Since no one else is contributing...
Saariaho: Circle Map (from Horizon V, as it's called on AmazonUS, or Horizon 5, as it's called on AmazonUK; also on Youtube)
I'm not a fan of speech mixed in with music. That out of the way, I think the music can be pretty good, mysterious, dark, as usual for the kind of contemporary music that most appeals to me.
I'm not intimately familiar with it, as I'm not intimately familiar with pretty much anything beyond the Common Practice Period, but one impression I had was that Saariaho uses more repetition than is typical for classical composers - of short phrases and phrase elements, sometimes on the background, sometimes on the foreground. Repetition like this when used in such a sophisticated manner brings order into chaos without making that order sound trite or soulless (like too much sequencing would, as might too heavy use of too few motives). Of course, there's also sequencing and probably more motivic development than I picked up on (I don't usually bother paying attention to development - I have my ears full trying to follow the sounds as sounds, and I'm distrustful of a more intellectual approach to music anyway).
At any rate, I think this music might appeal to those who would ordinarily find atonal music too orderless.
If you don't like the beginning, well it gets better.
Here's commentary by someone who makes a living out of making people think you can say something meaningful about music (perhaps you'll prefer it to my commentary above):
It's been said that reading a poem in translation is a bit like kissing a bride through a veil. Yet what a veil Kaija Saariaho has given us in her exquisitely drawn "Circle Map," a new work for orchestra and electronics that builds out - in many concentric circles - from six stanzas of poetry by the 13th-century Persian poet Rumi.
The Persian verse itself was of course translated, in the literal sense, in the program book for Thursday night's US premiere of this work by the Boston Symphony Orchestra. Yet what Saariaho has done in her work was a deeper kind of translation, at once vaporizing these texts and making them strangely tactile.
She has done so by building her work on a recording of the Persian artist Arshia Cont reciting the Rumi quatrains in their original language. Then, employing a strategy she has used in many electro-acoustic works, Saariaho digitally refracted the recorded voice and composed a full orchestral score around it, one that is keenly attentive to the granular surface details of the recording.
You can think of it as high-modernism at play with digital sound art, rendered with an extremely refined ear, a formal rigor, and a sensual French-inflected timbral palette.
Jeremy Eichler, The Boston Globe,11/2/2012