Janáček: Lachian Dances
Dvořák: Suite in A major
Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra / David Zinman
Recorded January 29, 1984, Hochstein Auditorium, Rochester, New York
APEX 7559 79677 2 [47:30]
David Zinman’s name conjures reliability—solid musicianship, transparent textures, and a conductor who neither overreaches nor underwhelms. This Apex reissue, pairing Leoš Janáček’s Lachian Dances with Antonín Dvořák’s Suite in A major, offers a curious but ultimately rewarding coupling, with the Rochester Philharmonic orchestra providing the sinew and flesh to these Bohemian-inflected dances. The release dates back to the mid-80s, and the sound is serviceable rather than sumptuous—clean, yes, but lacking the kind of sheen that might elevate the music’s rustic charm to something more luminous.
Still, it’s a forthright document, and the balance between orchestra and hall space is; well judged; details emerge with clarity, never lost behind a veil of reverb or muddiness. Janáček’s Lachian Dances, composed in 1883, reveal the composer’s youthful flirtation with the nineteenth-century dance idiom, lush with folk contours but not yet touched by the modernist edge he would later wield with such distinctiveness. Here, one hears a Janáček very much of his time—parallel to Dvořák’s Slavonic dances,; as noted, but less polished, more raw perhaps, and certainly less sophisticated in harmonic daring.
Zinman’s reading captures this simplicity with a lilting rhythm that avoids mechanical rigidity. The orchestra plays with a sprightly character, which is vital for music that thrives on conviviality and folksy spontaneity. The articulation is crisp, the string bowing light and buoyant, conjuring a gust of fresh country air.
The slower movements, in particular, benefit from Zinman’s beguiling phrasing; melodic lines are shaped with an ease that invites the ear to linger on each turn and cadence, highlighting Janáček’s melodic contours without forcing undue gravitas. Turning to Dvořák’s Suite in A major, one encounters a different facet of Czech nationalism—more polished, more urbane, yet no less heartfelt. This suite, lesser-known compared to his symphonies or the American Quartet, was originally a piano work later orchestrated by Dvořák himself, though curiously it did not receive realization during his lifetime.
The first public outing in 1910 offers insight into the composer’s late tonal world, suffused with a kind of pastoral radiance. Zinman’s approach here is judicious—phrasing is poised, and the rhythmic vitality sparkles without ever tipping into manic exuberance. The woodwinds sing with a tender warmth, the horns muted and lyrical; the strings glide, never overwrought.
The suite’s thematic material—though not as immediately iconic as, say, the themes from Slavonic Dances—possesses an ingratiating freshness. One senses the American influence subtly filtered through a distinctly Bohemian lens; the rhythms hint at the folk dances Dvořák admired, but the harmonic language remains firmly rooted in his European homeland. Zinman’s tempi strike a fine balance—brisk enough to maintain momentum, relaxed enough to luxuriate in the melodic lines.
Here, the company’s tone shines best: the Rochester players respond with a polished; ensemble sound, a little less rustic than the Janáček, but no less expressive. Yet, despite the evident care in performance and the inherent charm of the music, the disc’s brevity is a thorn. At just under 48 minutes, it feels slight—almost like an appetizer rather than a full course.
One wishes Apex had complemented this pairing with additional repertoire—perhaps more Janáček dances or Dvořák’s other American works—to flesh out the program and offer a broader context. In sum, this reissue stands as a respectable, if modest, document of two Czech composers occupying different points along the nationalist spectrum. Zinman, ever the dependable guide, coaxed performances that respect the idioms and character of these dances without overstating their significance.
The director’s presence feels palpable even in this studio setting.
The Lachian Dances remind us of Janáček’s roots before his mature language crystallized; the; Suite in A major showcases Dvořák’s melodic grace and rhythmic verve during his American sojourn. Not essential, perhaps, but rewarding nonetheless for those curious about the quieter corners of Czech orchestral repertoire and — well — Zinman’s steady hand.
