This imaginatively planned programme 
          conducted by Osmo Vänskä with the Finnish Lahti Symphony Orchestra 
          opened with a consciously subdued account of Carl Nielsen’s Overture 
          'Helios' (the sun God in Greek mythology), the opening strings 
          taking on a very hushed murmuring quality. Nielsen stated that the overture 
          was inspired by watching the sun rise over the Aegean Sea (though he 
          confessed later that it was not ‘programme music’). Throughout, the 
          conductor maintained a sustained sense of reserve and distance, as if 
          we were experiencing the sun through a haze of fog, and his orchestra 
          produced some very warm, mellow and refined playing.
          
          This Prom was also the London premiere of Kalevi Aho’s Symphony Number 
          Nine for trombone and orchestra (1993-4). Though written for one 
          of the world’s great trombonist virtuosi, Christian Lindberg, this work 
          is not merely a trombone concerto masquerading as a symphony. Lindberg 
          eschewed the role of star soloist, sensitively integrating with the 
          orchestra as a conflicting voice amongst many. Sporting a frilly gigolo 
          ‘seventies shirt and red silken tight trousers, he played both trombone 
          and sackbut in the manner of a free-style jazz musician with great panache 
          and precision. 
        
        In the post-modernist manner of 
          Alfred Schnittke, Aho 
          juxtaposes historically distinct styles from the fruitiest, frivolous 
          baroque dances (played by the harpsichord and strings) conflicting with 
          modernist Mahlerian angst (brass and timpani), for example in the closing 
          of the Andante – Vivace with its bizarre juxtaposition of humour 
          from the harpsichord and horror from the timpani and base drum which 
          gave a sensation of voluptuous violence.
        
        The symphony reveals, through 
          its juxtaposition of the old and new, the collapsing of time itself 
          through the conflict of musical styles: the music of the past suddenly 
          meets the music of the present which itself suddenly becomes the music 
          of the past. 
        For Aho both the past and present 
          become conflicting, floating fictions which are erased by time but saved 
          by memory.
        
        This is further demonstrated in 
          the Adagio central movement, part of which Aho said represents 
          ‘the end of time or completion of history’. As the memory of the end 
          of time, Aho’s score is not ‘contemporary’ but timeless.
          
        The concluding Presto was 
          rivettingly intense with the concluding sounds spilling out of the orchestra 
          complemented by Lindberg’s vocal sounds (where he is required to vocalise 
          into his instrument, projecting grunting sounds during his trombone 
          cadenza.) Again the tinkling harpsichord and nailing timpani brought 
          this work to a timeless end. The shattering intensity of this inspired 
          performance made me feel numbed and exhausted and the audience appeared 
          gripped and intoxicated throughout. The composer was rightly given a 
          very warm reception, as also were the soloist and conductor. 
        This evening was also the UK premiere 
          of Sibelius’s Aallottaret (The Oceanides, Yale version 
          1914) which Vänskä discovered last year. Some of the 
          music in this earlier score is known although the themes appear in a 
          different order, and its home key is D flat rather than D major of the 
          final version. Vänskä brought out the chamber-like textures 
          allowing us to hear every member of the orchestra which also included 
          two timpanists who set the atmosphere of this sparkling score throughout. 
          Notably superb was the chilling, pointed woodwind playing. 
        Sibelius’ Third Symphony in 
          C major opened with a grainy and rugged cello and viola sound 
          which set the mood for Vänskä’s gutsy yet melancholic reading 
          of this under-played and underrated score. The Andantino was 
          the most moving account I have heard of this symphony: Vänskä 
          conducted it without a baton and gracefully moulded the orchestra, coaxing 
          out buoyant rhythms from the expressively sensitive strings.
        
        In the Presto, Vänskä 
          had a total grasp of the score’s structure and very wide dynamic range, 
          and created a great sense of nervous tension and a feeling of unfolding 
          organic growth. The closing passages were perfectly measured and slowly 
          built to create a glowing sense of awe from the radiant brass: a mesmerising 
          performance.
        
          While the Royal Albert Hall was sadly only one third full, the appreciative 
          Promenaders gave the conductor and orchestra a very warm reception and 
          were rewarded with two encores. Sibelius’ Valse Triste was given 
          a reading worthy of Sergiu Celibidache with its wide dynamic range, 
          measured tempi and eloquent dance rhythms.
          
          In this Prom Osmo Vänskä proved himself to be a superb Sibelian 
          and a great exponent of Aho’s miraculous music. A truly unforgettable 
          evening of inspired music making.
        
        Alex Russell