Other than his underwhelming climaxes in No 1, Inkinen hits the mark with all other six. In the finale to No 2, for instance…Inkinen brings a vitality to this long and repetitive shape I haven’t heard from others. It says much of him and the NZSO that this is one of the most consummate versions in a competitive market for Sibelius’s most popular symphony.

It’s the same with his No 3. String detail is crisp even in the difficult viola writing in the first movement. You won’t get a better No 3 on the market than this.

There is an interesting inverse correlation between popularity and greatness in Sibelius, which reaches its peak in No 4, to my mind his greatest work, yet his least popular. How well Inkinen portrays its desolate bleakness… Inkinen turns this into one of Sibelius’s most ominous moments.

Clarity is to the fore, too, in the popular No 5, with crisp woodwind detail and the swaggering positivity of what Donald Tovey called “Thor swinging his hammer” in the finale. The self-effacing No 6, with its pastoral serenity almost hiding its intellectual subtlety, is so modest it sounds chamber orchestra-like much of the time. Inkinen exposes its motivic interrelations well.

No 7’s powerful contraction of thought creates a sense of scale well beyond its 20-minute time frame. Its most sublime section, a chorale two-and-a-half minutes in that starts with divisi eight-part strings, is blossomed out endearingly by Inkinen. I imagine No 7 might be his personal favourite. © 2012 New Zealand Listener Read complete review

This account of the Second, the most popular of Sibelius’s symphonies, was actually recorded at the same October 2008 sessions as the Fifth. In many ways, this is the strongest performance yet in this series. The opening movement sets the tone: Tempos are well judged, the strings make an impressively full sound, and the wind solos are uniformly lovely. The occasional interpretive missteps that Inkinen has made in earlier releases are almost entirely avoided here; only the transition from the scherzo to the Finale seems too slow. Producer/engineer Tim Handley again obtains lovely sound in Wellington’s Michael Fowler Centre. There’s a huge amount of top-notch competition for recordings of this symphony, from the early stereo Ormandy (Sony) and Monteux (Decca) versions to the more recent ones by Blomstedt (Decca) and Segerstam (Ondine), but if you’re looking for a budget-priced, single-disc version of the Second, Inkinen is unlikely to disappoint.

The ebullient Karelia Suite receives a generally attractive reading, although I find the opening Intermezzo and concluding Alla marcia a bit flat-footed—my most frequent criticism of Inkinen’s Sibelius. Still, this disc represents a high point in this Sibelius cycle, and another impressive achievement for the New Zealand Symphony.

Recently, my college-aged son took his roommates to Orchestra Hall in Minneapolis to hear Osmo Vanska conduct the Minnesota Orchestra in Jean Sibelius’s Symphony No. 2. He was totally jazzed about what he heard and was looking for a recording of that symphony. In my stack of new releases I just happened to have one featuring that famous work with a young Finnish conductor, Pietari Inkinen leading the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra. This is the third volume in their new series featuring all of the symphonies by Finland’s number-one son.

Pietari Inkinen was four years old when he began playing violin. At age 14 he got his first shot at conducting and was hooked. He was just 28 years old when he took the helm of the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra in 2008. Inkinen is also Principal Guest Conductor of the Japan Philharmonic in Tokyo and he still plays violin with the Inkinen Trio. As an instrumentalist Inkinen creates an inviting, collaborative atmosphere with his musicians, giving them the freedom they need to fully express the music. The end result is a delightful sense of spontaneity and excitement throughout this recording. The first movement pulsates at an easy-going, flexible pace. The strings always start just after the beat, whereas the melody in the wind section starts squarely on the beat. The silent downbeats become a distinctive feature for this opening movement.

Sibelius and his family were sent to Italy on sabbatical by a wealthy Baron who was a fan of the composer’s music. During his time in Italy Sibelius was able to compose to his heart’s content and immediately his second symphony began to form in his mind. “I am completely a man of imagination,” Sibelius wrote. He worked on his second symphony while absorbing the gorgeous horizon along the blue, sunny Mediterranean. He completed the symphony shortly after returning to Finland in March of 1902, and immediately premiered this fresh-sounding masterpiece, which effectively expressed the misty northern landscape of his homeland. A timpani roll sets the scene for the second movement, and we hear its rumble each time the bassoon melody returns. This second movement has a mysterious tone as the harsh winds whirl throughout this movement. The anticipation builds as Inkinen and the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra soar to the luscious transition that seamlessly unites the third movement and the heroic finale. You can almost picture a hero and heroine triumphantly falling into one another’s arms while the sun sets behind them during the sweeping romantic melody in the finale.

After the fully-satisfying Second Symphony Pietari Inkinen and the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra serve up one final tantalizing morsel, the Karelia Suite. These three movements were part of more....

Inkinen takes a holistic approach to the work, avoiding playing overtly to the gallery—even in the grandiose final hymn—while being alive to the drama in each movement. His account generates great momentum although the pace is not that fast: at 44’16” Inkinen may outstrip Davis yet is nearly two minutes behind Järvi, so tempo is not the whole story here. In any case, neither holds a candle to Kajanus, who took under 39’ in 1930 (Finlandia). The New Zealanders give a fine account of the works and themselves, and if they do not surpass any of the very personally selected rival versions above (the Gothenburgers have more fire, the LSO and Philharmonia more finesse), their particular orchestral blend and Inkinen’s fine direction make this, at the price, keenly competitive.

The symphony is followed by a somewhat relaxed Karelia Suite, feeling exactly right following the intensity of No 2. Again, tempi are deceptive, the newcomer not appreciably different to Järvi or the beautifully played Ashkenazy (originally paired with No 1). The orchestra certainly sound as if they enjoyed themselves and so should you in their company.

From this description, you might think the performance is tame and bland, but it isn’t: while Inkinen brightens the symphony’s Romanticism and epic character, he often works up tension in his leaner textures and more driven pacing to impart a sense of urgency, making Sibelius sound far less finicky, far less meticulous than in so many other performances. While some successful Sibelius conductors, like Sir Colin Davis, convey more of an epic quality, more angst, they are not necessarily more convincing in this symphony. I’m sorry I missed the first two volumes in Inkinen’s Sibelius series (containing Symphonies 1, 3, 4 and 5) because, if I can judge from this performance, they would certainly have been worthy acquisitions, not least because the orchestra plays with plenty of spirit here, even if there are a few imprecisions.

The chipper Karelia Suite gets an appropriately light treatment, though here tempos tend to be on the moderate side. Once again the orchestra plays with commitment. In sum, this third entry in Inkinen’s Sibelius cycle must be given a strong recommendation.

The first thing this interpretation has going for it is a wonderful flexibility of pulse. Particularly in the second movement and finale, Inkinen knows exactly when to push forward and when to relax. The result has excitement, spontaneity, and in the finale, no dead spots. Next, there is the exceptional care he takes over the string playing, energizing the merely accompanimental passages with characterful articulation, and in the scherzo giving shape and point to the music’s general buzz of activity. With unusually transparent textures throughout, the woodwinds have no problem making their presence felt, and the brass acquit themselves honorably in the tuttis. As usual with this orchestra, the timpani lack a certain presence, but not terribly. The result is an interpretation both poised and passionate.

The Karelia Suite is also notable. Inkinen’s tempos in the outer movements are relatively slow (which I personally like), but this only permits an unusual degree of detailing and a sharpness of articulation that never actually sounds sluggish. As already suggested, the acoustics of this venue aren’t the best, but they certainly don’t get in Inkinen’s way, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with the engineering as such. Given that Inkinen has the entire orchestra playing at a very high level of ensemble precision, this is definitely one of the better Second Symphonies of recent days.