Vasks' 
                catalogue includes many smaller scale works, often choral. Perestroika 
                and the restored independence of Latvia led to the composition 
                of a series of much larger-scale works. In addition to the two 
                represented here there are the First Symphony Balsis or 
                Stimmen or Voices (for strings) (1990-91) and the 
                Cello Concerto (1993-94).  
              
 
              
The 
                First Symphony Balsis ('Voices') was composed during the 
                upheavals of the late 1980s with the ejection of the Soviets and 
                street fighting and casualties in Riga and Vilnius. That conflict 
                is mirrored in the violence in the first movement of the Second 
                Symphony. At 10.03 however the music possesses a meditative 
                calm like that broadcast by the prayerful string writing in Arvo 
                Pärt's Cantus. This returns in the last five minutes 
                of the work - the calm of benediction, the peace of homecoming 
                after grief. Before that there is strong neo-Sibelian writing 
                with some most un-Sibelian writing for percussion (23.00). This 
                rises to a long lyrical sunburst of a climax combining the ecstatic 
                qualities of the finales of Ravel's Ma Mère l'Oye and 
                de Falla's El Amor Brujo. Then just as we are sure this 
                will all end in a glowing sunset comes a sudden violent disenchantment 
                in which Shostakovichian vitriol blasts the scene. The composer 
                tells us much about dissolution and the collapse of things into 
                chaos but then finds a sometimes gaudy triumph that rises above 
                destruction. This work was premiered by the Bournemouth Symphony 
                Orchestra conducted by Yakov Kreizberg during the 1999 Proms. 
                It was a BBC commission.  
              
 
              
The 
                Violin Concerto is an epic meditation which like the Second 
                Symphony is in a single movement. Tālā Gaisma (Distant 
                Light) is a concerto for solo violin and large string orchestra. 
                It begins with the violin warbling high and quiet in the stratosphere. 
                Sporting Hovhaness-like slides and a benign, invocational atmosphere 
                this work was composed after a request from Gidon Kremer. The 
                composer discovered that Kremer had attended the same school. 
                Vasks describes the work as 'nostalgia with a touch of tragedy. 
                Childhood memories, but also the glittering stars millions of 
                light years away." The mood is comparable with the wondering almost 
                cerebral calm of Urmis Sisasks ‘star’ pieces. Other echoes include 
                the Introit by Gerald Finzi, Arvo Pärt's Cantus, 
                Gorecki's Symphony of Sorrowful Songs and Kancheli's Simi. 
                There are several episodes of spirited virtuosity as in the Miaskovsky-inflected 
                section at 14.18, the violent 'hailstorm' at 25.50 and the grand 
                stretto at 16.43 the latter of which reminded me of Bliss's Music 
                for Strings. At the end there is the shred of a reminiscence 
                of a Prokofiev-like dance and a retreat into the stratospheric 
                firmament out of which the work emerged. Magical! The work was 
                premiered by Kremer at the Salzburg Festival in 1997; the first 
                time in the festival's history that a Latvian work had been performed 
                there.  
              
 
              
The 
                notes by Johan Christiaan Snel are judged to perfection. Musical 
                technicalities are completely absent. Both works are luminously 
                recorded and although the sessions were in two locations there 
                are no jarring differences.  
              
 
              
These 
                are two rewarding lyrical works written during the last decade, 
                generously coupled, passionately performed and luminously recorded. 
                
              
Rob 
                Barnett