The very title of Thoresen’s Symphonic Concerto 
          for violin and orchestra makes it clear that this ambitious and substantial 
          work is much more than a mere virtuoso showpiece. The soloist does not 
          stand out on his own, but rather has a complex and varied relationship 
          with the large orchestral forces. The violin’s role varies considerably 
          throughout this long piece: once a leader, then a follower but always 
          a committed partner, a real primus inter pares. It nevertheless 
          has its moments of virtuosity and cadenza-like passages, but most of 
          the time it is deeply involved in musical discourse, often of real symphonic 
          proportions. The concerto is in three sizeable movements, of which the 
          first one acts as a long introduction stating some basic material, whereas 
          the other two develop most of the initial material. Thus, the second 
          movement, predominantly slow, presents lyrical variants while the third 
          is of a much more dramatic character. Another notable feature of Thoresen’s 
          Symphonic Concerto is the use of electronically generated 
          sounds at the start of each movement. In the second movement, though, 
          the electronic sounds have a more important role adding a new dimension 
          to the music’s often impassioned lyricism. As already noted, this is 
          a long and weighty piece, though it is – to me at least – a bit too 
          long for its material and a bit uncertain of its aims and means, which 
          results in some eclecticism. I for one regret that Thoresen did not 
          develop the electronic material, which would have considerably enlarged 
          the music’s emotional range. As a whole, however, and in spite of some 
          eclecticism, the Symphonic Concerto is a large-scale impressive 
          achievement in its own right. 
        
 
        
In comparison, the beautiful Illuminations 
          for two cellos and orchestra is more compact, though with as much variety 
          as its companion. Again, this is a powerfully lyrical utterance often 
          exulting in mighty, almost ecstatic climaxes. From the stylistic point 
          of view, it is much more coherent, though it obviously is from the same 
          pen; and it never outstays its welcome. We are told that in 1971 Thoresen 
          converted to the Bahá’i Religion, which apparently exerted some 
          lasting influence on his musical thinking. Now, I must confess that 
          I do not know what this religion may be; but, even ignoring this, one 
          feels some overtly mystical intent in this beautifully gripping work 
          which moreover is a most welcome addition to the limited repertoire 
          of double cello concertos. (I can only think of the late Tristan Keuris’s 
          concerto for two cellos and orchestra, that – unfortunately enough – 
          I have never heard so far.) 
        
 
        
In short, two substantial and ambitious works in a 
          clear 20th Century enlarged expressionistic, but very communicative 
          and eloquent idiom which vastly repay repeated hearings, especially 
          in such fine performances and recordings as these. A most welcome release, 
          well worth investigating. 
        
 
        
        
Hubert Culot