Baltic 
                Voices indeed ... and from the last one hundred years. This first 
                disc in the exploratory series led by Paul Hillier turns its gaze 
                on secular and sacred music from Estonia, Latvia, Sweden and Finland. 
                 
              
 
              
Hillier 
                was appointed director of this choir in 2001. You can find more 
                about them at www.epcc.ee but 
                they were founded by Tōnu Kaljuste. They are strong in all 
                departments as is amply demonstrated by the burnished singing 
                in the second movement of the Kreek Psalms.  
              
 
              
Kreek's 
                four movement Psalms of David stand between the 
                splendour of Rachmaninov's Vespers and Liturgy and 
                Bax's Mater Ora Filium. They bear strong resemblance to 
                both works though unison rather than multi-part singing is in 
                the ascendant. His choral writing may also remind you of that 
                of Veljo Tormis. Kreek is not, however, one for complexity. This 
                perhaps relates back to his grounding in Estonian folk music. 
                He was the first collector of Estonian folk music to use a phonograph. His 
                Requiem should be well worth seeking out.  
              
 
              
The 
                Swedish composer Sandstrøm adopts a much more complex 
                skein of writing with multiform lines interacting with greater 
                lustre than in the Kreek. He transforms the Purcell original of 
                Hear my prayer into a staggering glower of sound. 
                Es ist genug quotes a Swedish song as well as a 
                passage from Buxtehude's cantata Eins bitte ich vom Herrn. 
                This is prayerful as well as something ‘rich and strange’. 
                At times it is as if Sandstrøm holds convention up to a 
                creative prism and re-tunes the light and life in each note. This 
                is especially true of the concentrated slowness of Es ist genug. 
                 
              
 
              
Rautavaara 
                has over the years moved with ease from tuneful to the ultima 
                thule boundaries of dodecaphony. His Lorca Suite is 
                harmonically rich and predominantly lyrical not that he shrinks 
                from getting the choir to slide and careen down and up the scales. 
                The work is full of a folk-like vigour drawn from the ‘Kalevala’ 
                and related to Tormis whose use of the ‘Kalevipoeg’ the Estonian 
                counterpart of the Finns' ‘Kalevala’.  
              
 
              
Tormis 
                is a familiar presence in the contemporary choral scene. He 
                tends towards the unison simplicity of Kreek but is by no means 
                pedantic. Folk voices are strong in his music. Another of his 
                hallmarks is the terracing of voices with semi-chorus effects, 
                solos and chamber choir gestures - linking to other traditions 
                such as the waulking and other work songs of the Gaelic North-West. 
                Neither is this folk culture preserved in aspic. Try the Midsummer 
                Song where great gales of intense lyrical sound burst the 
                bounds. This is the first recording of the Latvian Bourdon 
                Songs.  
              
 
              
The 
                Pärt is the only piece to have words set in 
                English. It was written for Reykjavik's year as European City 
                of Culture (which comes to 'my' nearby Liverpool in 2008). After 
                years of ultra-serial works he emerged in the late 1970s with 
                works of spiritual tonality such as the Britten Cantus. The 
                piece featured here sets the words of the Bible. They recite the 
                lineage of Christ all the way back to Adam, son of God. It of 
                course repeats the words 'which was the son of ...' many times. 
                It is often extremely simple, a rocking and reassuring cradling. 
                Complexity, rather like Tippett's writing in The Windhover, 
                obtrudes from time to time. Forgive the trivial film reference 
                but I could not help thinking of the choral litany in the superb 
                sci-fi film Enemy Mine in which Dennis Quaid learns to 
                recite the lineage of 'Tsamis'.  
              
 
              
The 
                Vasks is in one sense the 'odd man out' here in that it 
                is the only work on the disc in which the voices are accompanied 
                by an 18-strong chamber orchestra. This is strings only as is 
                the orchestra in his Violin Concerto (dedicated to Gidon Kremer). 
                What we have is a single quarter hour movement of the choral and 
                orchestral music radiating an undeniable and sustained brightness. 
                It is meditative and that element is accentuated by the Tallis-like 
                string writing. However in its intense climactic moments it will 
                also remind you of the great choral ‘conflagrations’ to be heard 
                in Moussorgsky and Rachmaninov (Sveshnikov's still unequalled 
                1965 recording of the Vespers, for example). Interestingly 
                Paul Hillier's notes comment on parallels with the Polish school 
                of the 1960s and on Vasks' grieving over the ecological destruction 
                wrought by the Soviets in Baltic waters.  
              
 
              
The 
                words are printed in full alongside comprehensive notes in English, 
                French and German. The singing is allowed to ring out without 
                punches being pulled and the church resonance warms the listener's 
                heart.  
              
 
              
These 
                lyrical yet always challenging works should be finding their way 
                onto the playlists of the world's radio stations and into the 
                programmes of choirs across the continents. They are not in any 
                sense 'ivory tower' products but welcome the listener with open 
                arms. 
              
Rob 
                Barnett