Sibelius' power to create atmosphere, especially that which is dark, fits perfectly the gloomy struggle of Everyman's journey to save his soul. The medievality of the morality play is captured, here in the 20th century, by the dark stretches of music, the ominous bell-tolling, even the chant-like singing and indeed, the use of the pipe organ. It is almost as if a Gothic cathedral has been transformed into music. Granted that this is stereotyping, both 20th century music and the Medieval world often share something very primal yet intellectual, which creates an almost eerie aura about these eras.

Take for example, the epic quality of the opening prologue, with its opening organ-like booming of solemn brass chords, rolling timpani and warning bells - Prologue appears on stage to warn the audience to take heed of the tale. Or the concentrated 10-minute stretch of mysterious darkness comprising item No.11 (marked "Largo, sempre misterioso"), accompanying a dialogue between Everyman and Good Deeds. Just hushed strings and rumbling timpani, this is without doubt the product of Sibelius as consummate symphonist. The Lahti Symphony Orchestra draws a pale haze of sound from the score, in a seamless weave of quiet, unbroken lines.

Of the 16 numbers in the score, not all are dark. Indeed, one of the most enjoyable pieces is the banquet scene's Dance Song (No.4) "Me kutsun saimme ystävän luo" ("A friend has invited us here"). Here, to Sibelius' characteristic wind hymns, the strings pizzicato lightly, providing a heavenly ripple of harmony above the solo voices singing a dancing tune, with choral refrains in Aeolian minor. The luscious, quiet beauty of the music evokes a scene of gentle rejoicing - if only I could see the production!

Next to this mortal merriment is the noble serenity of Faith and Good Deeds. Whenever they appear, the sisters grace the score with music of soothing strength, as when Faith manifests (No.12) in aid of Everyman - I guess the word to describe this music is Marian.

An organ ascends to declare the purification of Everyman's soul. This music would easily fit into a sacred setting, so in-tune is the writing (so Bach-like... I think) with the atmosphere of a religious ceremony. Then, the scene darkens. The strings groan ghostly as the Devil attempts to thwart Everyman's journey. Suddenly, when one least expects it, Sibelius - master of modulation - shifts the key towards light. Bells peal briefly to signal the nearness of the journey's end. The Devil gives up and leaves.

Lento. In No.15, ever so quietly but always full of suspense, Everyman steps into his grave with Good Deeds. Death follows behind. The organ, almost inaudible, breathes as the bells again sound in the distance... "Gloria in excelsis Deo" - sings the choir as Everyman ascends to Heaven. No, there is no Romanticisation here - Sibelius preserves the dark majesty that makes this music unmistakably 20th century. There is even a curious rambling section for the male choir that sounds eerie to the core. The wheel has come full circle and Sibelius repeats material from the opening music. Death returns Everyman to God.

Everyman was premiered on 5th November 1916. The stage, it is said, was nearly completely black. Critics praised the music, saying the play would have been weak without it. For a performance in 1935, at the composer's 70th birthday, Sibelius asked that the audience should not applaud at the end to preserve the solemn atmosphere. Listening to this world-premiere recording here, I cannot agree more.

Right: "The Feast of Belshazzar", c. 1635 by Rembrandt. Probably the most famous depiction of the story. "The writing on the wall" is "MENE, MENE, TEKEL, PARSIN" ("Number, number, weight, divisions" - which allude to Belshazzar's impending doom.)

The story is based on the feast of Belshazzar in Chapter 5 of the Book of Daniel. It depicts the events surrounding the prophecy that King Belshazzar of Babylon will be killed by the Jewish girl Leschanah. In the play, Leschanah (whom Belshazzar in fact falls in love with) and Khadra (a court dancer who competes with her for the King's attention) are the key characters, whose jealousy and competition propels the plot towards Belshazzar's death.

The scoring for solo flute, 2 clarinets, 2 horns, percussion (bass drum, cymbals, tambourine, triangle) and strings is deceptive. This is immediate from the opening piece, the Alla marcia (Moderato), which was renamed the "Oriental Procession" in the suite. If you ever buy this disc, try this on your friends: tell them it's by Rimsky-Korsakov - they wouldn't doubt you. The crescendo-diminuendo effect is familiar from the "Intermezzo" from Karelia. But the "Turkish" atmosphere of booming bass drum and rattling tambourine, the minor key swirling woodwind, the sinuous string quivers and the lurid brass wowwing is totally unlike Sibelius!

This is followed by the "Prélude: Notturno", which has been given a place in the Suite as "Solitude". Immediately invoking a quiet cold night, a solo flute sings forlornly over a starfield of strings. Anyone who has gone out in the cold night to watch the stars swim the celestial seas will identify with this music.

This is followed by the beautiful "Den judiska flickans sång" (The Jewish Girl's Song), sung by the homesick Leschanah yearning for Jerusalem. In the calm voice of mezzo Lilli Paasikivi, this is easily the most heavenly invocation on this disc. Sibelius orchestrated the aria as "Nocturne", giving it due honour in the Suite.

The rest of the score comprises mainly the charming "Lifvets dans" (Dance of Life) for flute and clarinet solo; and the threatening "Dödens dans" (Dance of Death), with clarinet at the lowest register, winding about to depict the cobra which poisons Khadra. All this is to accompany her final dances, for Leschanah has forced Belshazzar to condemn Khadra to death. These two dances were combined to form the final movement of the Suite, entitled "Khadra's Dance".