So much of modern music springs from Schoenberg that 
          groups specialising in modern music are almost compelled to use him 
          as a touchstone. Simon Rattle and the Birmingham Contemporary Music 
          Group did it with the Chamber Symphonies early in their existence, and 
          the Swedish group Ma open their discography with the craziest work of 
          them all, Pierrot Lunaire. 
        
 
        
It is a version I have a few problems with. Firstly, 
          so dry is the recording acoustic (perhaps in an over-zealous search 
          for clarity) that it sounds as if it has been recorded in a particularly 
          horrible practice room. It does the violin, in particular, no favours, 
          and is a constant deadening effect on this disc. The second is the approach 
          of the reciter, Ing-Britt Ibba Andersson. Sprechstimme is not an exact 
          science, but my taste prefers a bit more sprech than she offers – there 
          is a fair sit of singing in her approach. I am reluctant to criticise 
          too much on the grounds of personal taste, especially as Ibba Andersson 
          has a good feeling for cabaret, and she is always involving and dramatic. 
          The overall approach verges on the cool, and although the playing is 
          not at all bad, this version is very much in the shadow of the recent 
          version with Pierre Boulez and Christine Schäfer. 
        
 
        
The rest of the disc is more interesting. Two works 
          here by Chrichan Larson, cellist in the ensemble, particularly caught 
          my attention. Both show an imaginative use of sound, and a talent for 
          unfolding an interesting and engaging dialogue. Väsen is particularly 
          interesting, using a prepared piano to underline moments of tension, 
          although I am not so sure the gurgling bass clarinet interlude in the 
          manner of a pig was strictly necessary. Cordes at Tuyau is a more conventional 
          clarinet trio. 
        
 
        
Two more "standards" finish the disc, a masterful 
          quartet by Anton Webern, and a chamber work that shows what beautiful 
          music Pierre Boulez can write whenever he gets around to it. I always 
          find it ironic that for a composer who places such a premium on the 
          quality of musical material, he has written such magnificent chamber 
          music from inconsequential cells suggested by arbitrary, non-musical 
          impulses. This Derive, written to commission, uses the letters from 
          the name Paul Sacher, but its gorgeous soundworld and compulsive working 
          out make it very obviously a piece of the highest quality. The performance 
          here is equally compulsive. 
          Aidan Twomey