Western listeners who are aware of Japanese music mainly through the subtle calligraphies of Toru Takemitsu will be intrigued by this sample of what is popular with Japanese audiences. With the partial exception of Takashi Yoshimatsu’s threnody for an endangered species of bird‚ a symbol to the composer of nature’s destruction by technology‚ there is nothing here that sounds even faintly like Takemitsu‚ but nearly all of it sounds intensely Japanese. Most of these pieces are based either on genuine Japanese folk melodies or imitations of them; several use Western instruments to imitate the sound of Gagaku or Kabuki ensembles‚ others prominently feature genuine Japanese percussion instruments. The melodies proceed mostly in four­bar phrases‚ with much repetition or near­repetition‚ and most are in 2/4 or 4/4 metre‚ often accentuated by a heavily pounding beat. Naturally‚ therefore‚ to expand these melodies to ‘symphonic’ proportions (the average length of movements in this collection is about eight minutes) there is much use of simple variation‚ the addition of no less simple counter­melodies and‚ above all‚ of colourful scoring. Several pieces provide variety with ABA or rondo­like structures‚ but the Japanese taste for what Percy Grainger called ‘keeping­on­ness’ seems to be strong; there is a risk that despite their appealing exoticism and bright colour Western listeners may find them monotonous. And noisy: many of them reach very loud climaxes indeed. A lot of this music sounds like what a Western film composer might write if asked to evoke Japan: gongs and wooden blocks abound‚ as do tunes with a close resemblance to the allegedly authentic one in Sullivan’s The Mikado. Etenraku‚ a transcription for orchestra of Gagaku or imperial court music‚ was once frequently programmed by Leopold Stokowski. A jury consisting of Roussel‚ Honegger‚ Ibert and others awarded Akira Ifukube’s Japanese Rhapsody a prize. Yasushi Akutagawa’s Music for Symphony Orchestra‚ which seasons orientalism with syncopation and touches of Prokofiev and Khachaturian‚ was popular for a while in America. There are hints of Copland and of Hollywood to Kiyoshige Koyama’s Kobiki­Uta; its folk melody has a longer span than most here. For those interested in more than brilliant‚ at times raucous exotica‚ Yoshimatsu’s piece‚ which does not use folk song‚ will be more satisfying: at its heart is a broken‚ tender piano solo‚ and it makes poetic and expressive use of string clusters‚ harmonics and glissandos. The orchestra is an excellent one‚ with much characterful solo playing‚ and the recording does it full justice.