Like his geographical neighbour Per Nørgård, Anders Eliasson hit upon a harmonic formula early in his career that freed him to create music of high concentration from limited material, a trope in Scandinavian music if ever there was one. Again, that process of self discipline induced music that can be rampantly imaginative while remaining taut and discernible.

Without studying these works in detail, my ears tell me something of that formula is at play in three of the four single-movement works here. Notturno for bass clarinet, cello and piano frustrates and trolls its own sense of lyricism. ‘Something of the night’ comes, perhaps, as the bass clarinet insists on playing high up where its tone is more mellow than that of a standard clarinet, and also given the music’s inability to render the material clearly even if the musical process is impeccably clear.

That sense of lyricism is more unfettered in Senza risposte, perhaps a busy, urban vision of a woodland idyll for flute, violin, cello and piano. The extensive Fogliame for piano quartet is a wondrous piece: a river of music whose opening throbbing feels ever-present even when it’s not sounding (echoes of Sibelius’s Seventh) and with plenty of long-form counterpoint that tells you this composer means business.

There’s a different form of tonality at work in Trio, where it’s not just the vibraphone (added to violin and piano) that suggests an émigré from a northern jazz bar but also added notes and a certain blowy wistfulness. I am not so convinced, and despite the interlocking patterns that eventually emerge, the lack of organic process is disappointing after what we’ve already heard. That’s of little consequence given the ensnaring qualities elsewhere. Excellent performances from the new music ensemble of the Norrbotten Chamber Orchestra – musicians, notably the hypersensitive strings, who are listening deeply.