The account of Fibich’s first symphony that
has been generally the best regarded was set down as long ago as February
1950. The performers were the Czech Philharmonic under its then chief
conductor, Karel Sejna. The recording is still available as part of
their two-disc traversal of the composer’s three symphonies (
Supraphon
SU 3618-2).
Listening to that recording today, it is obvious why it has, in almost
all respects, stood the test of time. In spite of the vicissitudes of
the second world war - not least the purging of its Jewish players -
the 1950 Czech Philharmonic was still distinctive. Its style and standards
were still recognisably those of the orchestra of Václav Talich,
their chief conductor 1919-1931 and 1933-1941, who had established them
firmly on the world’s musical map. The pleasurable task of listening
to some of their
pre-war
recordings - still widely available thanks to the Naxos Historical
label- confirms that essential musical continuity.
Moreover, in performing this music the orchestra was very much on its
own home turf. Musicologists - “who can read music but can’t
hear it” - Sir Thomas Beecham - may claim that Fibich was more
cosmopolitan in outlook than his more “nationalist” contemporaries
Dvořák and Smetana. However, to my ears, at least, the opening
movement of this F major symphony is pretty well indistinguishable from
something by the
New World’s composer in full lyrical flow.
The conductor is the third element in the 1950 account’s success.
Karel Sejna (1896-1982) was a stalwart of a national musical life which
was much more intense and inward-looking than we are used to today.
It may be hard to believe, for example, that in the 1920s there actually
was such a thing as a Czechoslovak Railway Workers Symphony Orchestra,
but there was - and Sejna was its conductor. Virtually all of his training
and career took place in his homeland, a fact reflected in the huge
degree of authenticity he brings to his recordings of Czech music.
The 1950s Eastern European technology means, though, that this enjoyable
and thoroughly idiomatic account of Fibich’s first symphony understandably
shows its age. As well as having been recorded in mono, the overall
sound is rather opaque and many of the score’s delightful inner
felicities are thereby somewhat obscured. My own copy, in spite of boasting
that it has been “24 bit digitally re-mastered”, even boasts
a faint but immensely annoying pre-echo on one of its filler tracks:
the attractive
A springtime tale for soprano, bass, choir and
orchestra.
Such sonic deficiencies were certainly not in evidence in January 1993
when Neeme Järvi recorded a new DDD account of the first symphony
with the Detroit Symphony Orchestra (CHAN 9230, with the second and
third symphonies following a year later on
CHAN
9328). While that was certainly a competent and welcome addition
to the rather thin Fibich symphonic discography, it also lacked its
Czech predecessor’s sheer character. As a typically cosmopolitan
late 20
th century conductor, Järvi inevitably failed
to match Sejna’s intuitive grasp of the native Czech musical idiom.
Moreover, the playing of the Detroit orchestra, very fine as it was,
offers a useful illustration of the erosion of distinctively national
orchestral characteristics that occurred as the world became more open
in the late 20
th century. While individual players furthering
their careers in a worldwide free market no doubt found that to be a
positive development, it is undeniable that it also helped create some
blandly anonymous orchestras displaying few individual or “national”
characteristics. While that may have been, in certain aspects, a good
thing - although I, for one, have a soft spot for braying Soviet brass
sections (me too. Ed.), in many others the baby has certainly been thrown
out with the bathwater.
The orchestra featured on this new Naxos recording, the Czech National
Symphony Orchestra, did not even exist until after the fall of the Iron
Curtain and is, moreover, often used in recording film scores and other
non-classical work. The conductor,
Marek
Štilec, was only 26 years old when he led this performance.
With a 21
st century musical training and background and a
personal inclination towards contemporary scores, he might well be expected
to have a broader and less “nationalistic” outlook than
someone of Sejna’s generation. As a result, I was not expecting
much innate empathy with Fibich’s music from either orchestra
or conductor.
I could not, however, have been more wrong. Štilec and his band
play here with a hugely attractive “rustic” tone that is
entirely appropriate to these scores and that entirely escapes Järvi’s
Detroit orchestra. In that respect, the cover pictures of the respective
discs are very apt: Chandos depict an urban image of Prague’s
beautiful Charles Bridge while Naxos has chosen an idealised representation
of the Czech countryside. Fibich’s father had been a forester
and the young composer had spent much of his childhood in a remote lodge
deep in the Czech countryside at VŠebořice. In spite of the
occasional dramatic flourish that never amounts to much, the symphony’s
opening movement is essentially bucolic in character. Within just a
few moments, the CNSO’s deliciously fruity woodwinds have transported
us magically away into the Bohemian countryside. By the time the memorably
lyrical second subject comes along (2:06) I was hooked in a way that
Järvi’s account had never managed to achieve in its two decades
on my shelves.
Štilec’s account is altogether lighter and more airy than
that of his rivals, fully in keeping with the emphasis he places on
the score’s pastoral elements. His is also an appropriately gentler
and more relaxed approach, with an overall timing of 36:45 that comfortably
exceeds both Järvi’s (34:13) and Sejna’s (30:05). Thankfully
the engineering team of Václav Roubal and Karek Soukeník
has done a superb job of keeping the sound crystal clear - though my
more critical colleague Nick Barnard describes it as having a “clinical
glare” - so that all the woodland rustlings and flutterings that
Štilec so carefully teases out can be fully appreciated.
The coupling on the Naxos disc, the op.54
Impressions from the countryside,
gives Fibich full rein for his romanticism and is in this context an
entirely apt one. It is equally well played. It is a shame, though,
that, with a total disc time of just 62:18, the opportunity to add another
track was missed.
This is apparently the first disc of a series of eight that will include
all Fibich’s orchestral scores recorded by the same forces and
that will appear over the next few years. I suspect we may well be in
for a few musical revelations in that time and certainly look forward
to hearing the next instalment from these intriguing and talented new
performers.
Rob Maynard
