Don't blame yourself if you don't recognize the name of the Norwegian composer Leif Solberg – when he turned up at the Christmas party of the Norwegian Composers' Union a couple of years ago, they didn't know who he was either. Solberg has been at best a marginal figure in Norwegian musical life, cut off from the Oslo committees which decide who gets heard. His isolation has been both stylistic – his traditionalist craft sitting ill with the modernism that ruled Nordic roosts until recently – and literal, since he has been content with the low-profile rewards of galvanising musical activity in Lillehammer, two hours' train ride north of Oslo.