Jaroslav Krombholc
- An Anniversary Remembrance
by
Alan Watkins
On July 16 1983, at
the comparatively early age of 65, there
passed away one of the greatest musicians
it has ever been my privilege to play
for.
Jaroslav Krombholc
passed away after a long battle against
ill-health which had gone on for some
years. Although perhaps not an international
conductor in the sense in which the
words are understood today, I believe
he made a major contribution not only
to Czech music-making but, in his various
appearances
abroad, was an early international protagonist
for Czech composers, Janáček in
particular. He was, I think, an exceptional
interpreter of opera but his musical
interests were wide and far-ranging
and he was as enthusiastic about Ravel,
Shostakovich, Debussy as he was
for Czech native composers. He loved
Three Little Liturgies by Messiaen,
as but one example. I recall a performance
of La Mer which I thought to be truly
exceptional, the conductor stating that
he had studied the score for three years
before giving his first performance
of the work in 1940 something.
He served many orchestras
in the Czech Republic, Ostrava, both
houses in Prague, and the Radio Orchestra.
A pupil of Vaclav Talich, whom he revered,
he nonetheless was a distinctive musical
personality and towards the end of his
life prepared his own performing edition
of Ma Vlast which he used on his 1973
recording of the piece, an exceptional
account in my opinion, restoring many
of the balances and dynamics which had
been altered through subsequent editions
and performance practice. It is an account
filled, in my opinion, with both nobility,
elegance and drama in proportionate
measure.
I recall his attention
to detail in this work. The horn call
to the warring maidens in Movement III
Sarka was, he said, often too loud -
he pointed out to the orchestra that
if one consulted the text of the original
"story" the call was heard from "afar
off" across the valley. And so it is
on his performance.
He was, in his time,
also a noted interpreter of Czech contemporary
music in particular that of Seidl and
Dobias but many composers in the period
from about 1938 onwards were grateful
for his study and advocacy.
As a person he was
much loved by his musicians. Always
polite, he never raised his voice even
once in my experience yet I believe
sometimes achieved great performances.
He was a musician for whom people really
wished to play as well as they could,
I believe. Rehearsals and performances
with him were occasions one looked forward
to. His operatic performances were a
genuine "co-operative" attempt between
his vocalists and the orchestra: he
never intervened as the "star" performer
as perhaps may happen from time to time.
It was the end result which counted.
If we were really bad at rehearsal he
would take his glasses off, lay them
down on the conductor rostrum, and then
address us. That was serious stuff but
only if he took his glasses off!
Perhaps I may interpolate
a slightly funny story: how conductors
interpret audience applause varies from
conductor to conductor in my experience.
Some milk it for all it is worth (and
why not!) with sweeping bows so low
you wonder if they may be at risk of
toppling over. Not Mr K. When he came
out they got one quick nod, with a smile,
and then he turned immediately to the
orchestra and you were in......there
is preserved a wonderful example of
this in his magnificent performance
of Jenufa in Vienna in 1974.
There is tremendous
applause when he comes out for Act II
(remember they'd only heard Act I) and
there are still a few claps going on
when the orchestra blast their way into
the wonderful beginning of Act II. He
obviously did not behave any differently
abroad. They just got that quick nod!
Unfortunately his health
deteriorated to such an extent that
he had to give up conducting and just
a few weeks before his death his wife
attended a performance of Vixen at the
National Theatre, coming backstage afterwards
to send his "best wishes" to the orchestra.
Naturally there were many inquiries
about his health and his wife, clearly
distressed, remarked: "I fear for him.
If you take his music away, he has nothing
left......"
He was honoured with
a documentary on Prague Radio/TV in
the 1970s and the interviewer asked
him: "How would you wish to be remembered?"
He said, rather thrown by the question
I thought: "Well, just as an interpreter
who has brought music to the public
but I hope I would also be remembered
by my musicians for without them I probably
might not have amounted to much. I can
only suggest: it is they who interpret
my suggestions. I have tried to make
it a partnership and I would hope I
have been successful. My admiration
for our players remains undiminished."
I think he is, and
was, remembered by his musicians. On
the day of his funeral so many wished
to attend that both the matinee performances
at the National Theatre and the State
Opera were cancelled. It is also pleasing
to me that, although not a "star" name,
at least some of his performances can
be remembered and enjoyed through his
recordings.
In remembrance Jaroslav
Krombholc, musician, born Prague January
30 1918, died in that city July 16 1983.
RIP
Alan M. Watkins
