The discography for Alan Hovhaness, who died in June aged 89, now hearteningly takes up an entire page in the current catalogue. The pioneers in this regard are Crystal, whose issues include the well-known St Vartan and Eleventh (All Men Are Brothers) symphonies. Khaldis (1951) has a connection with St Vartan (1950) in their common use of a quartet of trumpets: the composer wanted a piece he could play with them and a percussionist alone. It is a striking work – named from the god of the universe of the pre-Armenian Urarduan people – full of volcanic, apocalyptic visions. The seven-movement structure has the feel of a set of studies rather than an integrated concerto, the brass tending to play en bloc and one movement scored as if for some primordial trio of giants.
The sonata Mount Katahdin (1986-87) does not sound almost a career later than Khaldis. The four movements resemble the sequence of a Bach orchestral suite, with the imposing opening ‘Solenne’, half as long again as the rest of the work, succeeded by three tiny movements, lighter in character and acting as foils for the first. The central ‘Jhala of Larch Trees’ is particularly lovely. Berkofsky plays with evident love and conviction, and these are persuasive performances, whether from 1972 (Khaldis, previously released on Poseidon – nla) or 1999 (Mount Katahdin). Most fascinating of all is Hovhaness’s own account of the Fantasy, written c 1936 and also once available on a Poseidon LP. A mesmeric performance of a mesmeric piece, the 10 sections or ‘steps’ built from Indian ragas utilise Cowellesque devices such as playing the strings inside the instrument with fingers, plectrum, marimba mallet or timpani stick. The sound overall is acceptable although the remastered Khaldis and Fantasy are a touch lacking in depth.'