This is a set that no one who cares about Dvorák’s symphonies can afford to ignore. These performances really do belong in every serious collection.

Supraphon has finally released Václav Neumann’s 1970s Dvorák symphony cycle, and what a wonderful event it is. These performances are, on the whole, fresher and freer than his digital remakes, fine though those are, and more warmly recorded. The only exception is the somewhat shrill engineering in the First Symphony, but in general the sonics are comparable to other cycles of the period—Kertész, Kubelik, and Rowicki—and this is unquestionably the best played of them all. It’s difficult to overestimate the value of having the Czech Philharmonic in top form in this music, but the sound of the ensemble really does speak for itself. Kubelik’s Berlin Philharmonic might have the best strings, and the London Symphony for Kertész and Rowicki the boldest horns, but the Czech Philharmonic has the best ensemble, top to bottom, at least in Dvorák.

Consider one example: the climax of the first movement of the Seventh Symphony, a work that shows both the orchestra and Neumann at their very best. If you imprinted on this performance, nothing else can match it in power and intensity. The passionate lyricism of the strings, the thrilling low timpani roll that propels the trombones’ upward arpeggio, and those bright, sforzando trumpets combine to make an unforgettable impression (sound clip below), and it’s all exactly as Dvorák wrote it. Interestingly, where Neumann deviates from the printed page, as in the main theme’s fortissimo counterstatement in the first movement, or in the work’s concluding chorale, he gives the doubling parts to the trumpets rather than the horns, as in most other performances, and this too proves the better decision.

This brings us to Neumann’s own contribution. Traditionally he has gotten short shrift compared to the competition. Some of this was politics. In the 1960s and ’70s the British naturally preferred anything featuring the LSO, and Kubelik was a symbol of democratic resistance to Communist rule. He also had the superb Berlin Philharmonic at his disposal, rather than his usual Bavarian Radio forces, and Deutsche Grammophon behind him. Neumann, on LP at least, was spottily available on generally horrible pressings, and he had the disadvantage to be taking over from Ancerl, an indisputably great conductor who wound up on the right side of Cold War politics. Then Neumann remade all the symphonies in digital sound, a set that Supraphon promoted intensely, and this earlier effort simply disappeared from sight.

In general, Neumann’s approach might sound a touch “old fashioned”—quick movements move at moderate speeds, slow movements flow without ever dragging. Although not quite so slow in the allegros, conductors like Otto Klemperer come to mind. And yet, Neumann is by no means lacking in energy. His Eighth Symphony is as fresh (and swift) as any in the catalog. He whips up quite a frenzy in the finale of the Fifth, and this Third Symphony might just be the best on disc. Its first movement is as energetic as can be, the central funeral march is gorgeous and never stiff, while the finale actually sounds less mechanical at this moderate speed than it does when taken more quickly. The Sixth seldom has been paced more naturally, and as Dvorák fans all know, Ancerl’s benchmark performance is a tough act to follow. Neumann has nothing to fear from the comparison, especially in the coda of the finale, which is stunning.

Neumann always did well by the “New World” Symphony, and in only a few spots in the first two symphonies does Neumann sound less than fully engaged (though in the former, he’s still more effective than in his digital remake). The third movement of the Second, particularly, needs to be crisper. Suitner on Berlin Classics is unmatched here. For the most part, though, Neumann’s performances have held up extremely well. In particular, he offers an object lesson in phrasing and, especially, the correct use of legato in lyrical passages. So many performances today, perhaps encouraged by the perpetual staccato of the early music movement, break up Dvorák’s melodies into fragments, whereas Neumann conducts in whole paragraphs.

The couplings add greatly to this set’s attractions. They are uniformly excellent. The Symphonic Variations overflows with character; the three concert overtures belong together (they share a theme, heard at the outset of In Nature’s Realm), and these versions of the four late symphonic poems rank with the best available. They are also very well recorded. So to summarize, this is a set that no one who cares about Dvorák’s symphonies can afford to ignore. Even if you have the versions just mentioned, these performances really do belong in every serious collection.

-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Classical Music

Classical Music

Includes work(s) by various composers. Ensemble: Czech Philharmonic Orchestra. Conductor: Karel Ancerl.

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

MARTIN? The Epic of Gilgamesh • Ji?i B?lohlávek, cond; Marcela Machotková ( A Woman ); Ji?í Zahradni?ek ( Enkidu/Hunter ); Václav Zitek ( Gilgamesh ); Karel Pr?sa ( Narrator/Hunter’s Father/Spirit of Enkidu ); Otakar Brousek ( Speaker ); Prague SO • SUPRAPHON 3918 (59:50 Text and Translation)


Martin?’s major vocal compositions, operas and oratorios, had a way of confounding expectations. The Epic of Gilgamesh , completed in 1955, was in many ways the exact opposite of a work composed around the same time, Mirandolina . While the latter was a typical Goldoni comedy of situation, the former was a work that considered timeless verities of the human condition: the nature of friendship and death. Recitative sufficed for Mirandolina , but Gilgamesh , with its mix of modally based orchestral themes, long-spanned rhythmic ostinatos, and phrases chanted by a bass soloist on a single note, sounds at times like a Martin? transmutation of Eastern Orthodox sacred services. It is a powerful work, deftly drawing upon three sections from the neo-Assyrian redaction of this sprawling and fragmentary religious cycle. From the expansive vision of creation, youth, and energy in the first section, “Gilgamesh,” it turns with restraint to the pathos of “The Death of Enkidu,” then to the alternately forceful and chill ritualistic summons and questioning of Enkidu’s spirit in “Invocation.”


I know of two currently available versions of The Epic of Gilgamesh . Both have been in circulation before. The one that features Zdenek Kosler leading the forces of the Slovak Philharmonic, now on Naxos 8.555138, originally appeared on Marco Polo back in the early 1990s. The one under review is a reissue from 1976. Of the two, Kosler is faster and, I find, a bit less atmospheric than B?lohlávek. There is sometimes a sense of impatience in Kosler’s reading, especially in the “Invocation” movement, as though he found some of the pages less successful than others. I would agree with this, but only if those pages are rushed. Taken in context as B?lohlávek does, the entire oratorio has an overwhelming effect. He is helped by the Prague SO, which is a fresher sounding, better-blended orchestra than the Slovak Philharmonic.


Among the singers, Ji?í Zahradní?ek’s dry, hard-sounding timbre makes him a less attractive Enkidu than Stefan Margita (Kosler). I have a slight preference for Marcela Machotková over Eva Depoltová (Kosler), given the narrow vibrato and refined dynamics of the former. Depoltová sings well, but with less attention to the words. Milan Karpisek (Kosler) offers a more riveting speaker than Otakar Brousek. Elsewhere, the performers are roughly even. Naxos balances its recording well, chorus supporting the orchestra, soloists a bit in front of both. Supraphon’s analog sound is also quite good, with the orchestra richer, and the speaker unfortunately superimposed upon the proceedings in a fashion that recalls voice-overs. Supraphon’s resonance seems to me more appropriate for this piece than that of Naxos, which dulls the musical edge slightly through too large a hall sound.


In short, the choice is yours. Both versions are good, though I’d give the nod to the more thoughtful B?lohlávek.


FANFARE: Barry Brenesal

Classical Music

The soft, silvery tone of the harp and the rich, dark timbres of the viola make these instruments the ideal combination for playing a gentle night song or lullaby. Chanson dans la nuit is a meditation amid the quiet of the night... Yet Jitka Hosprová and Kateřina Englichová are also able to make the night dance with their instruments. The listener can savour almost an hour's worth of enchanting music for the viola and harp ranging from the Baroque masters to the French Impressionists. It is hard to believe that La fille aux cheveux de lin or Ravel’s Pavane were not originally created for these very instruments and that they can be played otherwise. The programme was compiled for the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra's enormously popular "For Mothers-To-Be" concert cycle. It makes a refreshing change to hear the bright sound of the violin replaced by the deeper colours of the viola, the brilliancy of the piano by the lambent tones of the harp, especially when the two instruments are in the hands of two such charming ladies and superlative musicians.

Classical Music

Over 20,000 discs sold, more than 220 concerts at home and abroad, two extensive tours... + Those are just a few examples of the successes gained by the Gipsy Way project in the wake of the 2008 album Pavel Šporcl recorded with his Gipsy band. + Six years later, in tandem with Supraphon, the violinist held two concerts at Prague’s legendary Domovina Studio, whose fruit is the new CD, Gipsy Fire. + On this new release a succession of technically challenging “Gipsy” repertoire pieces are blended with catchy and melancholic film melodies (Grand blond avec une chaussure noire and Fiddler on the Roof, and a theme Pavel recorded for the Czech movie Divided We Fall) and Piazzolla’s breathtakingly beautiful prayer Ave Maria. + Pavel and the Gipsy Way Ensemble play as if their very lives are in the balance; the audience’s frenzied response indicates that they don’t want the music to ever stop.

Classical Music

Martinu composed Ariane in a record time of one month, in the summer of 1958. The Greek myth of Ariadne, the daughter of Minos, King of Crete, who helps Theseus slay the minotaur, has been set to music by a number of renowned composers. Martinu based his libretto off Georges Neveux's drama Le Voyage de Thesee. Alongside the opera, this release features the Double Concerto, a work representing the apex of the composer's French period and written amidst dramatic circumstances at the time throughout Europe.

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

The Belfiato Quintet are yet another exciting Czech chamber ensemble active in the international arena. The members of the young wind quintet perform with renowned orchestras and both as individuals and collectively hav egarnered accolades at competitions. This acclaim, however, has not gone to their heads, with their performances above all revealing their attitude: ''We enjoy it!'' The debut studio album, which they hvae recorded 12 years after the ensemble's foundation, exclusively features Czech music dating from the first half of the 20th century. J.B. Foerster composed the Wind Quintet in 1909 to commission for a virtuoso ensemble, formed by the members of the Wiener Philharmoniker. The work by Janáček's pupil Pavel Haas, written two decades later, bears traces of inspiration by folk music, Janáček, as well as Stravinsky. When listening to the piece, it is difficult indeed to resign oneself to the chilling fact that this immense young talent was silenced for ever at Auschwitz. Leos Janáček had created his wind sextet Youth just five years previously. Owing to the music teeming with joie de vivre, prevailing over languor and melancholia, one is hard pressed to believe that the artist was 70 years of age when he composed it.

Classical Music

Classical Music

Ilja Hurník’s highly acclaimed recordings of Debussy and Ravel are released here for the first time on CD in a carefully remastered version. When listening to these recordings one will indeed be hard pressed to believe that they were made a full half-century ago. Hurník’s ninetieth birthday is an appropriate opportunity to recall them.

All tracks have been digitally mastered using 24-bit technology.

Musica Bohemica are celebrating their 40th anniversary, which is a fitting occasion to look back. The very first recording the ensemble made for Supraphon, the LP Drevo se hudbou od�v� (Wood Attired in Music), released back in 1979, features several forcible folk texts (Vandrovali hudci, Horelo srd�cko, etc.), to which the artistic director, Jaroslav Krcek, composed music with such sensitivity that many a listener still considers it folk tunes. The next Musica Bohemica album, Cesk� a moravsk� lidov� balady (Czech and Moravian Folk Ballads), includes traditional melodies in Krcek's arrangements, imbued with his singular signature and colourful instrumentation. Jaroslav Krcek also proved to be sure-footed when selecting the soloists; one would be hard pressed indeed to imagine better delivery. The anniversary album features pieces selected from the two early recordings, with some of them being released on CD for the very first time. The songs that have enchanted generations of Musica Bohemica listeners now come across in their full beauty. Musica Bohemica's anniversary commemorated with early recordings - a spell that does not wear off.