In April this year (2009) the Stockholm Concert Hall arranged 
                a Composer Weekend devoted to B. Tommy Andersson. It was a fine 
                tribute to ‘one of Sweden’s most animated composer voices of today’ 
                as Sofia Nyblom wrote in her review in Svenska Dagbladet. 
              
He may be better 
                    known as a conductor. According to his homepage a complete 
                    list of his conducted works would comprise 873 works including 
                    132 first performances. A great number of operas, ballets 
                    and even operettas reveal a deep interest in music theatre 
                    and I think it is right to say that theatricality is an important 
                    ingredient in his own composing.
                  
He started writing 
                    music at an early age and the first work performed in public 
                    was a Prelude and Fugue in F major, for organ in 1979 
                    when he was fifteen. Since then his work-list has expanded 
                    rapidly in various genres, but during the first half of the 
                    1990s he composed very little due to his intense conducting 
                    activities. The last decade has, on the other hand, been very 
                    productive.
                  
Not surprisingly 
                    his oeuvre includes an opera – William, a fantasy on 
                    William Shakespeare, commissioned by the Vadstena Academy 
                    and premiered in 2006. The three piano pieces on this disc 
                    are based on musical material from the opera and refer to 
                    different episodes in the libretto. It is dedicated to the 
                    choreographer and dancer Pontus Lindberg and the degree of 
                    difficulty is adjusted to Lindberg’s capacity as a good amateur 
                    pianist. The first piece, Secret Theatre, is rhythmic 
                    and the third, Seductive Games, is lively and energetic, 
                    as is proper for a dancer. In between Ganymede is a 
                    moment of repose with the sounds of soft bells.
                  
Satyricon 
                    is also related to dance, though not originally intended to 
                    be so. It is inspired by a novel by Gaius Petronius, an ancient 
                    Roman author who died in 66 AD. It is not exactly programme 
                    music, rather as Andersson puts it in his commentary ‘a concert 
                    piece in the spirit of Petronius’s novel’. The subheading 
                    ‘Choreographic Poem’ has to do with a growing feeling Andersson 
                    had during the composition process that it would be suitable 
                    for dancing. He dedicated it to the memory of choreographer 
                    and dancer Per Jonsson (1956–1998) whose work he had always 
                    admired. Satyricon is in one movement but is divided 
                    into four clearly differentiated parts. It opens with airy, 
                    transparent music, lyrical and melodious, which grows in intensity. 
                    Then follows a part that is rhythmic and energetic, repetitive 
                    but stirring and suggestive. The third episode is soft and 
                    restrained and rather melancholy, while the final segment 
                    is aggressive but full of vitality. Not having read the novel 
                    which the notes tell us is a ‘rather indelicate story [consisting] 
                    of several amusing, passionate and odd episodes’, I can sense 
                    the composer’s will to communicate. Without resorting to seductive 
                    melodies and sweet harmonies his music is accessible and captivating.
                  
His setting of 
                    what is probably Shakespeare’s best known sonnet, Shall 
                    I Compare Thee to a Summer’s Day with its high-lying cantilena 
                    for the sopranos is truly beautiful. It is worthy to set beside 
                    Nils Lindberg’s setting of the same text some twenty years 
                    ago, a work that quickly established itself as a standard 
                    among Swedish choirs. The Swedish Radio Choir under Peter 
                    Dijkstra retains the high standards we have been used to for 
                    so many years. For the other choral piece, Kyssar vill 
                    jag dricka, settings of some verses from The Song of Songs, 
                    Andersson has used Arabian scales to underline the Oriental 
                    background of the texts.
                  
Influences from 
                    another direction are met in Reflections, with references 
                    to both John Dowland and Benjamin Britten. The melodic material 
                    is based on Dowland’s song Wing’d with Hopes. The piece 
                    is a vehicle for the superb Anders Paulsson and his soprano 
                    saxophone. After a soft opening the solo part becomes ever 
                    more intricate and Paulsson has few seconds of rest during 
                    the twelve minutes playing time.
                  
The longest and 
                    also the earliest composition is the Concerto for horn 
                    and orchestra, composed in 1993 but based on material 
                    from an even earlier sonata. The first movement opens with 
                    a theme that is very similar to Shostakovich’s famous ‘motto’. 
                    It returns throughout the movement, which is rather romantic. 
                    The beautiful Lento also has room for some virtuoso 
                    flute solos. However the movement is predominantly a melancholy 
                    soliloquy for the horn soloist. In the concluding Vivace 
                    the ‘motto’ from the opening is heard again. Sören Hermansson 
                    has long been a champion of the contemporary scene and has 
                    premiered numerous works. His playing here is as spotless 
                    as ever and with the composer conducting, as he also does 
                    in Reflections, the authenticity cannot be questioned.
                  
This varied and 
                    communicative disc should win Andersson many new friends. 
                    With its broad spectrum of styles and influences it should 
                    appeal to listeners from various cultures. The technical standard 
                    is admirable.
                  
Göran Forsling
                  
And Rob Barnett 
                    writes:
                  
B. Tommy Andersson's 
                    name will be well known to Scandinavian music enthusiasts 
                    as an repertoire-intrepid conductor. For example, he directs 
                    the orchestra for the Bis recording of Nystroem's last two 
                    symphonies and also the Sterling disc of Atterberg’s concertos 
                    for piano and for violin. Here he is also revealed as a composer. 
                  
                  
Reflections 
                    is Andersson's 2003 Concerto for soprano saxophone and 
                    orchestra. The soloist Anders Paulsson plays only the soprano 
                    saxophone. The concerto is less romantic and more reserved 
                    than the Horn Concerto. We are told that it is based on the 
                    Dowland song My Thoughts are Wing'd with Hopes (1597). 
                    Despite a speckle of key clatter one can appreciate this mercurial 
                    and flighty work: Ariel at play in light and shadow - an elfin 
                    supernatural.
                  
Pieces for 
                    Pontus are for Magnus Svensson's solo piano and are dedicated 
                    to Pontus Lindberg on his 30th birthday. Secret Theatre 
                    is a jerky volley of notes while Ganymede is marked 
                    out by its starry slow-descending note pattern like Urmis 
                    Sisask. The music is extracted from Andersson's opera William 
                    based on the life of William Shakespeare.
                  
I Would Drink 
                    Your Kisses is a choral piece on words from the Song 
                    of Solomon and redolent of the original locale in the 
                    use of Arabian scales. It is not at all avant-garde, just 
                    rich and strange. Speaking of Shakespeare again we come to 
                    his Sonnet XVIII, Shall I compare thee which is also 
                    for mixed choir. Over a sweetly-hummed murmur this is almost 
                    Bantock-luxuriant and certainly sentimental. Very Edwardian.
                  
The surgingly 
                    romantic Horn Concerto began life as the 1985 Horn Sonata. 
                    It was largely rewritten as a Concerto in 1993. It's a stirring 
                    and turbulent work with no small insurgency of truculence. 
                    The pregnant rainy tension of the Lento is carried 
                    over into the Vivace which is bluffly Falstaffian, 
                    furiously full of barbed euphoric character and rousingly 
                    confident.
                  
              
The supportive notes 
                are by Magnus Hagland with a substantial note by the composer 
                in relation to Satyricon. Speaking of which, Andersson's 
                conjuring of the atmosphere rather than the incidents of the Petronius 
                novel is phantasmally done. The score is delicate and luxurious 
                with super-rich harmonic tissue comparable at one moment with 
                Ravel's Daphnis at another with Bax's Springfire and 
                then again with the most densely sybaritic Szymanowski. This almost 
                expressionistic forest strikes an accommodation with dissonance. 
                At 5.33 there is an irruption of magnificent Barber-like melody. 
                ‘Choreographic poem’ so we must not surprised by the possessed 
                dance at 6.30 or the riptide rhythmic ‘stings’ at 8:40 which keep 
                things moving. In the clinkery of anvil and the eruptive wildness 
                this music recalls Barber's Medea's Dance of Vengeance. 
                Ripping rhythmic brass figures and howling deep brass cut through 
                the textures. There is then a long melting falling away with a 
                profusion of solo lines which begin to be disrupted by rhythmic 
                explosions from 15:00 onwards. These blast and pulsate while rolling 
                brass fanfares rip and rap. Diaghilev would have loved this: Dukas’s 
                La Péri on steroids.
                
                Rob Barnett