Although Joonas Kokkonen seldom features in the concert-hall in this country he has maintained a strong profile on record since the 1960s—at least in his native Finland. Indeed, within a year of its appearance his Third Symphony enjoyed the dis- tinction of being recorded twice—once by the Stockholm Philharmonic and Herbert Blomstedt on Swedish EMI and again by Paavo Berglund and the Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra, whose 1968 recording reappears on the Finlandia disc under review here. At the time I formed a largely positive view of him as a composer, finding his music ''distinguished by genuine integrity''. And though his sound-world is less immediately identifiable than, say, Holmboe's, he reminds one of him in that he has followed his own star and resisted the temptation to take the temperature of the cultural scene and modify his style to meet it. There is a sense of nature in his music as well as a continuity of thought and well imagined texture. Although he does not possess a strong stylistic profile, he has a seriousness of intention and an accomplishment that reward attention (see Twentieth Century Composers III—Britain, Scandinavia and The Netherlands; Weidenfeld: 1972).
Well, looking back after two decades and more prolonged exposure to his compositions, I have to confess that his music has continued to inspire more respect than enthusiasm. Some of his work from the late 1950s and early 1960s, such as the First Quartet and the Sinfonia da camera, have a general-purpose neo-classical modernity plus a strong whiff of anonymity, while later pieces, such as the Requiem and the Cello Concerto, for all their moments of eloquence, betray an unpleasing air of sentimentality bordering on mawkishness.
FACD027: To take the Finlandia issue first: it couples the 1968 recording of the Third Symphony, Arto Noras's magnificent account of the Cello Concerto (1969) and his equally aristocratic reading of the Sonata (1976). The Concerto was recorded in the mid-1970s and the Sonata in 1983 in digital sound: both are eminently recommendable, although 56 minutes of reissue material at full price may strike some collectors as less than competitive, given the arrival of the fine new BIS recordings. There is precious little to choose between Noras and the young Swedish cellist, Torleif Thedeen on BIS in the Concerto: both play with flair and finesse and both were recorded in close collaboration with the composer, though Thedeen has the advantage of digital recording.
CD508: The new BIS version of the Third Symphony coupled with the Requiem and Opus sonorum offers much better value, and is quite superbly recorded and very well performed. What a good piece it is too; fastidiously crafted and finely proportioned, it's surely one of Kokkonen's most resourceful and impressive scores! Others may respond more warmly to the Requiem than I do. It has some imaginative, indeed I am tempted to say, inspired moments, but other ideas are cloying and come close to unctuousness. There are impressive performances from the two soloists—Soile Isokoski, familiar from the 1987 Cardiff Singer of the World competition, and the inestimable Walton Gronroos—the Savonlinna Opera Choir and Lahti orchestra under Ulf Soderblom.
The remaining piece, Opus sonorum (1965) was inspired, so Kokkonen tells us, by the intimidating array of percussion instruments, all too familiar at contemporary-music concerts in the 1960s. He decided to lay out his score assigning the role of the percussion to the piano, played here with great delicacy by Ilkka Sivonen. A short, rewarding and well-sustained work.
CD498: The Second Symphony is another good piece, well-crafted, often imaginative and with that sense of scale that marks out a composer who knows how to think symphonically. But the motivic substance is wanting in real character. I am reminded in some way of Peter Racine Fricker in England or Benjamin Lees in America: you admire the scenery during the journey but can't recall very much of it on arrival. When one hears The Last Temptations in the opera house, it is its sense of symphonic rather than dramatic pace that leaves the strongest impression, one which is enhanced by hearing the interludes on their own. Erekhtheion is what one might call an occasional work, a cantata written for an academic festivity in Turku (Abo). Although short, it has a certain dignity and elevation of feeling.
CD528: As was the case with the earlier Finlandia CD that DJF reviewed (3/92), ... durch einen Spiegel... (1976-7) is again coupled with the Sinfonia da camera. The former is one of Kokkonen's most imaginative scores, skilfully laid out for 12 strings and harpsichord, and full of inventive sonorities. DJF thought that by this time Kokkonen had ''absorbed some of the impact of Ligeti (whose Chamber Concerto appeared in 1970)''—and I would be tempted to add Frank Martin too. The title, which puzzled him, is explained in the BIS booklet. It alludes to the First Book of Corinthians verse 13, ''Jeetzt sehen wir durch einen Spiegel, in ratselhafter Gestalt'' (''For now we see in a mirror dimly''), and alludes to an experience from the composer's youth. This is a strong piece. DJF found the lithe, athletic lines of the Sinfonia da camera (1961-2) appealing, but thought ''the final impression is of a rather dry, experimental piece'', a view from which I would not greatly dissent. I have to say, however, that I was more persuaded by this performance than the earlier one. I liked the inventive Wind Quintet (1971-2), a work of stronger personality. It is very well played and vividly recorded as well.
The last piece on this disc is Il paesaggio (''Landscape'') for chamber orchestra, commissioned by the town of Jarvenpaa where Kokkonen has lived for many years. Indeed, Jarvenpaa has become something of a centre for composers; both Erik Bergman and Paavo Heininen live there and allusions to their music as well, of course, as to that of its greatest inhabitant, Sibelius, are worked into this atmospheric and impressive score. This is one of the most stimulating discs in the series.
CD458: Generally speaking Kokkonen has tended to turn away from a medium once he has finished a work and his quartets are spaced out over two decades; the Second appeared in the mid-1960s, just before the composition of the Third Symphony, and the Third followed a decade later in 1976. There have been earlier LP recordings of the Piano Quintet, Op. 5, written 1951-3, when the composer was in his early thirties and beginning to flex his creative muscles. The First Quartet followed in the late 1950s. These new performances are a good deal more persuasive than their predecessors, but I can't say I warm to either piece. The ideas of the Piano Quintet are pretty inconsequential and the First Quartet, though thoughtful and well argued, is rather wanting in personality. I can't imagine a newcomer to any of the quartets being able to discern a very strong voice here. Even if one has been steeped in this music, it is a case of recognizing some familiar fingerprints rather than responding to a powerful and unmistakable personality.
But then if you put almost any work by Kokkonen alongside such strong personalities as, say, Tubin, Holmboe or his contemporary Bentzon, there is a certain want of profile. True there is a powerful sense of logic and finely disciplined craftsmanship, though not as highly developed as Robert Simpson's; in his best works, such as the Third Symphony, there is a refined imagination though not, it seems to me, as well-stocked as Alun Hoddinott's. Ultimately I find Kokkonen's world a bit claustrophobic: others may (and indeed do) feel differently. They are certainly well served by these admirable recordings, and I would urge readers to sample ... durch einen Spiegel... and the Third Symphony, for they show this composer's powers at their distinguished best.'