The virile Prelude to Act 2 of Saul and David makes a fine beginning to what is definitely one of the more successful of Salonen's Nielsen recordings. Then a rather over-insistent, almost bumpy statement of the first theme of the Clarinet Concerto raises doubts. But these are soon silenced by a performance which intelligently probes the twistings and turnings of the solo character, with some particularly bold, furious accelerations and an effective balance between soloist and orchestra. Hakan Rosengren's tone may be rather metallic for some tastes, but on the whole he surpasses Thomsen on Chandos and comes close to the outstanding current version by Ole Schill on BIS.
The Flute Concerto also receives a well-rounded characterization. And character is all in these concertos, composed with members of the 1920s Copenhagen Wind Quintet in mind (remarkable that we now take absolute technical fluency for granted in these once so intractable scores). For all its prevailing arcadian lyricism the Flute Concerto can actually take a wider range of character than Per Flemstrom provides here, as the classic Gilbert Jespersen recording showed (12/54—are Decca impervious to pleas for a reissue of this and its equally indispensable coupling, the Erikson account of the Clarinet Concerto?). But the Stockholm trombonist is appropriately reckless (over-refinement in this department is the main weakness in the otherwise delectable Gothenburg recording) and overall this is as satisfying a version as you will find.
Salonen forces slightly in An imaginary trip to the Faroe Islands, and more seriously he shows little or no sympathy with the mellow Nielsen of Springtime in Funen. The bustling final chorus comes off well, but like Segerstam on Chandos he rides unceremoniously over the gentler pages of the score, entirely missing its unobtrusive pastoral rapture. His tenor and soprano soloists leave much to be desired. Tamas Veto's reading on Unicorn-Kanchana is the one to have, although serious Nielsen collectors are bound to regret the continued absence from the catalogues of Mogens Woldike's Philips account (7/67), especially for the tenor's rendition of Nielsen's single most exquisite song. And that prompts me to enter a further plea to EMI to restore their recordings of that wonderful baritonal tenor, Aksel Schiotz—doyen of Danish singing and unsurpassed in Nielsen. Would anyone care to join me in this lobby?'