In a language carrying 
                  the stigmata of Jon Leifs, Messiaen's Turangalila and 
                  the later Panufnik Tüür's Magma is part-symphony and 
                  part-Concerto. There’s often jazzy syncopation to add to the 
                  palette. The work’s bearing and trajectory make it more symphony 
                  than concerto with the display almost always called for by the 
                  exigencies of the format. There are however moments when display 
                  seems in the ascendancy - for example at 16:00 onwards where 
                  the athletically active Glennie can almost be seen running full 
                  tilt from one instrument to another. It's an imposing work inhabiting 
                  a sound-world consonant with the primal molten material to which 
                  its title refers. The work ends in a malcontented jangling haze 
                  of sound punctuated by scamper and crash and then by a fade 
                  to niente. 
                Inquiétude du fini is distinguished by string and choral ululations and 
                  by a slalom sway recalling Penderecki and Hovhaness. The choral 
                  writing which is wonderfully done feels Gallic rather than archetypically 
                  Scandinavian. At times the more rhythmic material is redolent 
                  of Tippett (11:30). The earliest work here, this piece is notably 
                  more indebted to Schoenbergian dissonance than Magma. 
                Igavik is a portrait of the Estonian statesman and friend of 
                  the composer Lennart Meri. It was written for his funeral service 
                  and is intended to convey a short description of Meri's life. 
                  The music manages to be dark and yet to glitter with light and 
                  a sort of heroic awe.
                The Path and the 
                  Traces was written 
                  during a family holiday in Crete.  It's a work of quiet and 
                  disquiet, prompted by the experience of hearing Greek Orthodox 
                  plainchant, by the music of Arvo Part and by the death of Tüür's 
                  father. It's universe is ultimately confiding and consoling 
                  – a still small voice lapping and murmuring. 
                The notes are by Martin 
                  Anderson of Toccata fame and show respect and understanding. 
                  The recording is extremely well done. 
                Exceptional and patently 
                  sincere new music only failing to convince this listener in 
                  the display sections of the symphony. 
                Rob Barnett