Contrasts and A Soldier's Tale at Kings Place Festival

Kings Place has now been open for four years, so this was the fifth festival in which 100+ concerts take place over a long weekend. It is an imaginative, ambitious idea, but one that rewards creative programming, for each concert offers 45 minutes of repertoire – but often the artists extend these to take in two or three recitals.

On the Friday afternoon The London Sinfonietta used these possibilities to the maximum with an intelligent link between two concerts of short and lively works for solo instrument, ending each with a masterpiece for clarinet, violin and piano – not the primary combination of 20th century chamber music but one which proved highly effective.

It helps to have artists of the calibre of clarinettist Mark van de Wiel, violinist Jonathan Morton – newly announced as the Sinfonietta's principal violin – and pianist John Constable, an ever-present on the ensemble’s roll call since they were formed in 1968. Each performer had a hand in the introduction of the pieces they were about to play, which helped immensely with works not often heard. We learned that the first of Simon Holt's Brief Candles, for solo clarinet, was written for his bank manager – but not played. Van de Wiel's command of the clarinet here was total, and the third piece – art project – took the instrument to the borders of inaudibility, the sound literally coming in from nothing but maintaining an incredibly quiet dynamic throughout.

Constable joined the action for a spiky performance of Lutoslawski's Dance Preludes, which served both to highlight the composer’s melodic craft but also to whet the appetite for his forthcoming centenary year. Morton was then added for Bartók's Contrasts, where the three performers kept an impressively high level of tension through the slow movement, seemingly suspended in space, but also in the more raucous ensemble passages. This was music of grit and determination, but also with a jazzy swing, the wishes of clarinettist Benny Goodman taken in to account and freely expressed here by van de Wiel.

The second concert began with the clarinet once more, though this was one of the first compositions for the instrument alone, Stravinsky's 3 Pieces. Students of the instrument know that these are something of a Mount Everest, but van de Wiel's technique was beyond reproach, his tonal quality exquisite in the quieter parts of the first piece, but with an impressive penetration in the third.

Morton then gave us the strangely moving Secret Psalm of Oliver Knussen, the piece dedicated to the memory of the London Sinfonietta's former artistic director, Michael Vyner. The secret is held in the piece's frequent references to and quotations from one of Vyner’s favourite violin concertos, but Knussen somehow disguises these lingering glances, with none of them obvious. My guess was that the concerto was by Sibelius, but the privacy of the dedication and the musical workings was reflected in the intimate nature of the piece, the legato notes in particular beautifully played by Morton.

There was little room for lyricism in the closing piece, the suite from Stravinsky's musical theatre piece The Soldier's Tale. The acoustics of Hall 2 at Kings Place came in to their own here, the dry sound ideal for the scratchy sound of the double stopped violin used almost entirely for rhythmic purposes. That, combined with the punchy clarinet and often caustic piano chords, made for a performance of grit and determination, though the dance of the devil at the end, celebrating his duping of a soldier in to selling his soul, still managed to have a smile on its face.

Top class performances all – and an auspicious start to a festival that is starting to establish itself firmly in the concert calendar. It deserves its place, for there is nothing else like it in the musical year – and to be able to say it was well worth taking a half day from work for it tells you all you need to know!

September Symphonies Week One - The Bach sons to Haydn and Mozart

So the first week of September Symphonies is complete, and I have so far listened to 16 relatively early examples in the form, travelling from the work of Boyce and C.P.E.Bach to Haydn's final output in 1794. What has really come through so far is the largely positive nature of emotions shown in the writing, though in Haydn's case in particular these have been allowed to darken considerably.

What has really been impressed on me so far is the upbeat nature of the fast movements, of J.C.Bach, Stamitz and Dittersdorf in particular, which have been very energetic. Brief though they are, the pieces are concentrated and full of melodic invention. At this stage they follow convention relatively closely, though are not afraid in the case of Arne and Boyce's minor key works to throw in some scrunchy harmonies now and then.

Where Haydn is concerned, I could easily have selected any one of about 30 symphonies to listen to for September Symphonies – and even then that is bearing in mind that I still don’t know around half of his symphonic output. With such a large canon it helps to have nicknames, though it is worth pointing out that some of the very best have no nicknames at all. One of my favourites, Symphony no.87 in A, is packed full of the customary Haydn wit, as were two of my selections for the project, the 'Oxford' and 'Clock' symphonies.

There are much darker moments in Haydn though, and it seems many of the symphonies have subtle inventions that had not been tried before – drums in the slow movement, virtuosic writing for horns, sudden deviations or harmony or key. The 'Sturm und Drang' period is rightly celebrated for its fiery emotions and occasional leave-taking of tradition, so with that in mind I listened to the 44th symphony, 'Trauer', for the first time in years. A 'big band' performance conducted by Ferenc Fricsay, it was emotive and yet kept a kind of serenity, an observation that could be levelled at other high points in the output such as no.49, 'La Passione'.

Mozart I find harder to warm to as instinctively as Haydn, yet there is no doubting the near perfection of the architecture of his last three symphonies. No.39 is my personal favourite, though it was interesting to discover H.C. Robbins Landon's suggestion, made in Robert Layton's A Guide To The Symphony - one of my companion books for this series – that it was set as a 'masonic' work. Whatever, it is a wonderfully affirmative piece – as is the 41st, whose 'Jupiter' nickname is curiously earned and relates to nothing in particular. The finale of the 'Jupiter' is one of the high points of 18th century symphonic writing, a perfect fusion of form, melody, harmony and counterpoint – with Mozart introducing the same melodic subject over and over again in a wide variety of ways and means. In the performance I listened to, with Claudio Abbado conducting the Mozart Orchestra, perfection was indeed attained.

Another big personal plus of the first week of symphonies has been that they are all easy to work to, rewarding both background and foreground listening. As I journey further in to the 19th century I know this will not always be the case, so expect some wringing of hands by the time I reach week three! For now, though, an air of relative serenity persists – and next it's Beethoven!

Symphonies and recordings listened to so far:

1. Boyce - Symphony no.8 (1737) English Concert / Trevor Pinnock (DG Archiv)

2. Monn - Symphony in B flat major (c1740) Camerata Bern / Thomas Furi (DG Archiv)

3. C.P.E.Bach - Symphony in G major Wq 173 (1741) Les Amis de Philippe / Ludger Remy (CPO)

4. Haydn - Symphony no.6 in D major (Le Matin) (1761) English Concert / Trevor Pinnock (DG Archiv)

5. J.C.Bach - Symphony in D major Op.3/1 (1765) Academy of St Martin-in-the-Fields / Sir Neville Marriner (Philips)

6. Arne - Symphony no.4 in C minor (1767) The Hanover Band / Graham Lea-Cox (Gaudeamus)

7. Haydn - Symphony no.44 in E minor (Trauer) (1772) RIAS Symphony Orchestra Berlin / Ferenc Fricsay (DG)

8. Mozart - Symphony no.29 in A major K201 (1774) Orchestra of the 18th Century / Frans Bruggen (Philips)

9. Dittersdorf - Sinfonia in A minor (c1775) Camerata Bern / Thomas Furi (DG Archiv)

10. Stamitz - Symphony in F major Op.24/3 (1784) London Mozart Players / Matthias Bamert (Chandos)

11. Haydn - Symphony no.85 in B flat major (La Reine) (1785) Concentus Musicus Wien / Nikolaus Harnoncourt (Deutsche Harmonia Mundi)

12. Mozart - Symphony no.39 in E flat major K543 (1788) Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra / Karl Bohm (DG)

13. Mozart - Symphony no.40 in G minor K550 (1788) Academy of St Martin-in-the-Fields / Sir Neville Marriner (Philips)

14. Mozart - Symphony no.41 in C major K551 (Jupiter) (1788) Mozart Orchestra / Claudio Abbado (DG)

15. Haydn - Symphony no.92 in G major (Oxford) (1789) Orchestra of the 18th Century / Frans Bruggen (Philips)

16. Haydn - Symphony no.101 in D major (Clock) (1794) Chamber Orchestra of Europe / Claudio Abbado (DG)

An introduction to September Symphonies

So, why September Symphonies?

Well if you follow me on Twitter or read this blog you might remember an equivalent month-long project called April Albums, whose aim was to cover one hundred new albums in a month. This new idea is directly inspired by that but is also an attempt to trace the evolution and development of the symphony in the course of one hundred works, from its beginnings in Central Europe in the 18th century through its all-encompassing emotional sweep in the 20th century, to an examination of where it stands now as a musical form. For how long will it remain the principal mode of expression in orchestral music?

But has it stopped being that already? Did some composers write symphonies because they felt they had to? It is after all interesting to note that some of the greatest composers in classical music made only minor contributions to the symphony's canon at best. Wagner wrote just one, Verdi none at all, Debussy a student effort, and we had nothing at all from Ravel, Bartók, Schoenberg or Gershwin.

My listening odyssey will take me chronologically from the sons of Bach and their contemporaries through a complete cycle of the greatest symphonist of them all, Beethoven, to those for whom the form meant everything and gave their whole means of musical expression – Bruckner and Mahler among them. Then onwards, to the present day.

Some works will be new to me, others ultra familiar, but one thing is for sure – this will be an intriguing and enlightening journey through one of classical music's flagship forms. I hope you find it an interesting one!

In from the cold: Howells and the Hymnus Paradisi

It is remarkable to think that a work of the stature of Herbert Howells' Hymnus Paradisi, described in the Proms programme notes as having 'raised the perception of him as a major voice in British music', should only receive its Proms premiere in the 2012 season. The oversight does not reflect particularly well on previous directors, but its restoration, in a similar vein to last year's Gothic Symphony of Havergal Brian, adds a feather in the cap of current Proms director Roger Wright. Not only that, it uncannily reflects the work's performance history.

So personal was the work to the composer that it did not see the light of day from the year of completion, 1938, until 1950, when Vaughan Williams insisted it should be performed at the Three Choirs Festival in Gloucester Cathedral. The reason for this delay, apart from Howells' reluctance to see his work performed in any sphere for fear of negative criticism, was its standing as a memorial to his son Michael, who tragically died of polio aged nine. The composer's words, recorded in Christopher Palmer's short biography, put the work in perspective. "The sudden loss in 1935 of an only son, a loss essentially profound, and, in its very nature, beyond argument, might naturally impel a composer, after a time, to seek release and consolation in language and terms most personal to him. Music may well have power beyond any other medium to offer that release and comfort. It did so in my case, and became a personal, private document."

With this in mind the performance, coming as it did after a number of tragic infant deaths in the UK recently, felt incredibly close to home. It helped, too, that the combined forces of the BBC Symphony Chorus and the London Philharmonic Choir – about 230 singers in all – were incredibly well drilled in their performance, marshalled by British music specialist Martyn Brabbins, who also conducted the Gothic last year.

The text is a hybrid of the composer's choosing, using parts of the Requiem at start and finish but including psalms and poems that take light as their central theme. The impact was clearly heard and felt, for the composer's response is extremely personal and emotionally direct. Howells uses modal harmonies in a way that reminds the listener of Vaughan Williams and Ravel, but which remains individual and subtly inventive.

Complementing this is his orchestration. Howells uses the organ but at no point does it dominate, instead supporting the overall sound, often underpinning with wonderfully sonorous bass note foundations. The last of these notes, with which the piece ends, is a low 'E flat', which in this performance had the effect of blowing a calming breeze across the auditorium. Before this the music seemed to be floating above the ground, thanks to the composer's skilful manipulation of his vocal lines, and while we could not fully hear the soloists, Miah Persson and Andrew Kennedy having to battle against the huge choral forces in an unhelpful acoustic, the effect of this writing was still pertinent.

The biggest compliment that can be paid to Howells is that the audience fell silent for a full 30 seconds when the music had finished – proof that the music and its keenly felt emotion had made an incredibly powerful impact. With that in mind it is surely time to reappraise the composer's output and program his music – orchestral, chamber, vocal or otherwise – more frequently.

After the interval Brabbins conducted an enthusiastic performance of Elgar's Symphony no.1, an interpretation that kept a firm hand on the tiller and left little room for sentiment. This gave a fresh dimension to the stately theme, which was light on its feet, though meant some of the more stormy arguments in the faster music were a little rushed at times. That said the symphony – first performed at the Proms 104 years before Hymnus Paradisi - proved an ideal complement to the Howells, while reminding us what a wonderful piece it is in its own right. Howells – who met Elgar a number of times before finally making an impact on the older composer – would surely have approved of the dual programming, with his emotional outpouring finally thrown into a spotlight it should have been occupying for many a year.

New Czech delights from Harmonia Mundi

Every so often a new recording comes along that hits a gap in your music knowledge of a composer or country so completely that it forces a reappraisal. Harmonia Mundi are particularly good at exploiting these opportunities, and in two very persuasive new discs of Czech vocal repertoire, they reveal the inner workings of two of the country’s flagship composers, Dvořák and Janáček. Both releases are handsomely designed, as you will see from the accompanying pictures, with beautiful artwork that accurately reflects the music on offer. Full text and background information only adds to the enjoyment. So what of the music itself?

The Dvořák first, given by the clear, ringing soprano of Genia Kühmeier and the slightly huskier mezzo of Bernarda Fink. There is an attractive edge to Kühmeier's sound in the Gypsy Melodies, settings of the poet Alfred Heyduk which are folksy round the edges, as might be expected, wearing their emotion close to the surface. The piano parts are scrunchy, with a nice tone in staccato from Christoph Berner. 'Kdyz mne stará matka' ('Songs My Mother Taught Me') has the most obviously appealing melody, which has given it a more exalted status in Dvořák's output, but in truth there are memorable tunes throughout.

The Moravian Duets are beautifully done here. Like the Gypsy Melodies they are earthy, and quite jaunty in places, but because of the slight difference in tone between the two singers they get just the right projection. The outdoorsy feel is helped by Harmonia Mundi's natural recording, and the three performers get a natural rise and fall to the music.

The Biblical Songs are later in Dvořák's output, and are more serious and thoughtful, as might reflect a later work. 'Skrýse má a paveza má Ty jsi' ('Thou art my defence and shield') is profound, 'Slys, ó Boze! Slys modlitbu mou' ('Hear my prayer, O God') more stern and questioning, while the more familiar 'Boze! Boze! Písen novou zpívati budu' ('Lord! Lord! I will sing a new song') and 'Zpívejte Hospodinu písen novou' ('O sing unto the Lord a new song') are really well done. These are fresh, insightful readings from Fink and Berner, and moving, too – and there is a slight husk to the tone that often brings a tear to the eye.

Listening to the Janáček straight after the Dvořák is a tactic that works really well, because this disc – now with choral forces – picks up with arrangements for voices of six of the same Moravian Duets. These are faithful reproductions, performed with the same natural enthusiasm and impressive empathy for the text from the Cappella Amsterdam, well schooled by Daniel Reuss.

Janáček often gives his music evocative titles that make you want to listen immediately, and that is the case here with the hunting songs The Wild Duck and The Wolf's Tail. His vocal writing, as with much of his music overall, is more stretched out, with greater emphasis on treble and bass but with less going on in between. This pulls at the tension and gives a greater air of foreboding, but there is a harsh and very expressive beauty too.

Especially striking is the composer's use of the harmonium for 'Our Evenings', bringing some voluminous colour to an already vividly shaded disc. Our Father, meanwhile, shows that the composer's grasp of religious music had an essentially secular side to it, as it did in the Glagolitic Mass. Here some of the more sacred writing is self conscious, but continues to be deeply emotional.

The Nursery Rhymes are especially descriptive and vivid, being essentially more modern counterparts of Dvořák's Gipsy Songs. 'The beetroot got married' is brightly coloured and crisply delivered, while there is a nice, clear tenor solo in 'There’s nothing better than springtime', both in Janáček's favourite tonal centre of A flat. Both these discs are collections that will surprise and delight those who think they already know the composers well. Beautifully sung and played, they are a credit to their performers, and one can only hope Harmonia Mundi extends their explorations to composers such as Smetana, Suk and Martinů. As it is they already have here two thoroughly invigorating exposés of Czech vocal music, and its many hidden gems.

April albums

If you follow me on Twitter (@benjammin22) you'll have noticed me chart a course through 100 albums in the course of April, and this blog aims to reveal the results and discoveries of the quest, which has proved rewarding and sometimes insightful. The idea for it came from a musicOMH writer Gareth Ware (whose own odyssey can be tracked at @musicismyradar) and from John Murphy (@john_murphy1) who personalized the exercise by listening to 100 albums that he either loved or which had pertinent lifelong memories.

Albums are like that, I suppose, and if they're good or meaningful have the potential to conjure up whole lifetimes in one listen. They act as vivid reminders like any good photo album, only with extra – for often the emotional link between the music and the life event is impossible to ignore. Either that or a good album acts as that alone, a marker of quality in an art form overrun with attempts to achieve legendary status in the form.

For my own quest through 100 April albums I decided that each should be new to me, and that each artist or composer could only be represented once in the exercise. I chose them pretty much as the mood took me, and didn’t include compilations or albums I heard that had already passed my ears before. It was a chance to catch up with some of 2012’s new releases, to try out completely new things on the strength of cover or reviews alone, or to take a lucky dip in to the CD collection and haul out something I'd not listened to before. And there are far too many of those examples!

The other rule was the once started, the album had to be completed there and then, and this wasn’t always as easy as it sounded. Sometimes when an ambient album was selected late at night it was easy, but when busy techno threatened to take over my head on a flight to Budapest (thanks to u-ziq), some flurries of instrumentation nearly compromised our neighbour relations (Au) or some particularly dark and vigorous vocal beat boxing marred my preparation for a suited and booted dinner one Saturday night, the exercise became one of endurance not enjoyment.

It showed me too that there are times – even in London – where silence, the music that has no sound or pitch, is underrated and even totally necessary. It reminded me of the need to actually step away from music now and again – which I will do when on holiday next week – so that the reacquaintance is fresh and involving once again.

So, enough of the personal aspects – what and who were the winners in the hundred? A difficult one to summarise, but there have been some wonderful moments which I will try and capture. The first was Lovelock's 'Burning Feeling', the massive and anthemic first track from his first album of the same name, booming through the headphones on my walk down the hill at 7am on a Monday morning. I had expected something far more chilled, but arrived at the bus stop with a smile on my face.

Secondly, in the middle of a busy office, the sleights of electronic instrumentation forming Pole's '1' – beautifully crafted techno that proved very easy to work to. Then the thrill of Van Halen rediscovering what made them so good in the 1970s, returning to their original sound and singer, closely followed by Whitesnake achieving something equally thrilling.

Classical music was embraced by April Albums too, and took up its familiar position in my life either at each end of the day or when seeking something to keep me alert at work. For some reason Czech music played a big part in the month, perhaps for the spring like qualities of the Novak, Dvorak, Janacek and Stamitz that I ended up listening to.

There were some forgettable albums too, but those tended to be the ones that were OK but didn't inspire a reaction. I’m afraid these included the new Best Coast album, We Have Band, Ellen and the Escapades and Neil Finn. But the beauty of this is that not all albums make their mark on first listen, and my favourite of all – Super Furry Animals' Guerrilla – was a grower that I didn't like to begin with. That experience has told me never to write off a long player on first listen, so I haven't dismissed those offerings yet.

April albums - the full list

The April albums list in full:

1. Lightships - Electric Cables
2. Lovelock - Burning Feeling (Internasjonal)
3. A Tribute to Erling Blondal Bengtsson (Danacord)
4. Popular Computer - Lite
5. Krazy Baldhead - The Noise In The Sky (Ed Banger)
6. Brian Eno - Discreet Music
7. Kasper Bjorke - Fool (hfn)
8. Simian Ghost - Youth
9. Gotye - Making Mirrors
10. Moby - Animal Rights (Mute)
11. Stamitz - Symphonies conducted by Matthias Bamert (Chandos)
12. Stravinsky - Miniature Masterpieces (Sony)
13. Diefenbach - Run Trip Fall ()
14. Neil Finn - One Nil
15. Yeti Boombox - Maplewood
16. Mendelssohn - Concerto for violin & piano played by Kremer, Argerich & Orpheus CO (DG)
17. Talking Heads - Little Creatures
18. Weber: Overtures conducted by Neeme Jarvi (Chandos)
19. Schubert: Piano Sonatas D845 & D894 played by Radu Lupu (Decca)
20. Villa-Lobos: Choros 1, 4, 6, 8 & 9 (BIS)
21. Mojave 3: Out Of Time (4AD)
22. Manuel Tur: Swans Reflecting Elephants (Freerange)
23. The Draymin: Should've Known Better
24. Pole: 1
25. Blockhead: Interludes At Midnight (Ninja Tune)
26. Ry Cooder: Pull Up Some Dust And Sit Down (Nonesuch)
27. Battles: Dross Glop (Warp)
28. Fila Brazillia: Black Market Gardening ()
29. Killing Joke: Absolute Dissent
30. Au: Verbs
31. Julianna Barwick: Sanguine
32. Britten, Bach & Ligeti: Works for solo cello - Miklos Perenyi (ECM)
33. Van Halen: A Different Kind Of Truth
34. Whitesnake: Forevermore
35. Takemitsu: Complete Piano Works - Roger Woodward
36. Chopin: Waltzes - Zoltan Kocsis (Philips)
37. Ellen and the Escapades: All The Crooked Scenes
38. John Daly: Sunburst (Drumpoet Community)
39. Claro Intelecto: Reform Club
40. Barber, Nielsen & Hindemith: Chamber Works - Marlboro Festival Players (Sony)
41. Dave Aju: Heirlooms
42. Bill Ryder-Jones: If...
43. She & Him: Volume One
44. We Have Band: Ternion
45. The Cocteau Twins: Treasure (4AD)
46. Etienne de Crecy: My Contribution To The Global Warming
47. Ryan Teague: Field Drawings
48. Breton: Other People's Problems
49. Hayden: Moving Careful ()
50. Ambarchi & Brinkmann - The Mortimer Trap
51. Faith No More - Angel Dust
52. µ-Ziq - Lunatic Harness
53. Schumann - Piano Works played by Ronald Brautigam (Olympia)
54. Fat Jon The Ample Soul Physician - Lightweight Heavy
55. Kelley Polar - Love Songs of the Hanging Gardens
56. Morgan Geist - The Driving Memoirs
57. Brahms - Violin Sonatas played by Anthony Marwood and Alexander Madzar (Wigmore Hall Live)
58. Schoenberg - Complete Piano Works played by Maurizio Pollini (DG)
59. Jay Haze - Love For A Strange World
60. Schulhoff - Chamber Works played by Prazak Quartet and friends (Praga)
61. Tippett - Songs with Martyn Hill, Andrew Ball and Craig Ogden (Hyperion)
62. Szymanowski - Symphonies 2 & 4, Concert Overture conducted by Witold Rowicki
63. Stacey Pullen - Today Was The Tomorrow We Were Promised Yesterday
64. TJ Kong & Modular K - Dream Cargoes
65. Orkney - Symphony of The Magnetic North (Full Time Hobby)
66. The Shins - Port Of Morrow
67. Berg - Chamber Concerto, Clarinet Pieces & Clarinet Sonata - Boulez & Barenboim, Ensemble Intercontemporain (DG)
68. Schubert - Symphonies 8 & 9 - Berlin Philharmonic / Karl Bohm (DG)
69. Electric Guest - Mondo
70. Last Days of 1984 - Wake Up To The Waves
71. Dead Mellotron - Glitter (Sonic Cathedral)
72. Toro Y Moi - June 2009 (Car Park)
73. Tom Jones - Spirit In The Room (Island)
74. Dvorak - Zigeunerlieder - Songs & Duets with Genia Kuhmeier, Bernarda Fink and Christoph Berner (Harmonia Mundi)
75. Janacek - Choral Works inc Moravian Choruses - Cappella Amsterdam and Daniel Reuss (Harmonia Mundi)
76. Saint Etienne - Words And Music by Saint Etienne
77. Damon Albarn - Dr. Dee (EMI)
78. Jack White - Blunderbuss (4AD)
79. Slugabed - Time Team (Ninja Tune)
80. 2econd Class Citizen - The Small Minority
81. The Futureheads - Rant
82. Barber - Knoxville, Essays for Orchestra, Adagio with the Atlanta SO conducted by Yoel Levi (Telarc)
83. Best Coast - The Only Place
84. Enter Shikari - A Flash Flood Of Colour
85. Modern Jazz Quartet - Pyramid
86. Howells - Concerto for Strings, 3 Dances, Piano Concerto No.2 - Kathryn Stott, Malcolm Stewart, RLPO / Handley (Hyperion)
87. Danger In Paradise - General Strike
88. Pinch & Shackleton - Pinch & Shackleton (Honest Jons)
89. Beethoven - Bagatelles - Steven Osborne (Hyperion)
90. Purcell - Hail, Bright Cecilia! - Gabrieli Consort & Players / Paul McCreesh (Arkiv)
91. Joubert - String Quartets - Brodsky Quartet (Somm)
92. Nielsen - Symphonies 1 & 2 - Gothenburg SO / Neeme Jarvi (DG)
93. Rolf Hind - Country Dance (Factory)
94. Sidewinder - Resolution (Fenetik)
95. It Hugs Back - Laughing Party
96. Fennesz - Plus Forty Seven Degrees 56' 37 Minus Sixteen Degrees 51'08
97. Foulds - Indian Suite and other orchestral works - BBC Concert Orchestra / Ronald Corp (Dutton)
98. Ives - New England Holidays, Three Places In New England - Baltimore SO & Chorus / David Zinman (Argo)
99. Genesis - The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway
100. Shostakovich - Symphonies 9 & 15 - SWR Symphony Orchestra / Andrey Boreyko (Hanssler)