IMANTS KALNIŅŠ (b.1941): Symphonies Nos. 1-7, Cello Concerto, Oboe Concerto, Concerto for Orchestra, Santa Cruz, Finale from the Soundtrack for the Film Pūt vējiņi.

Description: The complete symphonic and concerto output of a truly unique figure in Latvian music. Kalniņš was a prodigiously gifted musician from the very beginning, and no respecter of boundaries; perhaps his most unique talent is that whatever style of music he wrote the result was invariably of the highest quality within that particular genre, and as for his ability to write instantly memorable, thoroughly approachable, always tonal, works that combine seriousness of intent with immediate appeal, many composers might well wish to have scored the kind of greatest hits that Kalniņš came up with time after time just once or twice in a career. He was a highly successful rock musician in the 1960s, proving his credentials by getting into trouble with the authorities; his "serious" music studies led him to embrace symphonic writing around the same time - the 1964 1st Symphony was his graduation piece, though you would never guess it from its powerful, dynamic drama, played out on a large scale. This four-movement work, the three-movement 2nd that followed almost immediately, and the Concerto for Orchestra are heavily influenced by the unavoidable éminence grise of Shostakovich, like most music in the Soviet states at the time, but also by Prokofiev and Honegger; and Kalniņš developed his own distinctive style very quickly while absorbing these models. No.3, in five short, linked movements, finds the composer experimenting with form - the layout of the movements is symmetrical; the idiom is similar to the previous works, with the sardonic edge that became more prominent in the Concerto, and a new emphasis on transparency of orchestration, however weighty the textures, and gorgeous melody, hinting at Latvian folk music (more of this later). By now, Kalniņš no longer "sounds like" anybody else. That statement comes explosively to life in the notorious 4th, the so-called Rock Symphony. Here the composer’s two worlds collide, spectacularly. To begin with, it could just about be Prokofiev in sarcastic "circus" mode, but within minutes it all goes terribly, wonderfully wrong, when the drum kit and electric bass take over the proceedings. Kalniņš was no stranger to propulsive ostinati prior to this point, but this raucously strutting groove, raising a defiant Latvian middle finger to the Soviet authorities with the kind of iconoclastic aggression that rock music was born for, is something new. The theme is apparently that of Kalniņš’ rock ballad "Seven Sorrowful Stars", but the presentation is an unequivocal send-up of Ravel's Bolero. The next two movements are comparatively "straight"; a relaxed, insouciant scherzo, and a thunderously intense movement that sounds like a warlike episode from a film score. An impressive, surging introduction prefaces the finale, which originally set eleven short love poems by American poet Kelly Cherry in popular style, with bombastic interjections, but had to be rewritten as an instrumental movement in order for there to be any hope of a performance. After this watershed work the composer returned to more standard symphonic writing in the 5th, an exhilarating, passionate first movement with a dark central episode; a splendid set of variations, beguiling, harmonically gorgeous, warm and generous in expression; a festive scherzo, initially bucolic and fugal; subsequently resembling a Bruckner scherzo in Khachaturianic Technicolor. After a climax the music takes on a more pensive mood, in preparation for the radiant finale, which triumphantly quotes a Latvian folksong. In the 1980s Kalniņš became involved in the struggle for Latvian independence; he took part in the "singing revolution" and subsequently became a leading politician in the parliament of free Latvia in the 1990s and 2000s. The huge, hour-long 6th Symphony of 2001 is clearly a triumphant celebration of Latvian freedom, with exultant declarations of patriotic and folk themes against buoyantly ascending accompaniments and an optimistic, striding ostinato rhythm in its first movement. It joins Finlandia and Ture Rangström's symphony "My Country" in the ranks of exuberant celebrations of national pride. The third movement overflows with sumptuous bonhomie, suggesting film music for a ballroom scene and high-spirited public celebrations from a patriotic historical epic. The second movement sets love poems by Tagore (but still sounding very Latvian!) in an exquisite hushed interlude, while the large finale begins with an a cappella prayer which alternates with orchestral episodes of Sibelian nobility, luminosity, and surging magnificence, bringing the symphony to a fittingly ecstatic conclusion. The 2015 7th sees a return of sorts to the pure symphonic argument of the early symphonies, now sounding like a grand retrospective view across the vistas of a hugely productive life well lived. The four vivid, bold, traditionally laid out movements could be heard as glimpses of scenes of memorable places, events, and personages; the pangs and joys of love (something the much-married composer may be presumed to know a good deal about); the adventure and conflicts of the man of action, facing down apparently insuperable odds; and a final valedictory triumph, with its moments of introspection punctuating a striding ostinato-driven triumphal march, simultaneously genuinely grand and knowingly grandiose. Astonishingly, the powerful 1963 Cello Concerto, full of lamentation and protest, was Kalniņš' first symphonic work. Heavily indebted to Shostakovich as it may be, it is still a fully accomplished work that sounds an impassioned commentary on the plight of oppressed Latvia. By complete contrast, the bright, optimistic Oboe Concerto of 2012 sounds like an affirmation of good work accomplished and hope for the future, in three movements of delicious melodic exuberance and rhythmic vivacity. 5 CDs. Marta Sudraba (cello). Pēteris Endzelis (oboe), State Choir “Latvija”, Liepāja Symphony Orchestra; Atvars Lakstīgala, Māris Sirmais (conductors). Recorded 2014-2020.