in Reviews

Reinventing the concerto in five album takes

by Jari Kallio

The concerto remains a cornerstone of contemporary music. How do recent recordings reinterpret this classical genre? In this article, Jari Juhani Kallio reviews the latest concerto releases by Finnish composers.

Looking at recent albums of Finnish contemporary music for orchestra, one is keen to note how venerable formats such as the concerto still hold ground among recorded repertoire. It might thus be worthwhile to examine some of the latest disc entries into the genre, bearing in mind that such snapshots are – by their nature – highly selective. As an overview, there is uplifting musical diversity among newly recorded concertos, as composers reinvent the medium in the most ingenious ways. 

To begin with, let us examine Outi Tarkiainen’s orchestral album Midnight Sun Variations and its fabulous concluding work Milky Ways (2022), a concerto for cor anglais and orchestra. The concerto is luminously recorded by its dedicatee Nicholas Daniel and the Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra under Nicholas Collon – and well served in engineering and post-production by the Ondine team. 

“We all began life on milky ways. Milky, as the bronze-sheathed infant gaze halts and entices the Fountainhead of God to flow. The bubbling life force nourishes but is also the greatest of all forms of tenderness, closeness and primitive interaction. The skill we have practised in the secrecy of the womb lapses with the passing of the years, but the interplay it has generated never deserts us – it is the love that sustains us even after the final departure. Transporting us through the concerto is the hypnotic sound of the cor anglais that soars from Mother Earth to the celestial Milky Way; to the sweet, solid, loving cradle of life”, the composer writes in her note. 

The first movement, ‘The Infant Gaze’, opens with the soloist’s Tempo rubato, agitato incantations, with slowly oscillating orchestral waves unfolding underneath. Ostinato patterns prevail in Calando, luminoso and the music gains more kinetic energy, while retaining its mysterious overall ambiance. Reiterated with mounting intensity, the material reaches its high point, before cooling down to a meditative postlude. 

Pouring down from the cor anglais part, fluid solo lines set the central movement ‘Interplays’ in Giocoso, energico motion, alternating with contemplative Calando passages. The orchestra’s pulsating energy intensifies against the soloist’s chant-like material, leading into a cadenza passage for Cor anglais and percussion, eventually landing on a full stop and rounding off with a brief Tempo primo closing gesture.

A moment of stasis, Flessible ma calmo, for percussion, strings and harp introduces the mist-clad third movement, ‘At the fountainhead of God’. Coloured by subtle glissandi, Tarkiainen’s scoring evokes images of sunset filtered through leaves and branches. The soloist enters, Dolcissimo, intimo, leading the orchestra towards the otherworldly realm of Visionarico, mistico. Joining the celesta, glockenspiel, harp, bass drum and sustained strings, an offstage trio of two solo violins and viola is heard alongside orchestral woodwind soloists. Picking up from the Molto espressivo cor anglais, the ensemble grows increasingly softer, while the soloist leaves the stage. In the closing measures, a ppp trill is heard in the distance, while the orchestral fabric dissolves beyond the threshold of hearing – a spellbinding effect.

Next, we have the title piece of Lotta Wennäkoski’s new album with the Avanti! Chamber Orchestra, Zeng (2018-19) for sopranino and alto recorders, percussion and string orchestra, featuring Lucie Horch and Ville Syrjänen as soloists, with József Hárs on the podium. The concertante score has its roots in two Hungarian folk melodies, Az én lovam Szajkó and Magos a rutafa, freely quoted by the composer. Wennäkoski draws further inspiration from the sonorities of the ütőgardon, a cello-like Hungarian instrument played in percussive manner. 

The piece is in a single movement lasting about 16 minutes. It opens with repeated Molto pesante, marcato e robusto triple-forte recorder glissandos, echoed by vibraslap, whip, timpani and strings. A duet for recorder and castanets follows, accompanied by arpeggiated strings. The plot thickens as the music grows more virtuosic and elaborate, permuting into passages of agile instrumental choreography. More shady and elusive, the molto tranquillo, sensibile central section introduces offstage string soloists, contributing to the immersive nature of the music. After a while, unrest begins to stir again as Zeng harks back to its beginnings. Onomatopoeic textures come to the fore, paving the way towards the concerto’s zenith – another triple-forte passage – before fading into ancora più tranquillo.  

Another top-tier performance on a splendid album, Zeng is a wonderful addition to the concerto repertoire, lending itself nicely to smaller-scale ensembles. Recorded with finesse, this performance is a charmer.

Keeping up with the novelties of the Alba catalogue, no fewer than three recent concertos for accordion and strings are included on a single album, somewhat mundanely titled Finnish Accordion Concertos but containing captivating performances by accordionists Antti LeinonenSonja VertainenJanne Valkeajoki and Petteri Waris, joined with equal commitment by the Ostrobothnian Chamber Orchestra under Tomas Djupsjöbacka.  

Living up to its title, Minna Leinonen’s Vyöry/Avalanche (2021-22) for accordion and string orchestra is a concertante score of unrest and sonorous drama, one to keep its listeners on the edge of their seats throughout its entire 16-minute arch, especially when performed with the intensity invested by Leinonen and the orchestra. 

“My plan was to write a work of another kind, but my thoughts repeatedly took me to accelerating bursts, streams and culminations. When composing this piece in 2021, worldwide changes avalanched through society, and the influences were not imperceptible in the distressed cultural sector, where bad news flooded one after another”, the composer writes in her note.

Accordion gestures and glissando strings set the mood, their ominous textures soon developing into volatile shapes, which are bound to clash and collide. Drawing breath, the music takes a while to regain its powers. Another crash landing ensues, as the material is looped into sonorous cycles – or series of variations – each assuming their own identities. Following a particularly impactful section of borderline noise, a scintillating interlude is heard, before the final climb and fall. Disintegrating into nothingness, the concerto falls silent. 

The Concerto for Two Accordions, String Orchestra and Percussion op. 115 (2019) is vintage Aulis Sallinen. Cast in two Duo concertante movements, the music is introduced in a kernel-like manner, its motif cells being developed through repetition and gradual variation. Sallinen’s trademark dance patterns enter halfway into the first movement on accordions, xylophone, castanets and strings, juxtaposed with deep, dark melodic arcs. Coloured by triangle and castanets, the movement comes to its close at around six and half minutes. 

Twice as long as the preceding movement, Duo concertante II comes into being with broader gestures which soon transform into quirky, scherzo-like music with pronounced accentuation. In quintessential Sallinen style, the music falls into a start-stop dramaturgy, as its choreographic tendencies become constantly drawn towards stasis. Finally, extended melodic lines gain shape, their lines being subjected to comments on mallet percussion. A dream-like cavalcade of dance idioms emerges, with enhanced lyricism in the solo parts. Marked by castanets, triangle, mallets and tremolo strings, the orchestra invites the accordionists into a steadfast coda.    

A formidable sister piece to Chamber Music V (Barabbas Variations) (2000) for accordion and strings, delivered with utmost musicality by Vertainen, Valkeajoki and the orchestra under Djupsjöbacka, the Sallinen concerto is pure joy. 

As suggested by its title, Veli Kujala’s four-movement Shape-Shifter (2018) adopts a chameleon-like shape and hue. The 22-minute concerto opens with flickering Lento affettuoso, followed by incessant accordion pulsations of Allegro con brio, accentuated by orchestral grunts and interjections. Tremolo upper strings and broad bass strokes introduce the Largo intensivo third movement, setting the stage for the soloist’s layered chords. More pensive tones prevail, leading into a prominent solo out of which a terrific closing climax is drawn. Marked Allegro con fuoco, the fourth movement comes off as finale proper, pairing fast-paced main sections with passages of groovy melancholy and sonorous mystery alike. 

A powerhouse performance from Waris, the Ostrobothnians and Djupsjöbacka, Kujala’s concerto provides an apt roundoff for this adventurous album. 

Jari Kallio is a Finnish music journalist and founder and executive editor of Adventures in Music