According to annotator Øyvin Dybsand, Halvorsen regarded his Suite ancienne (1911), subtitled “to the memory of Ludvig Holberg”, as one of his finest compositions, an opinion that tells us more about the composer than a whole chapter of biography. While undeniably a fine work, the Suite is a tapestry of 18th-century pastiches derived from incidental music for Holberg’s play The Lying-In Room, with nods towards Grieg’s Holberg Suite and neo-classicism. The broad structure is of a Baroque suite or serenade, with a large variation movement (preceded by a vigorous Intrata) succeeded by a set of dances. But a symphony it is not and delightful as the music is, the expressive range is limited.

The quirky and lively Norwegian Dances for violin (written and orchestrated variously between 1896 and 1931) are the nearest we can get to Halvorsen’s well received Violin Concerto, which the composer destroyed in a bout of near-Sibelian self-criticism. Marianne Thorsen catches their moods very nicely (the central Allegretto is built on a version of “La folia”); and delightfully though she plays the smaller Air and Chant (1899), there is no disguising that they are essentially trifles.

The Second Symphony (1924) on the other hand is anything but, a serious-minded and perfectly balanced symphony in four movements running for almost half an hour. The Fatum sobriquet was the composer’s own, and the first movement’s dramatic character may have been suggested by Mahler’s Sixth. The remaining spans do not attempt the same level of gravity (at least in outward expression) but do not be fooled by the apparent levity – this is an integrated work, given here in Jørn Fossheim’s new critical edition. The performances throughout are top-notch and Chandos’s sound is of demonstration quality.