Both symphonies on this album originated from competitions. The impetus for Atterberg’s Fourth Symphony was a friendly wager with fellow Swedish composer Natanael Berg to see who could write a better orchestral work with two parameters: that it last no longer than twenty minutes and, bizarrely, that it feature a solo bass tuba in “splendid isolation.” 

The bet ended up in a push (initial run-throughs of both works both ran well over the allotted time), but Atterberg’s Sixth Symphony ended up netting a far more lucrative prize. To commemorate the 100th anniversary of Franz Schubert’s death in 1928, the Columbia Phonograph Company sponsored a competition calling for “original symphonic works … presented as an apotheosis of the lyrical genius of Schubert.” Atterberg beat out a field of nearly 500 composers from 26 countries, charming a distinguished jury (that included Carl Nielsen, Alexander Glazunov, Donald Tovey, and Franco Alfano) to win a then-whopping $10,000 grand prize. The “Dollar Symphony,” as it quickly came to be known, incited a critical brouhaha, as it contains little Schubertian melodrama, but an ample supply of ironic whimsy – the following year, Atterberg published an article titled How I Fooled the Music World, coming clean that the symphony was, in part, a parody of pompous Schubert devotees. By that time, the Symphony had already been performed in twenty cities, and Atterberg was laughing his way to the bank in the new Ford Model A he purchased with his winnings. The high-strung playing of Neeme Jarvi and the Norrkoping Symphony Orchestra milk these works for every penny, handily demonstrating Atterberg’s snarky humor and championship DNA.