"God’s ways are impenetrable", as the saying 
          goes (at least, in French), and one might add that recording companies’ 
          ways are often as impenetrable as the Lord’s. With three recordings 
          of his music released over the last few years and with the present disc, 
          Georges Lentz’s complete current published output is now available in 
          commercial recordings. I hasten to say that there is nothing wrong with 
          this, for Lentz’s music is well worth having and repays repeated hearings. 
        
 
        
His output, so far, consists of several works, all 
          parts of his ongoing cycle Caeli enarrant... of which 
          the second and sixth panels are still works-in-progress; and are, to 
          the best of my knowledge, still unfinished at the time of writing. The 
          collective title of the cycle comes from Psalm XIX and reflects the 
          composer’s interest in astronomy as well as his religious concerns, 
          though Lentz is no Messiaen, in that he often questions some religious 
          dogmas. A section from Caeli enarrant...IV is titled Te 
          Deum Laudamus (it is also available as a short piece for string 
          orchestra) though the composer keeps asking if "it does make sense 
          to praise God while the TV is showing pictures of Iraq, Rwanda, the 
          Balkans and the Middle East". So, no saintliness here, but a contemporary 
          man’s meditation and questioning of life and death, the present world 
          and (maybe) the hereafter. There is, however, nothing narrowly parochial 
          in Lentz’s music either, even if it has moments suggesting the timelessness 
          of plainchant as in the end of Caeli enarrant...III or 
          that of Caeli enarrant...IV. 
        
 
        
In total contrast to the first panel (available on 
          LGNM’s Anthologie de musique luxembourgeoise – Volume 5 review 
          ) scored for large orchestra, Caeli enarrant...III 
          is sparsely scored for a small string orchestra, percussion and a boy 
          soprano (in the beautiful, hymn-like third movement), and is on the 
          whole more austerely meditative though it has its weightier episodes. 
          Caeli enarrant...IV, for string quartet and four cymbals, 
          moves in still more rarefied air though it too has some louder episodes. 
          It opens with a tense, arresting gesture (the four strings, as it were, 
          trying to find their way out of the forcefully reiterated central note 
          on which the whole work is centred). The music, in spite of many long, 
          expectant pauses and thinly scored passages, progressively gains momentum 
          before eventually reaching its ethereal conclusion. 
        
  
        
Mysterium (or Caeli enarrant...VII), 
          apparently, is the final instalment of a cycle of which four panels 
          have been completed so far. Ngangkar and Guyuhmgan 
          (both for orchestra) are available on ABC CLASSICS 472 397-2 reviewed 
          in September 2002, and the two panels recorded here, Birrung 
          (Aboriginal word for "star") for small string orchestra and 
          Nguurraa ("Light") for clarinet, violin, cello, 
          piano and percussion. Birrung and Nguurraa 
          are both predominantly contemplative pieces in much the same way as 
          the orchestral panels of Mysterium. Their instrumental 
          settings, however, enhance the meditative mood of most of the music, 
          particularly so in the beautiful Birrung, a short movement 
          of ecstatic beauty. 
        
 
        
Lentz’s quantitatively few but qualitatively high output 
          is the expression of an honest and sincere creativity reflecting deeply 
          personal experience. Lentz’s voice is definitely distinctive - one to 
          be reckoned with. The present performances serve the music well. I enjoyed 
          Coorey’s urgent reading of the often austere Caeli enarrant...IV 
          (an earlier recording on TALL POPPIES TP 035 with the composer as one 
          of the violins plays for an extra four minutes). Warmly recommended. 
        
 
        
Hubert Culot