Hearing the opening selection without knowing the composer’s identity, one might venture to guess Stravinsky in regard to the bold and widely spaced woodwind-writing. Then again, you’ll notice jagged Coplandish phrases, yet the long stretches of rhythmic steadiness suggest a less pantonal version of Hindemith. While contrapuntal traffic is quite busy, it never sounds clogged or congested, as first-desk soloists break loose in free-flowing solo flights. The game plan is decidedly neoclassical but the composer avoids clichés of stylisation and anything remotely formulaic. Whoever is responsible for such seemingly familiar yet refreshing and inventive music possesses a cool head and controlled temperament, even if restless, unpredictable forces frequently rise to the surface.

In short, you’ve been hearing the Sinfonia in C minor by Harold Shapero, whose mentors indeed included Stravinsky, Copland and Hindemith, although he considered Nadia Boulanger to be his greatest teacher. Shapero’s high craft and innate musical gifts did not go unnoticed or unrewarded. His 1948 Symphony for Classical Orchestra caused quite a stir for its fusion of 19th-century symphonic precepts and fiercely contemporary sensibility. After Shapero joined the Brandeis University faculty, his creative output considerably shrank and eventually dried up. André Previn’s revival of the Symphony in the late 1980s generated new interest in Shapero, and sparked the composer’s creativity a bit.

This year marks what would have been Shapero’s 100th birthday, and what better way to reassess his legacy than by Gil Rose and the Boston Modern Orchestra Project presenting some of the composer’s long-unheard masterpieces, including the aforementioned Sinfonia. The Credo for orchestra is lyrical and slow-moving, featuring wide, uplifting melodic leaps tempered by discreet yet palpable dabs of dissonance. Written for jazz ensemble, On Green Mountain transforms a Monteverdi madrigal into a deftly scored and organically swinging tour de force: it conveys the airy intricacy of what would be known as ‘Third Stream’ jazz without working too hard to make its points.

The excellent annotator Rodney Lister likens Shapero’s 1945 Serenade in D for string orchestra to ‘diatonic Babbitt’ in terms of its textural and rhythmic complexity; I’d lean towards two other ‘Bs’: Bloch and Bartók. However, for structural rigour, emotional force and unambiguous originality, the multi-movement Partita in C minor for piano and small orchestra takes top honours. Soloist Vivian Choi clearly revels in the piano part’s sweeping scales and organ-like sonorities building from the bottom up, and her assertive projection underlines the writing’s urgency and sinew. Shapero’s music stands apart from trends and fashions, never takes the easy way out and communicates with authority. If you care the least about important American orchestral music, don’t miss this release.