We're avoiding the usual northern lights and fjord scenes for now, as this concert is as much about bruises (and recovering from them) as cruises (which sometimes need recovering from too). There's a generational issue in play to a degree too. Many simply forget how life was before the Berlin wall came down. Eastern Europeans don't forget, and the Polish experience in the '80s has lessons for many today too.

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On our first outing in Towcester we earned a standing ovation for a superb rendition of Scandinavia's finest pieces. It was a delight to see (and earned a special encore).

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A sea change happened in classical composition in the late '70s and early '80s when audiences started preferring a return to tunefulness, harmony, and peaceful works. The angular, atonal, and experimental period had its uses, but it was not 'reading the room'. Minimalism from the likes of Tavener, Part, and Gorecki took off.

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The picture above is the Gdansk shipyard, where safety-helmeted peaceful protesters tipped the first domino that would see the end of repressive communism in Eastern Europe by '89.

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Synonymous with this is Gorecki's famous Miserere, written in support of the striking (farmers and) shipyard workers. Its sonorous bass, layered, and both patient and impatient tone, reflects the righteous anger of that time. It's a deliberately 'bare', even 'raw' piece, and while you can revel in its sonorous minimalism; it's a protest song at heart. Lech Walesa led the resistance and became known for his 'sayings'. 'It's good that something bad happened' probably sums up his love of duality, and indeed the impact of this piece especially.

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It's a challenge for any choir and puts our basses through their paces especially, but it's the foundation of a varied and wonderful celebration of mostly contemporary Scandinavian and Baltic-based composers.

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We're contrasting it with a much lighter piece from a (pre-1917) Russian master. Tchaikovsky's Liturgy of St John Chrysostom has a superb Hymn to the Cherubim. Time for the ladies to take the lead as this challenging classic raises the roof. Oh and forget the 'lil bambinos with wings' idea - Ezekiel's Cherubims were part Ox, part Lion, and part Eagle, with flaming swords guarding Eden, so expect some soaring muscular Christianity in this interpretation. 

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In our second half we're taking a much lighter approach to the simple beauty that marks much of recent Baltic composing. It's not only becoming, in effect, a 'school' of composing in its own right, it is also spawning many of the best a cappella choirs. Grieg and Sibelius will be well-known pieces, alongside Gjeilo's Northern Lights (rude not to). And perhaps a reminder too of what happens when a woman like Lagertha takes power...