Thank goodness that‚ despite many vicissitudes‚ the complete Ligeti project has got this far. For here at last are the scores with which the composer first made his name in the early 1960s (Apparitions and Atmosphères); here also is Lontano (1967)‚ one of the finest orchestral scores of the 20th century‚ and San Francisco Polyphony of 1974‚ which inaugurates the more self­consciously virtuosic and referential approach that characterises Ligeti’s subsequent works for large forces (Le Grand Macabre‚ and the concertos for piano‚ violin and horn); and‚ as a postscript of sorts‚ an early score from the composer’s pre­Western period. The latter has its first recording here; rather more incredibly (given its position in Ligeti’s output)‚ so does Apparitions. On the last count alone‚ this recording is simply a must for anyone interested in ‘new music’. The two premières here are studio recordings‚ whereas Atmosphères‚ Lontano and San Francisco Polyphony were recorded live. A previous recording of Atmosphères and Lontano with the Vienna Philharmonic under Claudio Abbado was also live‚ and unsatisfactory on a number of counts (not least unwanted audience ‘participation’). Thankfully there are very few such problems here: the general accuracy is commendable‚ considering the difficulty of co­ordinating dozens of individual lines (for example‚ getting 80­odd instruments to attack pianissimo together at the beginning of Atmosphères: the Berliners just about manage it; at any rate‚ they are nearer the mark than the other recordings I know). The sound­quality has all the requisite impact and delicacy‚ and the orchestra’s shaping of line and continuity (and‚ when required‚ their opposites) is equally persuasive. (The conclusion of San Francisco Polyphony really ratchets up the tension‚ ending with a fearsome bite.) So the distinction between live and studio is minimal‚ and does not work to the detriment of the former. The order of the programme is worth remarking on. Those pieces recorded live need no advocacy: they are all firmly entrenched in the Ligeti ‘canon’. From this standpoint‚ Apparitions is curious. Ligeti’s biographer‚ Richard Toop‚ notes its relative lack of popularity compared to succeeding scores‚ suggesting that its surface discontinuities are rather too close to the serial aesthetic that Ligeti was radically to challenge shortly thereafter. Toop may be right‚ but Apparitions’s raw energy suggests a composer simply desperate to throw off the restrictions previously forced upon him. This ties in both with the next work‚ San Francisco Polyphony (which foregrounds discontinuity to an extent rarely encountered elsewhere in Ligeti’s music)‚ and also to the Concert Românesc. Ligeti writes in his notes that ‘people in the West cannot begin to imagine what it was like under the Soviet empire’. Well‚ the fact that even this Concerto was banned by the authorities leaves a rather terrifying impression. It does little for me‚ I admit; but there are audible Ligeti ‘moments’ (especially in the final movement)‚ and ideas that the composer recalls in his most recent music (for example‚ the pieces for horn). As a document of the state of music under the Soviets it has an undeniable eloquence. Have I convinced you that this is a recording worth having? I hope so.