I was very impressed with this 
                  orchestra’s last Sibelius offering (review 
                  review) 
                  and on this new disk there is even more to admire and enjoy.
                 
                
Nightride and Sunrise 
                  has long been a favourite work of mine – the galloping forward 
                  momentum, with flashes of themes rushing across the musical 
                  landscape, the journey we’re taken on. As we approach the sunrise, 
                  which is the second half of the work, the music broadens and 
                  becomes lighter; with the dawning of a new day the terrors of 
                  the night pass. This is truly magnificent stuff. Inkinen and 
                  his orchestra convey the ride well, and the relentlessness of 
                  the barren landscape through which we are traveling is laid 
                  out before us; when dawn breaks there is the most wonderful 
                  horn playing, and later, the woodwind figurations are delicate 
                  and precise. Towards the end there is the most brilliant climax 
                  which Inkinen builds with care and places it perfectly within 
                  his concept of the piece as a whole. This is almost as fine 
                  a performance as my favourite by the London Symphony an Antal 
                  Dorati (EMI 
                  Gemini 585 7852) which no collection 
                  should be without.
                 
                
Nothing can really follow Nightride 
                  and Sunrise and the poor little Pan and Echo doesn’t 
                  stand a chance, which is a shame for it is a lovely piece – 
                  one of Sibelius’s many examples of light music: I am sure that 
                  many of us made our first acquaintance with this work on an 
                  EMI LP of Sibelius’s lighter music played by the Royal Liverpool 
                  Philharmonic under Charles Groves (now available on EMI 
                  Classics Gemini 7243 5 85532 2 2). It’s a winsome little 
                  piece, a gorgeous slow opening section giving way to a bacchanalian 
                  dance 
                 
                
Belshazzar’s Feast was a play by Hjalmar 
                  Procopé, which has sunk without trace. The complete incidental 
                  music was recorded by Osmo Vänskä and the Lahti Symphony Orchestra 
                  as part of the BIS complete Sibelius series (BIS–CD–735, coupled 
                  with the incidental music to Jedermann, op.83 (1916)) 
                  but it is the Suite, heard here, which has achieved many 
                  recordings since Kajanus’s pioneering 78s made in 1931. The 
                  four movements are full of mock eastern promise and are wholly 
                  uncharacteristic of their composer, but they are very enjoyable 
                  nonetheless. But this incidental music pales beside the superb 
                  pieces from Kuolema (Death), a play by Sibelius’s 
                  brother–in–law Armas Järnefelt – the complete incidental music 
                  can be found on BIS–CD–915 played by the Lahti Symphony under 
                  Vänskä, coupled with the incidental music to Karelia 
                  (1893). What is interesting about these four pieces is that 
                  they were created from the incidental music and have found places 
                  in the repertoire – especially the Valse triste, tinged, 
                  as it is, with a bitter sweet melancholy. Scene with Cranes 
                  is a very dramatic piece, while Canzonetta is an elegiac 
                  movement for stings and the Valse romantique is just 
                  that. A Finnish waltz? What will they think of next? These last 
                  two pieces are more of Sibelius’s huge catalogue of lighter 
                  pieces and they are charming. 
                Between these two sets of theatre music come 
                  two more light miniatures. The Dryad is a peculiar little 
                  piece for it has big intentions. There’s a strange chromatic 
                  figure which keeps re–appearing on strings and winds, some beautiful 
                  muted string music, and a big brass dominated climax near the 
                  beginning. It’s strangely static for the music seems suspended 
                  in mid air, with no real idea of where it is going, but yet 
                  it’s a very complete and satisfying miniature. The following 
                  Tanz–Intermezzo is another oddity; part suave waltz, part fandango, complete with 
                  castanets. 
                 
                
As with Inkinen’s previous Sibelius disk this is very enjoyable and 
                  with the orchestra recorded slightly away from the microphones 
                  you can turn up the volume and have a wonderful aural experience 
                  for the recorded sound is magnificent. I loved every minute 
                  of it and this is a real must have which should not be missed 
                  at any cost. 
                 Bob 
                  Briggs  
                
See 
                  also review by Rob Barnett