1 April 2002
Stuart Wood

As the unearthly voice of Mongolian singer Ganbaatar Khongorzul floats out of my Imac I return to a childhood dream. I am sitting on a train speeding across the Mongolian plains, gazing out at the horses. This long song where words are drawn out over arching phrases has a dusty stillness and an extraordinary emotional power.

The singer is joined by more musicians in Legend of Herlen, a new composition based on the ancient Mongolian form. Here, Yo Yo Ma enters the scene on his Monoglian Horsehead Fiddle - learned specially for the project. More combinations unfold, through the traditional Chinese songs of Blue Little Flower and Mido Mountain. This second piece, an arrangement of the folk tune for Chinese instruments, cello, percussion and tabla, is a vibrant evocation of village life. It has the feel of an Appalachian ho-down, with intricate fiddle patterns and a bouncing bass. Aaron Copland would be proud.

In Moon Over Guan Mountain film composer Zhao Jiping (Farewell My Concubine, Raise the Red Lantern) draws on folk tunes from northern China. And after this feast of East Asian history we are whisked across the continent to Scandinavia, for Five Finnish Folksongs. Such is the air of eclecticism that these delicate pieces by Japanese composer Michio Mamiya feel right at home. This may be down to his approach, drawing from the commonalities between the indigenous music of his home culture and Finnish traditions.

With a tremulous, quivvering shift, the focus turns to Persia, further along the Silk Road. It's funny how our listening becomes tuned for common ground. Shades of Irish folk music emerge in Avaz-e Dashti, an improvisation by Iranian masters on traditional tunes. It's great to hear improvisation on a final recording like this. In some senses it is the heart of the record. The combination of plucked and struck strings with a reedy bamboo flute gives a knife-edge tension.

In a noteworthy collaboration between Middle East and US, contemporary piece Habil-Sayagy contains prepared piano, in the mode of John Cage, by composer Franghiz Ali-Zadeh. Its brooding opening on the cello opens out into a dialogue with piano prepared with mutes, mallets and glass beads. It's a drop-dead gorgeous effect.

Blue as the Turquoise Night of Neyshabur is the record's biggest piece, both in duration and instrumentation. Scored for western and Iranian strings, tabla, and Iranian flute, it has a careful integrity. The authentic combination of diverse elements is achieved through a focus on basic scalic forms and the key qualities of each instrument. Composer Kayhan Kalhor uses his musicians with a delicate sense of time.

Winding up for a big finish, the jovial Chi Passa per'sta strada is another example of how our listening plays tricks. An Italian Renaissance song is here scored for European and Chinese strings and Indian percussion, sweeping us perhaps to sixteenth century Venice. A brilliant turn on Chinese sheng is just one highlight of this bizarre yet satisfying improvisation. I would love to have heard the spontaneous laughter in the studio after that recording. It must have been a hoot to play.

Fans of last year's classic Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon will be pleased to note a bonus track from the film, featuring Ma and other musicians from the ensemble. It's a cute ending, but I would still prefer a minute of thirteen musicians giggling after that Italian Job.