I don`t expect this to be a long running thread  but .... Ian Burnside played one movement from Cantus Arcticus (shame he couldn`t have played the whole thing) and his guest indicated that he felt it `sentimental`. Not the first word that would spring to my mind when attempting to describe this piece. Or did I misinterpret what the guest (who was he?) was saying?

Ron. I noticed there was no guest listed, although that`s not particularly important. It was his interpretation that I am curious about. Does anyone else feel there is sentimentality about `Cantus Arcticus` ?

With a movement called "Melancholy" one does wonder what he's got to be melancholy about except for sentiments.

Also, the 3rd mvt is called "Swans Migrating" -- and if they're migrating off to the distance, that might engender certain sentiments of the wistful variety.

As Mr Dough's already said... melancholia is an intrinsic part of the "northern" character... Swedes, Balts, and Northern Russians are prone to it too.  Perhaps six months of winter has something to do with it?   I was up in Murmansk (Russian Arctic Circle) exactly twelve months ago, on a trip, and there was only 30 minutes of hazy daylight per day...  you are entombed in miserable darkness (made worse in Murmansk by non-stop drizzling rain) for the entire time.  Although it might sound romantic, the reality is rather like being on board a nuclear submarine that never surfaces for weeks.. claustrophobic, suffocating, and desperately miserable.  Children under 7 years old have to have sun-ray lamp treatment every day at school, to prevent them getting rickets.  We didn't even see the aurora borealis, although Murmansk is supposed to be a prime spot for them when conditions are favourable.  The alleged high suicide rate for these parts of the world is said to be considerably exaggerated, but I can easily imagine how the darkness could heighten any susceptibility to depression that was already present.   Of course, there's the "Midnight Sun" during the summer - but that's hardly compensation for the winter darkness in my book

Continuing with this disc - part of my haul from Gramex back in August, but not played until prompted by Mort's thread - there's a string quartet (No.4) as well as a symphony (No. 5) included, which reminds me that there are plenty more symphonic cycles from the north to discover; he's written eight so far, I think.

I heard it - I seem to remember hearing that the guest was Simon Keenlyside...

I was thinking, as I heard the piece, that it was very sentimental and quite twee as well. Undoubtedly there were some beautiful sounds, but I found the 'birdsong with melancholy orchestral accompaniment' idea rather embarrassing, I'm afraid. And I say that as no stranger to the delights of curlew calls, as well as melancholy orchestral music!!

That's a shame, as my street is impassable due to snowdrifts. However, from a distance I'd say you're right -- the 5th Symphony is more palatable than Cantus Arcticus. But it's no comparison to heaps of melancholy nordic orchestra music that I prefer. (including a recent very satisfying spin of Allan Pettersson's 15th and 9th Symphonies, at last!)

And here's a lovely poem with which members are shirley familiar (thanks to Hank W. Longfellow):

THE TIDE rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveller hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.

Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.

The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveller to the shore,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.

So we were talking about different things,

'then we measured swords, and parted' - Touchstone, As You Like It