Per Nørgård - Symphony No. 3, Concerto in due tempi

Sounds organized in such a fashion are pretty much guaranteed to be aesthetically pleasing, and that's why "Symphony No. 3" (1972-1975) is a veritable triumph. Since the entire work is ingenious sculpted out of these perfect shapes, then I would even dare to say that if someone doesn't enjoy this, they lack a certain humanity. - Christopher Culver, Amazon reviewer

This Chandos disc, another in the line of Per Norgard's symphonies, contains his great third symphony, often regarded as his masterpiece, and is filled out with his "Concerto in due tempi". The Danish National Radio Symphony performs, conducted by Leif Segerstam, with the Danish National Radio Choir on the symphony and pianist Per Salo as soloist on the concerto.

Per Norgard's first great invention of musical structure was the "infinity series", a striking method of serializing melody that creates self-similarity among orchestral parts, an unsuspecting application of fractal mathematics to music. This principle was first overtly displayed in the second movement of "Voyage into the Golden Screen" (1968), available on a fine Da Capo disc, and listening to this is the best way to grasping the concept at its simplest. A given melody is played by the flutes in what can be called "normal time", while the oboes play every fourth note, the trumpets every 64th note, and tubular bells, trombones, and piano every 256th note, and so on for 1024 notes. Norgard's second symphony, written in 1970, was simply a application of this same technique with a longer running time and expanded instrumentation.

In the years immediately following, Norgard began developing harmonic and rhythmic techniques that would augment his melodic serialisation. For harmony, he chose to use the natural overtone series, since this is itself infinite: any harmonic series also has a new harmonic series on each of its partials. For rhythm he chose to use the golden section, the ratio that the Fibonacci sequence approaches, praised since ancient times as the "divine proportion" and also used widely by Sofia Gubaidulina.

Sounds organized in such a fashion are pretty much guaranteed to be aesthetically pleasing, and that's why "Symphony No. 3" (1972-1975) is a veritable triumph. Since the entire work is ingenious sculpted out of these perfect shapes, then I would even dare to say that if someone doesn't enjoy this, they lack a certain humanity. The first movement is powerful but somewhat restrained, and consists of an introduction in two parts followed by two main sections. After an introduction of simple harmonic and melodic material over regular rhythms, the three infinity series are revealed in what is surely one of the most awesome moments in musical history. All things here are so audibly united, and one can even say that this music, with its natural inspirations (for overtones and the Fibonacci sequence were discovered, not invented) represents the glory of creation. It is in this spiritual ecstasy that we enter the second movement, where Norgard has the chorus sing "Alleluia" in ecstasy and then sets three Marian hymns and a Rilke poem. The composer had already set Rilke's "Singe die Gaerten, mein Hertz, die du nicht kennst" for chamber choir and eight instrumentalists earlier in 1975, but decided that it would make a perfect end for the symphony. And so, personal experience is united with the grandure of the universe in this amazing, epic piece.

Segerstam ensures a perfectly elegant pacing and feel here, and I think the performance could be seen as definitive. There's an earlier performance out there on Marco Polo with Herbert Blomstedt conducting the same ensembles, but it seems rather idiosyncratic and jerky in comparison and the recording quality is nowhere near as good.

Norgard's piano concerto "Concerto in due tempi" (1994/95) came after two decades of further experimentation where the infinity series was still an inspiration but other aspects had come to interest the composer. In this piece, Norgard sets out two musical lines that coexist alongside one another, but which move at different speeds, never meeting but sometimes "merging". Sometimes the slow line is foremost, while at other times the faster line is dominant. Per Salo races flawlessly through some tricky music, including a fiendishly complex solo in the middle, and this stands out as one of the finest piano performances I've ever heard–the piano is also recorded quite well. The concerto is indeed entertaining listening, and like the symphony does not alienate the listener in spite of its formidable theoretical basis (it's certainly not "modern" sounding like, say, Elliott Carter). I haven't become entirely comfortable with it yet since I don't grok its structural underpinnings, but I can say it sounds good.

Per Norgard has, I daresay, contributed to the technique of music in our time more than any other single composer, and this disc is a great opportunity to hear some emotionally moving and intellectually provocative concepts. Highly recommend.