Classical Music

Classical Music

Monumental music of great beauty. Kniplová in the title role is magnificent.

Libuše isn’t a traditional opera, rather a large-scale cantata, composed for the coronation of a Czech king. The work was completed in 1872, but it soon turned out that the coronation would not take place and it wasn’t until nine years later that Libuše was premiered to celebrate the wedding of the crown prince and to mark the opening of the National Theatre in Prague. By then Smetana was deaf and wasn’t able to hear a note of this, his most monumental work. The story draws upon an ancient myth about the origination of the Premyslid dynasty of princes and kings, who ruled the country for eleven hundred years.

The opera is divided into three acts. The first is entitled ‘Libuše’s Judgement’ and deals with the conflict between the brothers Chrudoš and Stáhlav; the second is ‘Libuše’s Marriage’ and the third is called ‘The Prophecy’ and concludes with six historical pictures, narrated by Libuše.

For those who only know the opera composer Smetana through The Bartered Bride, the light-hearted and folk-music inspired rural comedy, Libuše may come as a shock – or a revelation. I labelled it ‘monumental’ in the first paragraph of this review and that’s exactly what it is: monumental, solemn and grandiose. When I bought the present recording on four LPs almost forty years ago I only knew Moldau and The Bartered Bride. Since I knew nothing about the work – and was silly enough to start listening without reading the very extensive introductory notes in the booklet, far more comprehensive than the short essay in the CD inlay – the fanfare that opens the overture had me sit up and once the surprise was over I wallowed in the monumental flood of glorious music that streamed out of my loudspeakers. Fanfares, processions and powerful choruses are recurrent in the work, brass instruments naturally dominate much of the proceedings and Wagnerian Leitmotifs are part of the parcel. There is even a beautiful quartet of harvesters in the second act; they seem to be Smetana’s equivalent of Wagner’s Rhine Maidens.

Grand and majestic the music often is, but it is also permeated with warmth and surging melodies. The long prelude to act III is noble and memorable. And there are some hard-hitting dramatic scenes as well. For the Czech people this work has a special significance, not least through Smetana’s ambition to create declamation that emanates from the Czech language. In that respect he is a fore-runner of Janácek.

Recorded more than forty years ago the sound is still much more than acceptable and the singing and playing of the forces from the Prague National Theatre is totally idiomatic. The lack of libretto is however a drawback and even though there is a rather detailed synopsis in the booklet I was glad that I had access to the original book from the LP set.

Monumental music needs monumental solo voices as well and by and large the singers on this recording meet that requirement. Most crucial is the title role and Nadežda Kniplová is admirable throughout. Hers is a grand dramatic soprano, very expansive and with the thrilling ringing top notes needed to ride the orchestra without problems. But she also sings with great restraint and feeling for the more intimate nuances. The recording sessions were spread over seven days and I suppose Ms Kniplová was able to record her part in smaller doses. In the theatre this role must be a tremendous challenge, not least to have to sing the six concluding pictures after so long and strenuous an evening. But even if she was able to record smaller portions in the studio this is a glorious achievement.

As Krasava, Milada Šubrtová is splendid, more lyrical than Libuše but still with glorious ring, and Vera Soukupová’s rounded contralto makes her an excellent Radmila.

The male singers are more of a mixed bag. Karel Berman’s sonorous and dark bass is imposing throughout and Zdenek Kroupa, lighter and brighter, is intensely dramatic, but not free from strain. This is even more of a nuisance in the case of Ivo Zidek. Basically he has a fine tenor voice but he seems several numbers too small for this role and has to push for volume – the result is far from successful. Václav Bednár, a lyric baritone, sings rather beautifully, but not without some strain and unsteadiness. Jindrich Jindrák is worn and wobbly, though dramatically he is well inside the role.

As for alternative recordings there are, or have been, at least three others. Alois Klima conducted Prague Radio forces back in 1949 with the legendary Beno Blachut as Stahlav. Zdenek Kosler, like Krombholc with Prague National Theatre, set down his version in 1983, Gabriela Benackova singing the title role (1983) and in 1995 Oliver Dohnanyi, with the same forces and Eva Urbanova as the best known soloist, recorded it once again. I haven’t heard any of the rival versions but having known the present version for so long I can honestly say that it is easy to overlook the deficiencies and enjoy the work at large and the many fine contributions from many of the singers, in particular Nadežda Kniplová. In this new incarnation, at an affordable price and squeezed onto only two CDs, it is competitive. But what has the cover picture of a modern teenage girl have to do with mythology from the eighth century?

-- Göran Forsling, MusicWeb International

Classical Music

Includes work(s) for piano by Bedrich Smetana.

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

The Pavel Haas Quartet, of late, has been the focus of much hype and excitement, and I was curious to know what all the fuss is about. Having lived with and listened to these CDs several times over the past week, I now know. Quite simply, not to put too fine a point on it, this recording is a sensation. I was aware when I asked to review this, that it had garnered several rave reviews, and being a lover of both chamber music and Schubert’s in particular, I had great expectations. I’ve not been disappointed.

Founded in 2002, the quartet was named after Pavel Haas, a Czech composer and pupil of Leoš Janá?ek. Tragedy befell Haas; he spent his last days in the camp at Terezin, and died in Auschwitz in 1944. The Quartet has been the recipients of numerous awards and accolades, including the Gramophone Recording of the Year 2011 for a CD of Dvo?ák Quartets. It also has other fine recordings under its belt. There have been several personnel changes along the way before the current line-up. They have recorded all three of the Haas string quartets, pertinently coupling them with those of Janá?ek. I’ve already placed my order.

The pairing of these two works is a very intelligent one. Both are preoccupied with the notion of death and finality. The String Quartet in D minor, D 810 was composed in 1824, four years before Schubert’s death. It is entitled Death and the Maiden; the song of the same name (D 531) provides the theme for the second movement variations. The composer had already been suffering from syphilis for two years and that same year wrote: “Each night when I go to sleep, I hope never to wake again, and each morning serves only to recall the misery of the previous day." From the first declamatory chords of the opening movement you realize that the Pavel Haas mean business. I don’t think I’ve ever heard such a dramatic opening and you are literally kept on the edge of your seat for the rest of the movement. High-powered, passionate and thrilling are the adjectives which best describe this playing. The intense, underlying tension is contrasted with the fervent, heartfelt lyricism of the second subject. Throughout, these young players imbue the music with light and shade. It is not a cosy performance yet ensemble and intonation are faultless.

The dark theme of the second movement is haunting, funereal and filled with pathos - heartfelt and sincere. As the variations unfold, an eloquent dialogue between the individual instruments emerges. Each variation is thoughtfully nuanced and sensitively sculpted, with the players highlighting the dramatic contrasts between the variations. The third movement Scherzo is a rhythmic tour de force. The finale, marked Presto, is almost a tarantella, a dance to ward off the spider’s bite and thus flee from death, with the Pavel Haas conjuring up a musical exorcism. The dotted rhythmic patterns are crisply incisive and the movement is carried off with velocity and élan.

The String Quintet in C major was composed in 1828. This was the last year of Schubert’s short life and a prolifically fruitful year by any standards. During it he composed, amongst other things, the Mass in E flat, the last three Piano Sonatas, the F minor Fantasie for piano duet and this String Quintet. Benjamin Britten, no less, considered this year to be the most miraculous in the history of music. Danjulo Ishizaka is an excellent choice as second cello in the Quintet and blends into the ensemble well. Of German/Japanese origin, he was described by none other than Rostropovich as ‘phenomenal in his technical ability, perfect in his musical creative power’. He certainly brings these gifts to the performance of the Quintet.

I consider this work to be the most sublime piece of chamber music ever written, and the Pavel Haas enter a very crowded playing field, with many outstanding recordings. Some of my favourites that spring to mind are the Lindsays, the Belceas, the Alban Berg and not forgetting, the Hollywood’s 1951 account.

For me, the performance here ticks all the right boxes. From the opening chords, you feel that these young players are taking you on a journey. Having a clear vision and understanding of the structure of the music, they explore its full emotional range. Warmth and expressive phrasing are a distinguishing hallmark. The second movement, the emotional core, is well-paced. There is a tranquillity, an other-worldliness and a sense of resignation in the playing. They bring out the dark and anguished character of the dramatic section. Here one becomes aware of Schubert’s terror of approaching death. The Scherzo is imbued with gusto and energy, the trio, in contrast, being subdued. The finale is truly marked with a gypsy swagger.

Chamber music lovers, I am sure, will want these recordings, and I have no doubt that they will become benchmarks for these two glories of the chamber music repertoire. Recorded sound and balance is second to none; the Domovina Studio, Prague provides an ideal acoustic. Booklet notes by Vlasta Reiffererova supply the essential information. These young players are a force to be reckoned with, and the anticipation and enthusiasm they have earned with the listening public is here proved beyond doubt.

– Stephen Greenbank, MusicWeb International

JAKUB JAN RYBA: Jitka Sobehartova; Marie Mrazova; Vladimir Dolezal; Richard Novak; Cvorak Chamber ORchestra/Libor Pesek; Directed by Jan Bonaventura; NTSC All Region 4:3; Dolby digital Stereo; Color; Subtitled in Czech, English, German, French; Approx. 79 mins. JAKUB JAN RYBA: Czech Christmas Mass; Christmas Folk Songs: I. Christmas Songs from the Krkonose Region, II. Christmas Songs fromthe Hussite Era, III. Christmas Pastorale.

Mstislav Rostropovich, one of the greatest 20th-century cellists, studied composition with Dmitri Shostakovich. Their mutual respect soon grew into a close friendship and in 1959 Shostakovich dedicated his Cello Concerto No. 1 to Rostropovich, thus making the cellist’s long-time wish come true. Rostropovich learned the piece within a mere four days and duly played it by heart to the astonished composer. Two days after the premiere (4 October 1959 in Leningrad), Rostropovich performed the work in Moscow to an enthusiastic audience response. Our CD contains this version, the concerto’s oldest known recording. In 1960, the celebrated cellist and the Czech Philharmonic, under Kirill Kondrashin, presented the piece at the Prague Spring festival. Back in 1959, Rostropovich and Shostakovich recorded for Moscow Radio the Sonata for Cello and Piano in D minor, written by Shostakovich when he was twenty-eight years of age. The recording is a precious example of Shostakovich’s continuing piano skills at the time when he no longer gave public performances. The fruitful collaboration between the two artists and friends culminated seven years later in Cello Concerto No. 2, which was premiered by Rostropovich in Moscow on the day of Shostakovich’s 60th birthday. A Prague audience first heard the piece about a year later. These Supraphon discs feature the CD debut of the two Prague recordings.

Franz Xaver Richter’s origins are associated with Moravia, but his working life was anything but parochial. Skills acquired in Vienna and Italy raised his employability and saw him engaged in several palaces in Germany in the 1730s and 1740s. He is known to have travelled widely before becoming Kapellmeister of the Notre-Dame Cathedral in Strasbourg, dying just before the French Revolution saw the abolition of those ancient institutions in which he had worked for decades.

The mixture of styles in Richter’s work can be heard throughout this programme, from the Pergolesi-like opening of the Synfonia and use of orchestral sonorities from Mannheim to the operatic virtuosity of his vocal writing. Superb playing from the Czech Ensemble Baroque delivers a purity of sound which is pretty much the ideal for our idea of how this music should have sounded in the 18th century – it would certainly he hard to imagine the composer having much to complain about.

The Synfonia con fuga is assumed to come from Richter’s time in Mannheim, and as a ‘church sinfonia’ in everything but name its inclusion here suits very well indeed. The work is more than just a filler, with its vibrant inventiveness and colourful sequences it goes beyond galant frippery while stopping short of C.P.E. Bach’s striking waywardness.

Both De Profundis and the Messa de Requiem are from Richter’s 20-year tenure in Strasbourg, and both works are highly representative of the opulence possible during one of the most significant periods in the cities history. His church ensemble was at that time the second largest in France, and the richness in sound from these works is very fine indeed. Psalm 129, De Profundis clamavi was commissioned for funeral masses, and the symbolism of its C minor key of mourning, resolving finally into a more hopeful C major in the final Requiem aeternam are just two elements in an impressive and often highly expressive work.

The Messa de Requiem was reportedly composed for the composer’s own funeral, and the booklet notes open with a quote from Christian Friedrich Schubart, describing how Richter passed away with the score in his hand. This may or may not be true, but we can hardly disagree with the claim that it “encapsulates the quintessence of his legacy.” With added trumpets and timpani this is the kind of larger scale requiem which it is not hard to imagine in a line leading towards the grand examples by the likes of Verdi. Set pieces such as the operatic soprano solo Quid sum miser and dramatic Confutatis maledictis of the Dies irae are innovative sounding in this context, and the work’s transitional feel is heightened by their contrast with more antique contrapuntal music which Richter took from Johann Joseph Fux much earlier in his career and held onto throughout.

This is a substantial Requiem, and within its high-Classical idiom has plenty of heartfelt and beautifully poignant moments. The power of the work is rendered with the utmost refinement and musicality by all concerned, with all soloists very strong, and soprano Lenka Cafourková ?uricová deserving of mention as the topping to a very unified and superbly balanced musical cake. Supraphon has made this into nicely presented release, the booklet containing all Latin texts and translations into English, German, French and Czech. If seeking beyond the more familiar choral music of Haydn and Mozart results in unearthing these kinds of glories I for one would welcome digging ever deeper into the archives of the obscure and unpublished.

-- Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International

Antonin Rejcha Guarneri Trio Prague Antonin Rejcha: Piano Trios

Classical Music

Recordings from 1973-1982 in newly remastered sound.

Czech Philharmonic Orchestra, conductor: Zden?k Košler

Sergei Prokofiev’s seven symphonies reflect all the stylistic transformations along his artistic path – from a “modernist”, whose works echo the headlong development of music in the first two decades of the 20th century, to the mature creator of Symphony No. 7 (1951/52), characterised by melodiousness and freedom of expression. While the Scythian Suite, with its harshly “barbarian” aggressiveness, is the work of a young innovator, the simple Haydn-like melody treatment and lucid texture of the First Symphony, which the twenty-five-year-old Prokofiev referred to as "Classical", made it perhaps his most frequently performed work, one that anticipated the neo-Classical trend in modern music. Despite Prokofiev’s endeavour to create new “great music” devoid of complexity and accessible to the people, his later compositions were constantly fiercely criticised for being “formalist”.

Zden?k Košler drew attention to his artistry by winning globally prestigious competitions (Besançon, New York), as well as by assisting Leonard Bernstein at the New York Philharmonic. His Prokofiev with the Czech Philharmonic is one of the very first complete recordings of the composer’s symphonic works. - Supraphon