a mysterious introduction and gentle postlude added. The second movement,“The Sprout of Spring,” is a scherzo with a lyrical second subject; the third, “Terhenniemi,”—apparently a late addition—serves as an evocative interlude before the calm of the slow movement, “Cradle Song for Lemminkäinen,” and grandeur of the finale, “The Forging of the Sampo.”


The suite’s programmatical basis lies in the great Finnish national epic, the Kalevala , which also inspired much of Sibelius’s music. Indeed, Klami’s work was initially commissioned by Robert Kajanus, chief conductor of the Helsinki Philharmonic and a friend and champion of the older composer. (Kajanus died before the suite reached its final completed form.) Sibelius does not seem to be a major influence until the final movement, and even then the theme on which the movement is based (first played by the English horn) primarily suggests Grieg. Again, Klami’s melodic ease and expertly detailed orchestration leave their stamp on the work.


Storgärds and the modern-day Helsinki Philharmonic give it everything they’ve got in this stunningly recorded program: Tender moments sound gorgeous, the climaxes leap out at you, and Storgärds’ plush, well-balanced orchestral textures do not preclude tension or drama. In the Kalevala Suite , a greater sense of urgency informs a 1973 performance on a Finlandia disc with the same orchestra conducted by Jorma Panula (which includes the only other recording of the Cheremissian Fantasy , with Arto Noras); it may be difficult to track down. Panula rerecorded the suite alongside other works of the composer for Naxos, but rougher sound blunts that performance and the Turku Philhamonic Orchestra is not quite in the Helsinki league. This new Ondine release is definitely the one to go for.


FANFARE: Phillip Scott

“The first thing to be said is that there is nothing in the symphony to remind one of Sibelius.” So opines Helena Tyrvainen in her notes on Uuno Klami’s First Symphony (1937-8), but for many listeners even the most casual acquaintance will suggest quite the contrary. Granted the form and structure of Klami’s work has little to do with any of Sibelius’s seven, even the First with which it shares an awareness of nineteenth-century Russian symphonism. Klami adopts a lyric, non-epic approach, closer in spirit to Melartin’s earlier symphonies, or even Madetoja. None the less, the language is reminiscent of Sibelius, even to the use of pulsing horn chords and pedals, and brought to my mind the minor tone-poems and incidental music, for instance the Dance Intermezzo or Swanwhite. That said, there are as many traces of Russian music (rather more dear to Klami’s heart), and in the finale a passage that would not be out of place in Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet.

Klami was a noted exponent of neo-classicism, but you would scarcely know that from either the symphony or the later King Lear Overture (1944-5; the third piece Klami composed on this Shakespearean subject). I am not sure I would have guessed the subject from the music, which has a generally tragic-dramatic atmosphere. The performances and recording are both splendid; a valuable addition to the catalogue."

-- Gramophone [3/1996]

KLAMI, U.: Lemminkainen's Adventures on an Island / The Cobb

Joonas Kokkonen is considered "Finland's most significant composer after Sibelius" (American Record Guide). However, he still awaits discovery among many lovers of accessible contemporary music. Sakari Oramo and the Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra, unrivaled champions of Finnish late 20th-century music, have taken up this task with a complete Kokkonen symphonies cycle: The benchmark first volume (ODE 1098-2) was unanimously hailed by the press as a "must-have disc". On this new release, they perform the first two symphonies, coupled with Opus sonorum for orchestra. Written in the years following Sibelius's death in 1957, these masterpieces reveal Kokkonen's affinity with the music of J.S. Bach and his full exploration of expressive tonal colors.

"...Both are tautly argued works, compressing four movements into 20-minute spans that Sakari Oramo plots with precision. After completing the anguished Second Symphony in 1961, Kokkonen developed a more expressive, almost neoromantic style. The seeds of that can be heard in Opus Sonorum from 1964, which is symphonic in outline if not in its nine-minute scale, and uses the musical letters of Jean Sibelius's name as one of its motifs." - Andrew Clements, The Guardian, London, 2009

"For Finnish conductor, Sakari Oramo, a man with a yen for reviving neglected composers, Joonas Kokkonen is an important figure. He's the 'missing link' between the great Jean Sibelius and a new generation of Finnish composers such as Magnus Lindberg." -- Ivan Hewett, The Daily Telegraph, February 11, 2009

Tõnu Kõrvits (b. 1969) is together with Arvo Pärt and Erkki-Sven Tüür among the most interesting Estonian composers of our time. This album by the Estonian NSO and Risto Joost consists of orchestral works written between a period of ten years, from 2007 to 2018. These works have been inspired by a variety of themes and are rich with delicate atmosphere possessing a particularly Northern feel combined with a romantic and Impressionistic touch. Azure and Leaving Capriare the most recent pieces of this album. First of the pieces is a transcription of a work which was originally written for the male choir. Leaving Capriis a homage to Estonian painter Konrad Mägi who is well-known for his colorful and sunny paintings of Italy’s landscape. Orchestral work Hymns to the Nordic Lights (2011) was premiered by Britten Sinfonia conducted by James MacMillan. This 5-movement suite evokes the magic of the Northern landscape with Nordic Lights. Silent Songs (2015) is a work of three pieces for bass-clarinet and orchestra where the soloist’s part is improvisatory, lyrical and meditative. Tears Fantasy (2011) is an orchestral fantasy dedicated to conductor Risto Joostand inspired by the work of English Renaissance composer John Dowland. Elegies of Thule (2007) is the earliest piece of the album, a suite for strings which is based on different folk tunes from Estonia. The result isa fascination combination of romanticism influenced by folk elements.

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REVIEWS:

Performed and recorded to impeccable high standards, this is the kind of release that can restore your faith in the power of contemporary music. Tõnu Kõrvits’ voice is very much one that invites rather than repels the listener, creating gorgeous sounds to go along with imaginatively conceived and expressively grounded material. There’s plenty of depth and poetic emotion to get your teeth into, so sharpen your senses and dive in.

– MusicWeb International

The Estonian National SO play throughout with the greatest of conviction and the glossiest tone, driven on by Risto Joost’s unique understanding of Kõrvits’s work, and the recording is everything one would expect from Ondine.

– Gramophone