Mellnäs was a native of Stockholm who studied 
                there with Erland von Koch, Lars-Erik Larsson and Karl-Birger 
                Blomdahl. He later extended this foundation with Boris Blacher, 
                Max Deutsch and György Ligeti. His work-list abounds in work titles 
                that are not ‘symphony’, ‘concerto’ or ‘sonata’. Typical are the 
                orchestral works: 
Chiasmos (1961), 
Aura (1964) and 
                
Capriccio (1978). There are concertos including ones for 
                clarinet (1957) and 
Intimate Games which is a flute concerto 
                (1992). He had a fling with electro-acoustics in the 1960s and 
                a small clutch of these works numbers: 
Intensity 6.5, Edgar 
                Varèse in memoriam (1966), 
Eufoni (1969), 
Monotrem 
                (1969) and 
Far Out (Portrait of Laura Nyro) (1970). 
                There are four operas: 
Erik den helige, a church opera, 
                
Spöket på Canterville (The Canterville Ghost) (1980), 
Dans 
                på rosor (1984) and 
Doktor Glas (1990). His works have 
                appeared on CDs from Finlandia, Caprice, Bis, Phono-Suecia and 
                Swedish Society Discofil. All-Mellnäs discs have been thin on 
                the ground.  
Passages for orchestra is an angry or at very least tightly coiled dissonant piece – just what you may expect from a delegate at Darmstadt summer schools. Contrast comes from a proclivity for the sort of slippery ululation typical of 1960s Penderecki and his 
Hiroshima Threnody. No trace of the new melodics here. 
Labyrinthos is from a decade later. It was written for the saxophonist heard here. Those angry expostulations beat out and break in with interdictive fire of William Schuman. They stand alongside mercurial, cantabile from the soloist. Even so the sax writing is not terribly relaxed. The 
Vivace finale is irate and flares with volatility. 
Ikaros is the oldest piece here. It too sports those oily sliding string figurations whether as part of an active sound-quilt or as rhetorical devices. There’s no doubting the 1970s style modernity of this music and its groaning and pained embrace with angst. The recording by Latvian Radio is diaphanously clear and packs a punch as indeed do all the inscriptions here. 
 
The notes are in Swedish with fluent English translation. 
 
                
Rob Barnett