On reading Carsten Fastner’s profile of a composer who ‘consistently repudiates [the] complacent eclecticism which several of his colleagues use to thrill a broad public, especially in Anglo-American regions’, you might think Johannes Maria Staud is a composer at the extreme of elitism. Thirty this year, Staud is uncompromising in that his music’s fierce immediacy demands an equally unequivocal response from the listener.

The most substantial work on this collection (composed 1996-2003), A map is not the territory considers the relationship between object and subject. The three movements take in an arching crescendo, a malevolent scherzo and a traversal from explosive activity to pulsating anticipation. Fastidious dynamics and textures, coupled with a powerful, Messiaenic harmonic profile, make for disturbing listening. As does Polygon, inspired by that name’s archaic sound as well as by the sculpture by installation artist Walter De Maria, and a visceral take on the solo/ensemble format.

Bewegungen is a study in transition and the transitive – solo piano working through a number of discrete ideas which audibly co-relate without forming a larger continuity. Such is also the case with Black Moon, inspired by images from early Surrealist cinema and giving free rein to the bass clarinet’s wilder impulses. The most recent item leaves the strongest impression. Described as a ‘song of vanishing’, Berenice integrates electronics with soprano and ensemble into an indissoluble image of beauty and decay.

Excellent performances from all involved – not least Klangforum Wien, projecting the music with the impact it requires. No translation of the text for Berenice, but the composer’s notes supply the background to each piece. He may not yet have the presence of Olga Neuwirth or Georg Friedrich Haas, but Staud writes with a conviction likely to mature into something formidable over the next decade.