A previous disc containing
music by Bodorová impressed me
greatly, while inspiring my colleague
Rob Barnett to nominate it as a Recording
of the Month (Arcodiva
UP0052-2: Terezin Ghetto Requiem
for baritone and string quartet,Concierto
de Estio for guitar and string quartet).
The promise that disc
showed is confirmed in no uncertain
fashion by Bodorová’s oratorio
on Judas Maccabeus. It is a remarkable
piece, visceral in effect (make no mistake,
it will reverberate in your consciousness
long after you have heard it), yet with
a strong sense of structure that make
it suitable for repeated listening.
Bodorová chose
texts from the New Czech Ecumenical
translation (1985) of the Bible, except
for one section in the old Czech of
the Kralická Bible and some twentieth-century
texts for Judas’ Dream and ‘Orgies on
the Temple’.
The ‘story’ concentrates
on the Priest Mattathias’s rejection
of Hellenized worship and his call on
all Jews to rebel – his son, Judas Maccabeus,
leads the battle for religious freedom.
Bodorová’s work is a varied tapestry
of some seventeen sections, powerful
in effect (and indeed in its use of
effects) yet of sufficient depth to
repay repeated listening. There is no
doubting that Bodorová knows
how to write for a specific occasion
– it was commissioned by the Prague
Spring International Music Festival
and therefore, presumably, with the
specific acoustics of St Vitus in mind
(try the effective use of echo in the
narration that ends the fifth movement,
for example).
The opening of the
work, with its timpani calls-to-arms,
its distorted brass fanfares which use
the spatial field to great effect (reminiscent
of the framing movements of Janáček’s
Sinfonietta) and its anguished
harmonies, sets the scene. The final
and sudden arrival on a tonal triad
is an effective stroke.
Father Mattathias (presumably
Ivan Kusnjer, given the voice-range)
intones a sequence of wordless melismas
before the choir intones the text. This
is devotional music in a modernist context
which in time takes on a decidedly Stravinskian
tinge. The doubling of plainchant line
by horns (around 2’35, track 2) is a
memorable effect. Prokofiev’s influence
can be heard, also – try the seventh
movement, a battle scene (‘Antochius
dobývá Jerusalém’’
‘Antochius Conquers Jerusalem’) and
the immediately ensuing ‘Oplakávání’
(‘Mourning’) that seem to make overt
reference to parallel points in Alexander
Nevsky.
It is a measure of
Bodorová’s talent that she can
refer to so many styles within one work
yet nevertheless remain coherent. The
unashamedly Romantic strings of the
third movement (‘Jeruzalém’)
come as something of a shock, but it
is in essence part of a rich tapestry,
here functioning as a lush background
for Aleš Briscein’s plaintive tenor.
Possibly the biggest shock comes in
the form of the ninth movement, ‘Orgie
v chrámu’ (‘Orgies in the Temple’),
where ‘Dionsysos’ is chanted as it might
be in a football stadium (try substituting
‘Arsenal’ in your imagination – it almost
fits), with an accompanying rhythmic
(and enthusiastic) clapping more appropriate
for a gathering of ‘happy-clappys’.
All this set against a repeated and
determinedly unsettling shouted question,
‘Kde je náš Bůh?’ (‘Where
is our God?’).
It is only in the overtly
filmic twelfth movement (‘Cesta odhodlání’;
‘Path of courage’) that Bodorová
gives the impression that in being so
pictorial she is trying to manipulate
the listener’s feelings, rather than
make an effective expressive statement
in her own right. Even then, the shouts
of ‘Zabijte všechny’ (‘Kill all’) make
a strong impression.
Bodorová’s Juda
Maccabeus is a strong, thought-provoking
and important musical statement that
deserves, maybe even demands, to be
heard.
Colin Clarke
The
Complete Arcodiva Catalogue is available
from MusicWeb
Prague Radio Symphony Orchestra/Vladimír
Válek, Stanislav Bogunia (second conductor).
for
details