For most of the 1960s and 1970s Pettersson's 
                only commercial recording representation came from Swedish Society 
                Discofil. When Harold Moores had their sale during the autumn 
                of 1979 I bought those three LPs. The Mesto was coupled 
                with excerpts from Sibelius's Tempest music, symphonies 
                2 and 7 were on separate albums. Of this immersion I confess to 
                finding at the time little to grip me in the Mesto or in 
                the forbidding Second Symphony. The LPs were cheap and stacked 
                high so I felt little real disappointment even if I did regret 
                the money spent on the still inexplicable Bengt Hambraeus electronic 
                music disc. Such disappointment as there may have been was offset 
                anyway by picking up LPs of Nystroem's Sinfonia del Mare and 
                his Sinfonia Concertante - both of which spent many hours 
                on my turntable. 
              
 
              
The Mesto is the slow movement 
                of the monumental Concerto for No. 3 for strings. It can be heard 
                in full context with the other two Pettersson string concertos 
                on CPO 999 225-2. Do not look for humour in this music. If it 
                is there it wears a crooked and unstable smile. This is music 
                grave and stressed with vinegary Sibelian wraiths intimated at 
                18.48. That does not stop it being varied and indeed Pettersson's 
                trademark trudging and pattering rhythmic figures are there. So 
                are the keening acidic violins and the ruthlessly cycling baritonal 
                commentary of the violas and cellos. Its forty years show only 
                in the friable sound at the very start. (By the way it should 
                not be too long before Intim-Musik issue their CD of the two Nystroem 
                concertos for strings). 
              
 
              
The Second Symphony was written in Paris 
                behind the back of his teacher René Leibowitz (whose Beethoven 
                symphony cycle is on Chesky). It was created in the basement of 
                the Swedish Church. This is of about the same dimensions as the 
                Seventh Symphony and is also in a single movement. This is almost 
                unrelentingly the work of a nightmare depressive. Searing shreds 
                of Tchaikovskian string writing (Pathétique), Bergian 
                lyrical material, the scarred emotions of the Fourth symphonies 
                of Sibelius and Shostakovich (not that he would have known the 
                latter work) are refracted through a harsh surrealism - a dark 
                night of the soul indeed. There is some placid balm as at 8.10, 
                13.15. 29.48 but it is in short supply and brutally cut short 
                each time or shrivelled into gloom. There are some delicate moments 
                in this music but it is often as if Ravel's Ma Mère 
                l'Oye had been doused in acid. There is anger too in this 
                music. Memorable moments include the fluttered vulnerable and 
                stabbing trumpet fanfares at 28.10. Indeed a sharp thrust from 
                the trumpets ushers the work towards its close. The tenderness 
                of the Seventh Symphony is foreshadowed at 39.00 - a moment of 
                consolation which true to form is soon napalmed by Pettersson's 
                despairing reality. There is some analogue hiss but rarely do 
                you notice this. 
              
 
              
I keep hoping that Discofil will rescue from 
                vinyl oblivion three Pettersson recordings that never made it 
                to CD. There is the Sony LP (76553) of the Sixth Symphony where 
                the Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra were conducted by Okko Kamu. 
                The Philips double LP set (6767 951) of the Ninth Symphony in 
                which the Goteborg Symphony Orchestra were conducted by Sergiu 
                Comissiona. Also ripe for licensing if DG agree is the similarly 
                Comissiona/Baltimore LP of the Eighth Symphony (Polar/DG 2531 
                176). On these late 1970s discs the Pettersson revival, brought 
                to fruition by CPO and Bis, was built. No doubt the licensing 
                negotiations would be arduous but the artistic rewards from these 
                pioneering discs would be high. 
              
 
              
Not the place to start your Pettersson pilgrimage, 
                for that you need the magnificent Dorati version of the Seventh 
                also on Discofil. This is instead gritty, uncompromising and uningratiating, 
                where structural demands are seemingly alien and where spontaneity 
                and responsiveness to the moment leads the listener through a 
                fearsome realm. 
              
 
              
Pettersson enthusiasts must have this disc as 
                a record of the vivid and excoriating imagination of Pettersson, 
                Westerberg and the Swedish Society pioneers. 
              
Rob Barnett