Sony Classical's recent release highlights three talented Finns: composer Magnus Lindberg, conductor Esa-Pekka Salonen, and cellist Anssi Kartunnen. The disc confirms Lindberg's place among those few composers who successfully combine innovation and communication, drawing the audience in to new sounds and techniques that other composers just aren't able to combine in as immediately attractive a way.
Production on the disc is excellent. The liner notes feature an informative, somewhat technical interview with the composer that touches upon important structural aspects of each work. Martin Anderson nails Lindberg's style when he writes: "...this surface busy-ness and longer-term harmonic evolution seem to exist as two parallel worlds - almost as if you have to look underneath the exterior of the music to see what's really going on." The fact that Lindberg creates such a gorgeous exterior out of such rigorous and intellectual planning is stunning. Sound quality is demonstration-worthy, the loudest, most complex counterpoint springing vibrantly to life (this is also, no doubt, due to the virtuosity of the Philharmonia and the dedication and ability of Salonen in music like this).
The first work on the disc, "Cantigas", was composed for the Cleveland Orchestra. The tempo relationships, intervallic content (focusing upon that very "tonal" interval, the perfect fifth) and "fundamental, open function of the bass" combine to make the piece instantly accessible. The piece is typically busy, in Lindberg's style from Corrente and other works from the 90s, and several listens reveal fascinating details and interconnections. It's amazing how virtuosic some of the writing is, and the wind and brass of the Philharmonia have a heyday. My jaw dropped several times. The fantastic oboe soloist, Christopher O'Neal, is justly credited on the album cover, and his solos that introduce the "A" material at the beginning and return a little over halfway through the work would serve as excellent introductory guide posts to someone uninitiated to contemporary music. Similarly, when the oboe's opening, perfect fifth idea returns in the brass (after having been skewed throughout) at around 15:50, one feels a wonderful sense of harmonic arrival, similar to the feeling one gets at the recapitulation of a sonata-allegro movement. From 17:00 on, it's a roller-coaster ride, the brass punctuating wild bell-like chords, the woodwinds chattering away, and the bass line slowly prodding the entire ensemble to resolve on a gorgeously managed major triad, an arrival which the composer compares to the modulation at the end of Ravel's Bolero. The quiet ending is, admittedly, a bit of a let-down--I would have liked more time for the music to unwind.
The Cello Concerto begins with a catalogue of technique--bow pressure, harmonics, pizzicati, glissandi, etc. The orchestra gradually picks up on the harmonies implied by the soloist and the one-movement work is off. The melodic and harmonic material seems a bit harder to grasp than the very basic building blocks of "Cantigas", but the way the orchestra tends to follow and imitate the material the cello just introduced is easy to discern. The bulk of the opening of the work is gestural, with material introduced by the soloist and then developed by the orchestra beneath new material. A stratspheric interaction between high orchestral instruments, metallic percussion and celloharmonics (around 10:00) initiates a crazy sequence of events that evaporates into the bizarre cadenza. Beginning with fragmentedgestures, the cellist is joined by the orchestra in violent outbursts and the closing third of the work returns to the opening activity level, adding a beautiful lyrical melody here and there. The falling gestures that dominate the final 5 minutes of the work develop into downward glissandi from the soloist that close the work. Kartunnen's large, dark tone and flawless technique are shown in every light throughout the work. The recording balance is very natural, with the cello receding from the spotlight when necessary.
"Parada", the briefest work on the disc (12:38) is also the least "busy". Lindberg says that he tried to "make a genuinely slow-moving thing", and the harmonic motion is definitely slowed down compared to the other works on the disc, but busy-ness seems to be native to his style, and it remains here. The opening minutes of the work feature fairly anonymous chorale-like writing, but after a morph to the quick, busy second half, we are back in familiar territory. The activity subsides after a few minutes and we return to the chorale-like material. The less busy moments seemed very self-conscious and out of Lindberg's idiom to me, especially in the second half of the work where he seems to try to make up for his characteristic filigree with percussion activity. The work is the least original on the disc, but still has its interesting moments.
"Fresco" sticks to one idea throughout, "strong contrasts and clashes between chamber-like or lighter-textured music and almost harsh pillars of sound-blocks." These two musical worlds combine in every imaginable way throughout the 21 minute work and again put the orchestra to a very virtuosic test. Lindberg writesthat "there is basically no solution between these contrasts", and this may prove troublesome to some listeners, as there is no traditional conflict-resolution relationship to the work. It's definitely the hardest nut to crack on the disc, harkening back to the uncompromising world of "Kraft". One can't help but marvel at the athletics the orchestra goes through, but it would take many attentive listenings to really "figure out" this piece.