Like Virgil Thomson in the United States, Wilhelm Peterson-Berger was feared as a critic. Even if he did not always compose up to the high ideals he demanded of others, he was a very capable composer, particularly in smaller forms. He also produced five symphonies, and was considering a sixth before he died. Like the First and Second (3/99), No 3 (1915) is built on a large scale and written in a late-romantic language that was already anachronistic. Peterson-Berger had a fine ear for melody (though not perhaps so memorably, in a symphonic context, as his compatriot Atterberg) and knew how to orchestrate: indeed the Third is usually cited as his most important orchestral work. Its sound world is very beguiling, in places like a Swedish ancestor of Vaughan Williams’ Sinfonia antartica without the percussion and refracted through the manner of the Englishman’s Pastoral Symphony. There is a jolly Elgarian bumptiousness to the finale, too, though at all times the accent is Nordic. Yet the style is a touch anonymous, and I found the treatment of the Sami joiks that make up its core material less memorable than the thematic developments in the Second Symphony.
The Symphony is certainly more imposing than the accompanying Earina Suite (1917; the title derives from the Greek word for Spring, reflecting the composer’s lifelong love of ancient Greece). Orchestrated from a piano original, this is light music, pleasant enough, but wallpaper. The Chorale and Fugue from his all-but-forgotten comic opera The Doomsday Prophets (also 1917) is much more successful, and rousingly concludes this very entertaining disc. The performances by the excellent Norrkoping orchestra are as excellent as always, and Jurowski has a real feel for the style. Sound is excellent.'