After adulation 
                  from both audiences and critics during Sibelius's lifetime, 
                  it was perhaps inevitable that the composer should be neglected 
                  by the former and disparaged by the latter during the 1940s 
                  and 1950s. But it was during this period that Herbert von Karajan 
                  became one of his most respected interpreters.
                As Richard Osborne, 
                  in his succinct and erudite notes suggests, "A mountain man 
                  by upbringing and inclination, Karajan appears to have an inborn 
                  understanding of Sibelius's mastery of time and space, of the 
                  music's seeming inevitability. Sibelius's highly developed sense 
                  of form was something Karajan knew as much by intuition as anything. 
                  He also revered the composer's ear for soundworlds that are 
                  integral to the music rather than applied as so much 'skilful 
                  orchestration'."
                Karajan's Finlandia 
                  is sure-footed, straightforward and swiftly-paced, without the 
                  sentimental wallowing of some rival recordings; this is patriotism 
                  noble, sincere and strong; those brass salvos biting and uncompromising 
                  in their defiance. The Karelia Suite (the popular movements: 
                  'Intermezzo' and 'Alla Marcia' here together with the more restrained 
                  and introspective 'Ballad') likewise receives engagingly virile, 
                  outgoing treatment.
                Sibelius's little 
                  gem Valse Triste is here given a most soulful reading, 
                  full of pathos. A dying woman, who has mistaken Death for her 
                  husband, dances with him before he claims her for his own. Karajan 
                  brings out all the nostalgic yearning of the woman and her hesitant, 
                  then joyful waltz steps as, perhaps, she recollects former happiness, 
                  then a faltering and a despairing acceptance of the present. 
                  The dance gains momentum until an ebony darkness overwhelms 
                  the music as Death triumphs. Karajan elevates Valse Triste 
                  into something more profound than mere salon music.
                En saga tended 
                  to puzzle observers because it had no identifiable narrative 
                  even though it is tautly evocative and atmospheric. Rather, 
                  as Sibelius himself suggested, it is an expression of a state 
                  of mind. However he identified the Norse mythology Edda 
                  as a source of atmosphere. He had experienced much personal 
                  trauma at the time of its composition and psychological shadows 
                  are apparent as well as more overt mythological and legend inspirations 
                  as well as those of extreme hostile environments. Karajan realises 
                  all its excitements and atmospherics and the Berlin strings 
                  rise to the challenge of Sibelius's astonishingly imaginative 
                  writing.
                The Swan of Tuonela, 
                  Sibelius's first incontestable masterpiece, inspired by lines 
                  from the national epic Kalevala evokes a land of death. 
                  Sibelius explained: "Tuonela, the hell of Finnish mythology, 
                  is surrounded by a large river with black waters and a rapid 
                  current, on which the Swan floats majestically singing". Again 
                  Osborne sagely notes, "There are echoes here of the desolate 
				opening of Wagner's Tristan und Isolde, another Karajan 
				speciality." This bleak, brooding atmospheric rendition has 
                  a baleful sense of brooding and foreboding and the cor anglais 
                  and cello solo lines are eloquent and beautifully evocative.
                Tapiola, 
                  Sibelius's last great masterpiece, greatly interested Karajan. 
                  Certainly this is a fascinating and penetrating reading of this 
                  dark, sombre work, Karajan so imaginatively conjures vivid sound-pictures 
                  of the terrible loneliness of the icy vastnesses and midnight 
                  blackness of the northern forests, the screeching winds, and 
                  the whirling snow obliterating chill landscapes. You also gain 
                  a notion of the dread Tapio, the ancient god of the forests, 
                  the orchestra braying terrifyingly at his approach as though 
                  a thousand wolves were following in his wake.
                Virile, atmospheric 
                  readings. Another classic to treasure in this series with very 
                  good sound. 
                Ian Lace