Composed shortly before his death in 1998, Schnittke’s ultimate symphony – actually his very last work – is a “Ninth” in a most unusual sense: Put down with a shaky left hand by an artist who had survived four strokes and was laterally debilitated, it is an impressive triumph of spiritual energy over physical constraints. The composer’s widow Irina treated the barely-legible manuscript as a testament and was long doubtful whom to entrust with the difficult task of deciphering and reconstructing the highly expressive three movements for large orchestra (some 38 minutes of music). She finally settled on Moscow-born Alexander Raskatov, who not only provided a thorough score but, convinced that Schnittke had intended to write a fourth movement, also developed the idea to add an independent epilogue, the “Nunc Dimitis” (“Lord, let thy servant now depart into thy promis'd rest”) for mezzo soprano, vocal quartett and orchestra. It is based on the famous text by orthodox monk Starets Siluan and on verses by Joseph Brodsky, Schnittke’s favourite poet. Both pieces were given their first performances in the Dresden Frauenkirche in summer 2007 by the musicians of this world première recording which feautures long-standing ECM protagonists the Hilliard Ensemble and conductor Dennis Russell Davies.

Arvo Pärt delivers a brief collection of sacred music -- bold, stoic, and sober. His compositions are full of a passionate and melancholy sort of life, a life of deep humility and faith. One of his earliest releases on the ECM label, Tabula Rasa is a richly woven tapestry of string arrangements, and a good introduction to his work. The album opens with Fratres -- a signature piece for the composer that would have many re-tellings over the years. Here, ECM veteran Keith Jarrett's piano has a rich dialogue with Gidon Kremer's violin; both musicians traverse the chilled waters of Estonia with urgent staccato and contemplative grace. The piece returns later in more ominous quietude, this time whispered out by the 12 cellists of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra. This arrangement is much more meditative in nature, more reverent perhaps to Pärt's deity, and essentially the centerpiece of the album. Cantus in Memory of Benjamin Britten is a loving, almost melodramatic tribute to a composer that Pärt wished very much to meet (though never did). Cellos and violins drip tears that cascade ever downward to a chord which seems to close infinitely, resonating with the peal of a distant church bell. Pärt's final selection, Tabula Rasa, follows much of the same bittersweet territory as what came before it, though it does encompass greater degrees of discord at the offset. As the 25-minute-long piece settles into night, icy clusters of prepared piano fall between the exchange of two violins and chamber orchestra to invoke feelings of sacrifice, mystery, and deliverance. This is a modest but pivotal recording to own -- the essence of Arvo Pärt. ~ Glenn Swan, All Music Guide