Orion (2002)

The vast infinity of space was stunningly evoked by Kaija Saariaho in Orion, a three movement work edged with eerie electronic-sounding effects produced by the orchestral instruments themselves. Her busy and noisy universe was underpinned by low pulsADVERTISEMENTating organ chords danced on by an array of metallic percussion, decaying string sounds and spangly brass and woodwind – an unsettling but fascinating spacescape bleached of all colour.

The music only became more grounded in the finale, Hunter, with a fast and furious chase between the frenzied strings and strident brass ending with an ingenious "ting" of the triangle.

Kaija Saariaho’s Orion presented this Finnish composer’s familiar assembly of massed, frosted-glass sonorities – immaculately wrought, and sympathetically written for orchestra and audience alike.

Not only is this her longest purely orchestral piece at 25 minutes, but the three descriptively-titled movements show Saariaho, avowedly a non-programmatic composer, come rather closer to the actions of human beings, albeit mythical ones, than previously.

Orion is the name both of a constellation and of the murdered son of Neptune, and to this duality Saariaho has added the life/death dichotomy of the first movement 'Memento mori'. The movement is particularly successful as Saariaho is more seductive and less gritty in her sound-world than we are used to. A subtle lament of anguish using glissando flutes during the funeral procession-like section with its primitive descending figures manages to be formally distant and energetic yet at the same time personal and lamenting. Better than - in territory they both inhabit - Birtwistle.

The second movement, 'Winter sky', is more static and impersonal and shows Saariaho's mastery of highly-coloured 'spectralist' orchestral writing, but the movement manages to be more interestingly melodic than usual for this school, even with its typically glacial atmosphere. A sky full of winds and birds as well as glistening stars.

If compositions like Orion are the result of a new approach her name, without too much effort, will continue to rise higher in the musical firmament.

Orion illuminates a night sky of wide horizons. Saariaho has chosen to exploit the contrast between Orion as hyperactive hunter and as fixed heavenly body; and this dichtomy has led her into a sort of cosmic minimalism, distinctively her own.

Memento mori [the first movement] reminds us that we must die by creating a pulsing, mesmeric stratosphere of sound which, in its apparent yet deceptive constancy, seems to exist outside time altogether. Twinkling pitched percussion, hushed woodwind and long bows playing short intervals almost imperceptibly shift to ever shorter note values until the entire orchestra, plus organ, take over.

The second movement, Winter Sky, is another contemplative Saariaho soundscape: double-basses supporting icy harp and piccolo figures in an evocation of frosty static which reminded me of the sensation of sound within the aurora borealis, as electromagnetic soundwaves are turned into acoustic ones. Clarinet, oboe and muted trumpet add their own exquisite frequencies; bowed vibraphone and shivering crotales spangle the multilayered orchestral polyphony.

And finally, the scherzo of the Hunter himself. Saariaho's last movement springs into rapidly ascending and descending chromatic scales, and cosmic hunting horns whoop and tally-ho after three haunting slow episodes seem to recall the spectres of earthly chase.

This stellar triptych has all the marks of Saariaho's minutely-heard, meticulously imagined aural-visual synthesis, now writ confidently large on a formidable orchestral canvas.

Its popularity is understandable, for the orchestral effects are intriguing, its musical shapes bold and uncomplicated. The first movement ends with a peroration like the coronation scene from Boris Godunov filtered through post-serialism. The second movement is woven together from delicate wind solos, while the last is basically a moto perpetuo that generates texture out of activity, though still clouded by sudden harmonic twists.

Welser-Most put his best foot forward with a splendid new work by the Finnish composer Kaija Saariaho, ''Orion.'' This is a three-movement piece about the constellation and the myth behind it. The music is assimilative rather than original; Saariaho knows how to conceal the mechanisms of composition through evocative precision of scoring.

Sibelius looms over Finnish composers today the way Beethoven loomed over his successors in Vienna; Saariaho creates a different sound world but the emotional landscapes are similar: the bardic storytelling in an atmosphere of northernness, cold, isolation, and distance. The second movement, ''Winter Sky,'' is full of eerie, icy sounds. The third puts Orion into the sky by an ingenious but effective means - the music speeds up while simultaneously growing softer and more distant as groups of instruments drop out until there is only a chiming silence.

Thursday night’s Cleveland Orchestra program opened with the New York premiere of Kaija Saariaho’s Orion. Scored for large orchestra (augmented by 2 harps, piano and organ) Orion describes in music the mythical adventurer’s journey across the heavens. For this purpose Saariaho has concocted some stunningly original instrumental combinations, resulting in timbres that often sounded otherworldly, in keeping with the subject matter. The first movement, "Memento mori," opened in a static atmosphere that sounded like a cross between Part II of Stravinsky’s Le Sacre du Printemps, and Jerry Goldsmith’s score to Alien. "Winter Sky," which followed without a pause, continued in this glacially slow vein, but added a faintly human element, as traces of melody appeared wraithlike throughout the movement. A burst of kinetic energy launched the finale, "Hunter," which, after brief reflection on the serene mystery of the preceding movement, moved along at an ever-increasing tempo even as the orchestra gradually trailed off, leaving Orion in his original resting place among the stars. Franz Welser-Möst certainly had full possession of this work, and led the Cleveland Orchestra in a brilliantly played performance.