Kullervo had to wait until 1958 for its performance in modern times when it was conducted by Sibelius's son-in-law, the late Jussi Jalas, and 1971 for its first recording under Paavo Berglund. Although this is now available only as part of a seven-record HMV set of the complete symphonies (SLS5129, 10/78), it is available singly on cassette (TCC2-POR54287, 10/85). He has now re-recorded it after a gap of 15 years. Sibelius was unusually sensitive about this score and prohibited further performances of it after its 1892 premiere. Of course, from the vantage point of even the First Symphony, let alone the Seventh, it is easy to see grounds for his dissatisfaction with this or that detail of proportion, balance or instrumentation. (Indeed Berglund, in collaboration with Jalas, made one or two adjustments to the scoring.) Its success in 1892 had put Sibelius firmly on the map as Finland's leading composer: in ambition, scale and originality, it had no precedent in the then provincial world of Finnish music. No doubt because of its programmatic content, Sibelius did not call his Kullervo a symphony on the title-page of the score but ''a symphonic poem for soloists, chorus and orchestra''. However, it is surely as much as symphony as, say, Mahler's Resurrection Symphony, which it actually predates.
The first thing collectors will want to know is whether this new issue represents a decisive improvement over the old. Having been sceptical about the need for a new Sibelius cycle from this conductor, I was delighted to find doubts removed first by his fine reading of the Fourth and Seventh Symphonies (HMV EL270099-1, 9/84) and now this new Kullervo. Berglund's basic conception of the score remains unchanged, save for a somewhat steadier fourth movement, but overall there is, to my ears at least, a much greater lyrical intensity in the shaping of phrases, and altogether greater fantasy in the treatment of detail. To use an ugly phrase, he 'digs deeper' into the score, and conveys more of its epic power and above all its poetry. The seminal horn idea that leads into the second group in the first movement enters ppp—and to heightened dramatic effect, and indeed, I found throughout that this reading makes more of dynamic contrast and grips me far more than did its predecessor. Take the way he shapes the opening paragraph of the second movement with greater poetic intensity, more awareness, but I have to say that alzost every point is better made in this new account, which is fresher and comes more from the heart than its predecessor. Ever since I first heard it, I have thought that the finale, ''Kullervo's Death'', opens with one of the most memorable and haunting sonorities in all early Sibelius and I must say that it is beautifully captured here.
This recording also has the advantage of two very fine soloists. Eeva Liisa Naumanen and the incomparble Jorma Hynninen, while the male choirs from Helsinki University and from Estonia produce a splendidly firmly-focused and black tone colour. The only way in which this does not represent a striking improvement in the recording, which is in the same expert hands of Brian Culverhouse as before. Not that the new recording is anything other than very fine and, of course, there is the richer bass and range of digital recording, but the acoustic of the 1971 version (Guildhall, Southampton) definitely has greater warmth and offers greater transparency and detail than the slightly drier Helsinki venue.
This new issue also brings us two rarities: Our Native Land ( ''Omamaa''), Op. 92, written in 1918 between the Fifth and Sixth Symphonies, which I don't think has been recorded before, and ''Tulen synty'', Op. 32, otherwise known as The Origin of Fire or Ukko the Firemaker. Despite the early opus number, it comes from the period of the Second Symphony and was revised at the time he was working on the Fourth. This has not been recorded since the 1953 version under Thor Johnson (last available on Varese Sarabande VC81941). The Origin of Fire is a powerful piece: Professor Erik Tawaststjerna speaks of it as coming ''close to being one of Sibelius's masterpieces'', and there is much in it that belongs more to the darker world of the Fourth Symphony than to 1902. The solo part is marvellously sung here by Jorma Hynninen, while Berglund gives us a performance of great atmosphere and a brooding intensity—indeed a magical quality that I have often missed in his conscientious but cautious Sibelius readings of the 1970s. If one were asked to place Our Native Land, one's thoughts would turn more to the 1890s than to 1918, and it is certainly no match for its companion on this side. Appealing though it is, Our Native Land, like his other patriotic choral works, does not reflect the ground he has won elsewhere. The performance is a good one, though the sopranos of Helsinki University Choir are not quite so distinguished as the men.
There is no need to be apologetic in considering the claims of Kullervo to be admitted to the Sibelius canon. It is far more than just a work of youthful promise: it is in itself a considerable achievement and a remarkably imaginative work. No one investing in this issue will be disappointed.'