Composer: Bedřich Smetana
Works: Má Vlast (My Country), Vyšehrad, Vltava (The Moldau), Šárka, Z českých luhů a hájů, Tábor, Blaník
Performers: Czech Philharmonic Orchestra, cond. Rafael Kubelík
Recording: Recorded live at the opening concert of the Prague Spring Festival at the Smetana Hall of the Council House, Prague on 12 May 1990
Label: Supraphon
Bedřich Smetana’s Má Vlast stands as a monumental testament to the Czech national spirit, composed during a time when the Bohemian identity was still grappling with the ramifications of Austro-Hungarian rule. This cycle of six symphonic poems, completed between 1874 and 1879, not only embodies Smetana’s personal and nationalistic fervor but also illustrates his innovative orchestration and thematic development. It is within this rich tapestry that the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra under Rafael Kubelík delivers a performance with profound historical resonance, marking both Kubelík’s triumphant return to his homeland after decades of exile and a significant moment in the revival of Czech music on the global stage.
The interpretation by Kubelík is particularly noteworthy for its nuanced understanding of Smetana’s emotional landscape. Each of the symphonic poems is imbued with a sense of spontaneity and fervor that reflects the live concert setting, which often allows for a more organic interplay between the orchestra and conductor. For instance, in Vltava, the flowing theme that evokes the river’s journey is rendered with a delicate touch, allowing the music to breathe. The conductor’s choices in tempo and dynamics are masterful; the transition from the serene moonlit scenes to the more tumultuous sections is executed with a deftness that speaks to a deep interpretative insight. This contrasts with some studio recordings, where such elements can occasionally feel overly polished or restrained.
The technical prowess of the Czech Philharmonic is on full display throughout the performance. From the rich, full-bodied strings to the glittering woodwinds, the orchestra exhibits a color palette that Smetana himself would have cherished. The opening of Vyšehrad, with its dark, brooding introduction, contrasts sharply with the exuberance found in Blaník, where the patriotic fervor emerges without falling into bombast. Each section of the orchestra demonstrates remarkable cohesion and commitment, highlighted by individual solos that are characteristically vibrant and expressive, such as the poignant horn melody in Šárka that captures the tragic essence of the tale.
However, the recording’s sound quality does present certain challenges. While the digital remastering of this live performance captures much of the excitement of the occasion, it occasionally lacks the warmth and depth that one might expect from a studio recording. There are moments, particularly in the quieter passages of Vltava, where audience noise—coughing and shuffling—intrudes upon the musical detail, detracting from the immersive experience. Additionally, the applause that follows each movement, while a testament to the audience’s appreciation, feels somewhat intrusive, particularly after the emotional intensity of Tábor.
This interpretation of Má Vlast is distinguished not merely for its historical significance but for its ability to convey the essence of Smetana’s vision. While it may not eclipse all previous recordings—such as the acclaimed performances by Charles Mackerras or Václav Talich—it stands as a unique document of a pivotal moment in Czech musical history. The performance is compelling enough that it warrants a place in any serious collector’s library, not just as a representation of Smetana’s work but as a celebration of a cultural awakening. The engagement of the Czech Philharmonic under Kubelík’s baton is a powerful reminder of the enduring spirit of Má Vlast, making this recording an indispensable addition to the canon of Czech music.
