It comes as no surprise to learn that Glass’s Third Symphony (Wood‚ 1900­01) was ‘one of the most frequently performed and popular Danish symphonies at the beginning of the 20th century’. A 36­minute hymn to the glories of the Danish countryside‚ one could characterise it as pastoral­dramatic‚ although this is no precursor to Tapiola. The drama comes through the music’s Wagnerian and – as others have noted – Brucknerian associations. With early­21st century hindsight‚ Glass’s style may seem a touch prolix – the finale of No 3‚ for example‚ is far too long – and a might clichéd‚ but it is all honestly constructed. Subtitled Birth of the Scyldings (though Danacord do not enlighten us as to who they were nor is there room to‚ here)‚ Glass’s Sixth and last symphony (1924) strikes a more heroic attitude. Unfortunately‚ its rhetoric is rather empty after the poetry of the Wood Symphony and it was not received so well at its première. Too often the idiom sounds like overblown film music (though that is hardly Glass’s fault). As the notes suggest‚ there is a whiff of Stravinsky about the brief scherzo; there is more than a hint of Bizet in the central Giostra (‘Joust’). The Plovdiv Philharmonic Orchestra are not a top­flight ensemble but give sincerely committed performances‚ as they did before of the large Fourth (8/00). The recording is a little rough­and­ready‚ and does not supplant Peter Marchbank’s rival South African version. But the disc is worth investigating for the Third alone. In his Second Symphony of 1899 (contemporary therefore with Sibelius’s First)‚ Glass set out his stall as a mature composer for all to hear. Using a large orchestra – including a contrabass tuba‚ a battery of percussion‚ organ (in the finale) and male chorus (in the third‚ slow movement) – and expansive tonal language‚ he showed what a skilled polyphonist and orchestrator he was on a grand scale. At times his inspiration did not always keep pace with his technical achievement – particularly in the overlong outer movements – but the work is none the less an enjoyable and broadly satisfying whole. The Fantasia for piano and orchestra written 14 years later is more compact‚ its harmonic language more forward looking albeit still of a cautious cast. Glass was a noted pianist in his day so it is surprising that this Fantasia‚ with its enchanting duos between the soloist and various orchestral members‚ would prove his only work for the combination. These are spirited and full­blooded performances. The Plovdiv orchestra have audibly got closer to the heart of Glass’s sound world as this series has progressed‚ and Todorov’s understanding of the music’s structures is convincing. The same caveats as with previous issues apply here. The recording is somewhat murky and in places the orchestral playing technically is not of the standard one expects from orchestras in Western Europe or North America. These failings should not be over­emphasised‚ however‚ as this – as with the previous volumes – is a perfectly serviceable issue of two otherwise unknowable scores.