Naxos have a reputation for enterprise and ingenuity. Capitalising 
                on the popularity of Philip Glass they now issue as a single entity 
                the two discs issued over the last five years and another dating 
                from almost a decade ago. The collection makes sense and is undeniably 
                attractive.
                
The Second Symphony 
                  is for full orchestra. It is an ambitious work in three 
                  meaty movements of which the first has an insistent harp undertow 
                  and sighing figures that sometimes recall the first movement 
                  of Vaughan Williams’ Sixth. Fast-spinning incessant whirlpool 
                  activity characterises the finale emphasised by bell-sounds 
                  at the climaxes and ending in an emphatic stomp.
                
Flight and propulsion 
                  lie at the heart of the much of Glass’s writing. In the Third 
                  Symphony it’s there in the constant insistent interplay 
                  of colour and repetitive rhythmic cells. Another element is 
                  the Berber, North African sinuous flavouring and the thudding 
                  regularity of the strings’ Holstian heart-beat.
                
The Light 
                  is part of an ambitious Sibelian symphonic 
                  triptych (1987-89) alongside the later The Canyon and 
                  Itaipu. It is a stormy piece in which Glass’s insistent 
                  ostinato cells ripple, flow, fall and return. I thought several 
                  times of the gripping troika-figure in Sibelius’s Nightride 
                  and Sunrise. This however has grander intentions. Memorable 
                  are its lapping-sighing-flaming woodwind and string figure akin 
                  to Herrmann’s chase music from North by North-West. There 
                  is a typically visceral pounding and thudding tempest of a climax 
                  before the music falls away into contemplation. 
                
The 
                  Heroes Symphony traces its origins to two 
                  albums on which the composer collaborated with David Bowie in 
                  Berlin: Heroes (1977) and Lodger (1979). The six 
                  movements of the symphony are: Heroes; Abdulmajid; 
                  Sense of Doubt; Sons of the Silent Age; Neuköln; 
                  V2 Schneider. I wish I knew what these titles meant. 
                  The second movement is a fragile and enchanting with its North 
                  African repetitive understatement recalling Holst’s In the 
                  Street of Ouled Nails movement from Beni Mora. At 
                  times I also heard intimations of de Falla (the ostinatos El 
                  Amor Brujo) and Copland (the 1940s pastoral scores).
                
The disc which has 
                  been longest in the catalogue is that featuring the Violin 
                  Concerto in a good performance from Adele Anthony but not 
                  one that outpoints the one from Robert McDuffie on Telarc (CD-80494) 
                  or, even more imposingly, the original DG recording with Gidon 
                  Kremer. Anthony is notably good in the wonderful way in which 
                  she handles the more confiding music in the finale. Both Company 
                  and Akhnaten do no violence to your expectations 
                  of Glass. No surprises then but attractive music-making. This 
                  disc lacks the compelling qualities of the other two.
                
              
Glass stays firmly 
                in his accustomed and enthralling tracks. These are musical experiences 
                that engage and draw you in. His potent way with hypno-rhythmic 
                tonal writing continues in full spate. 
                
                Rob Barnett