Interestingly, all three pieces here have their birth in 1947, but the similarities between the two composers ends there.

The SSO had been recording these works since Monday, for the Swedish label BIS - as before, the microphones still hung above, a silent jury. The last time I attended a concert of Tcherepnin (left) premieres by the SSO, I did not receive a long-lasting nor exactly enthusiastic impression, that much I remember. But tonight, my expectations were overturned by the fabulous performance of the composer's Fourth Piano Concerto, as well as the quality of the music.

That the work's title is "Fantaisie" suggests that Tcherepnin probably intended more than a bit of tone-painting, rather than just an abstract exercise in concerto writing. The results show - the Chinese imagery, coming from sources such as traditional dwellings, Wu Song (the famous tiger slayer), the lady Yang Gui Fei and a journey to Yunnan, convey a colourful and evocative portrait of the Eastern ideas that so fascinated Tcherepnin.

The work is instantly accessible, but not cheap saccharine. The first movement, "Eastern Chamber Dream", begins with a lyrical opening, with lush themes. This quiescent section is followed by a tumultous Shostakovichian passage. If I recall correctly (such is the difficulty of reviewing 'live' premieres), these two sections take turns to repeat in very smart pace. The tension hardly lets up. I found Tcherepnin's use of the lower orchestra particularly notable - it is evident that he relished the lines for double-bass, cello, bassoon, trombone/tuba and the lower percussion, with their highly distinct roles. So distinct in fact, one is given the thought that he perhaps wrote the work from bottom up. There is a fabulous section pitting the piano's lowest register with the tam-tam in crescendo, for example; or another with gorgeous string melodies against clashing piano chords - not 100% new, but very nicely done. This 16-minute movement is a piece full of dark vitality, expertly crafted, and with a majestic conclusion to boot.

The second movement is called "Yan Kuei Fei's Love Sacrifice", a reference to one of the four famous beauties of ancient China. Born Yang Yu Huan (719-756), she was conferred the title of Yang Gui Fei as the imperial concubine of the Tang dynasty emperor Xuan Zhong. But her beauty caused the previously conscientious ruler to neglect his country. Yang was eventually murdered, though the programme notes say (and possibly Tcherepnin read that) she sacrificed herself.

The movement begins with a cor anglais solo in pentatonic scale, I believe, to which the piano solo responds playfully (is this the concubine?). The construction of the music is mainly in terms of big orchestral strides and stops, in some instances with great sweep. There are also moments of quiet beauty, with much original writing. The piano part itself tends to be somewhat piecemeal, somewhat like manifold splashes of water, yet all remains very organised and unified.

The short finale, a joyous celebration of the "Road to Yunnan", is a brillliant and vibrantly Chinese tone poem. The piano indulges in much melodic inspiration, not at all clichéd, with the composer again using the lower brass to excellent effect.

In all, the SSO, Shui Lan and of course, Ms Ogawa, performed most skilfully and dedicatedly. This music and the musicians surely deserve a good recording and much publicity. I look forward to the release.

... Which is the opposite of what I'm going to say about the Yardumian pieces.

OK, it's the 21st century. I think there are times when one should not pay too much attention to the postmodern disease of thinking all "art" is Art. As a concert reviewer today, it is not my role to judge whether the music is good or not. I am supposed to be reviewing the performance. But sometimes, the performance seems to exceed expectations while the music itself fails. So, please indulge me.

I found both the Yardumian pieces unoriginal. The concerto begins with the ordinary loud flourish of the violin concerto's introduction and the following "passionate" musings. You may note that I said the same thing for Tcherepnin's concerto - that it begins with something "Romantic". So what's the difference? Or am I being biased? Actual orchestration aside, which is more subjective, I would say the difference lies in how you connect such an opening passage to the rest of the music. Whereas Tcherepnin develops, alternates and upkeeps the material, Yardumian does not.

What is further unfortunate is the large amount of wasted material in the Violin Concerto, material which is presented but not quite developed. The music itself is not unattractive; it is OK in a non-offputting manner - but wherein lies the art? What is the philosophy (if any) behind this? Where is the intellectual (if any)? The solo violin part consists of winding snatches of melodic fragments, with the obligatory double-stops and pizzicato. But to this reviewer, the music simply doesn't say anything substantial - it just leaves a very shallow impression. I am unable to appreciate this.

The young violinist Alexandr Bulov was only given two days, I was told, to learn the part (the score was changed at the last minute) - but he performed bravely and quite flawlessly, even with conviction. I would advise him though, to get rid of the loud inhalations.

The programme notes, utterly crucial to an ignorant reviewer such as myself, are a bit strange. It begins, "Born on April 5 1917 in Philadelphia, Yardumian enjoyed a rather unusual career as a twentieth century composer." Huh? Did I miss something? "... [H]e was largely self-taught, his musical styles were influenced by explorations in ancient Armenian and regional American composers." Richard Yardumian was composer-in-residence of the Philadelphia Orchestra from 1950-1964. The author does not say much about what has gone in the composer's mind when he was writing these pieces. This is the opposite of the notes for Tcherepnin.

The rest of the notes dive into the deep end of the "In movement A, X theme in Y key does B to Z theme in W key, and the compositional strategy... significant pitches of focus..." type of gobbledygook. If you ask me, this belongs to a musicological thesis at a music school, not a concert hall programme booklet. What I want to know is what concepts, or themes, ideas, historical facts went into the making of the work. This will help us all to understand.

Yardumian's Second Symphony is essentially an orchestral song suite or cycle, cast for medium voice and orchestra. The first movement is a setting of Psalm 130. The second was written more than a decade after, setting several psalm quotations. The notes say it is a "richly orchestrated song-cycle with arresting melodic lines" but in fact the work is more voice-dominant, with fairly insubstantial parts for orchestra.

The text setting of the first movement is very fine in itself, but as a whole the piece is oddly incoherent, largely due to the annoying writing for brass, bellowing meaningless rant at all the strangest places, disrupting the pulse of the music. Minus the brass, I thought, the music would have been great.

Mahlerian mezzo-soprano Nancy Maultsby performed most admirably, in commanding and clear voice - as I've mentioned - almost eclipsing the orchestra. She does have a tendency to sing every word with an "ö" sound though, which I found uncomforting. But I have no doubt as to her capacity for singing passionately.

The second movement is, in my opinion, rather more inferior to the first. The vocal line displays virtually no relation to the orchestral writing, which tends to make everything hard to follow. Again there is a sense of lack of development. All the texts are treated in the same way, with no attempt whatsoever at word painting. This leaves the composer with only one other main method to capture audience attention - melody. But Yardumian prefers, it seems, fragments rather than full-blown melody. This is not wrong; you can make something out of fragmented structures, but nothing develops here. I am unable to detect any artfulness and/or intellectualism in the music. The setting of Psalm 121 is a (quote) "vocal cadenza" - but there are hardly any technical fireworks as the term suggests. In fact the entire movement's voice writing is closer to recitative or accompagnato rather than song, a la "cantabile".

Melody is a huge problem, as music history has proved, as far as setting the English language is concerned (the text of the Symphony is in English). Very few composers have successfully mastered the difficult art of capturing the rhythmic nuances of this messy language. Yardumian does not disprove this. His vocal part here does not attempt to examine the text's words' (suggested) rhythms; and is, as mentioned, short on aesthetics. So, no melody, no word-painting, no exploiting the language's nature, no idea. In my humble opinion, I'm afraid, singing words to specified notes does not necessarily artful music make.

The performances tonight were all exemplary; but as far as examples of 20th century music is concerned, I think we of the 21st century deserve a small right to make a judgement. I don't think I'll be buying the Yardumian CD.

CHIA HAN-LEON is pleased to see that Botticelli now graces double-decker buses. Too bad the people in charge of transportation efficiency aren't exactly artists. (Of course I'm biased. All reviewers are biased, especially the ones who can't admit it.)

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"To a Russian, the East is not exotic; it is familiar, a part of Russian nature. Western influence on Russia might be materially important but it is spiritually destroying, while Eastern influence is of great artistic and spiritual value."

- Alexander Tcherepnin