This disc announces a brand-new Sibelius symphony cycle from 
                  Naxos under the baton of conductor Pietari Inkinen. At first 
                  I didn’t believe it: Naxos already has two cycles, and the number 
                  of core-repertoire works it has recorded three times is minuscule. 
                  Then I put the CD in the player and was in disbelief again: 
                  these symphonies are really conducted by the same person? The 
                  Third Symphony is excellent, finely detailed and driven forward 
                  with great rhythmic snap, while the First Symphony floats along 
                  in a solemn, murky haze. 
                  
                  Things get off to an ominous start with the First Symphony’s 
                  clarinet solo: played very well, but recorded too brightly, 
                  giving a smiling edge to a solo which ought to sound as if it 
                  is rising up from the depths. The main allegro takes off with 
                  insufficient forward momentum, as if the whole thing is being 
                  caught in ever-so-slight slow motion. This really begins to 
                  tell at 2:07, when the horns and timpani are curiously timid, 
                  and in the big Tchaikovskian moments in the strings afterwards, 
                  lacking in energy - especially uninspiring is the recap of this 
                  moment at 8:00. The same lazy tempi afflict the usually very 
                  violent outburst in the slow movement, the entire scherzo (here 
                  sleepy), and the oddly disjointed cataclysms of the finale. 
                  Indeed, the finale seems to get slower and heavier as it moves 
                  along, rather the way many conductors these days conduct Shostakovich’s 
                  Fifth, except that Sibelius is not Shostakovich, and the result 
                  is that the movement (Allegro molto!) becomes just tiresome. 
                  
                  
                  Part of the problem, no doubt, is that Leif Segerstam and the 
                  Helsinki Philharmonic recorded this symphony only a few years 
                  ago and set a new benchmark for thrills, passion, and sheer 
                  excitement, with a finale that always seems at danger of running 
                  off the rails - and then, of course, it does, just as Sibelius 
                  wished - and imposing brass and timpani all around. Listen to 
                  the two back-to-back and Inkinen’s performance sounds a bit 
                  like a rehearsal to make sure everyone can play the notes. 
                  
                  There are good moments in this Inkinen First, and one great 
                  one: the second subject of the first movement is delivered with 
                  extraordinary intimacy and, when it is entrusted to the clarinet, 
                  there is a moment of actual magic (9:52-11:00). The clarinet, 
                  the harp, the trumpet, the horns sneaking in: all perfect. The 
                  New Zealand first trumpet and flute deliver especially haunting 
                  solos. But the intimacy and intensity of this moment would have 
                  been even better had they contrasted with a really tempestuous 
                  climate – the calm between storms. Unfortunately, this performance 
                  is all calm and no storms. 
                  
                  I started to listen to the Third with trepidation – so imagine 
                  my surprise when it turned out to be excellent! This performance 
                  actually has the necessary pacing to make the symphony work, 
                  and work wonderfully: the first movement opens up like a sunrise 
                  and is positively radiant throughout, and the finale bubbles 
                  up naturally from its humble beginnings. The “big tune” is indulged 
                  just a little bit before the symphony builds to a thoroughly 
                  impressive climax. Best of all, though, is Inkinen’s slow movement, 
                  maybe my favorite reading of this movement: time seems not to 
                  exist here, because even though the computer tells me this is 
                  a slow reading, it whisks me through a world of fantasy. There 
                  is a ghostly procession of some kind (2:10 on, aided by the 
                  lovely muted strings), and later on the flute, clarinet, and 
                  oboe contribute outstanding solos. It doesn’t get any better 
                  than this. 
                  
                  The most frustrating things to review are not the outright bad 
                  things but those which could have been great had just one or 
                  two elements been different. This is a hugely frustrating CD, 
                  because Pietari Inkinen’s Third Symphony is the equal of any 
                  currently available - my other favorites are Segerstam in Helsinki, 
                  Davis on LSO Live, and Olli Mustonen’s very different view on 
                  Ondine - but his First simply lacks the necessary energy. Instead, 
                  try Mark Elder’s excellent Hallé album, Davis in Boston, or, 
                  best of all, Berglund or Segerstam in Helsinki. The New Zealand 
                  Symphony Orchestra plays with consistent excellence and the 
                  engineers do a good job, excepting that over-bright clarinet 
                  solo, which makes this review even more frustrating. Can I recommend 
                  this CD? I do not think so. If you can find an mp3 download 
                  site, like ClassicsOnline or Passionato, which allows you to 
                  download the Third Symphony only, that is your best option. 
                  
                  
                  The mp3 option is particularly attractive because the presentation 
                  of this disc is not inspiring. Keith Anderson has written exactly 
                  the same liner-note he wrote for the Petri Sakari Sibelius disc, 
                  with two sentences of new material but with an old grammar mistake 
                  uncorrected. There is another advantage to not buying a physical 
                  CD: if you spend too much time reading the back of the case, 
                  you will notice that the cover photo of the Northern Lights 
                  was snapped not in Sibelius’ native Finland but in Canada. Now 
                  why did they do that? 
                  
                  Brian Reinhart