Julietta has been recorded 
                very seldom. There was a cut version 
                with Charles Bruck conducting in 1962 
                (on Chant du Monde but no longer available) 
                but only the Supraphon from 1964 has 
                stayed the course. One says "only" 
                but of course this Krombholc-led performance 
                is one of the greatest Martinů 
                recordings ever made.[review] 
                One is tempted to fly kites and proclaim 
                it simply the very greatest but let’s 
                not get sidetracked. Julietta is the 
                composer’s operatic masterpiece and 
                a work central to his canon. Listening 
                again to Krombholc one understands the 
                dilemma; it’s not an easy work 
                to stage and a good stage run would 
                be vital for a successful recording 
                – I had hopes that something might come 
                of the most recent British production 
                but apart from a BBC broadcast nothing 
                did. But Krombholc and his unrivalled 
                cast are incomparable. Every voice is 
                characterful and individualist and the 
                recording team gave the orchestra of 
                the National Theatre a vivid immediacy 
                that meant that their contribution was 
                as visceral as it must be. If you can’t 
                hear the band in Julietta you might 
                as well go home. 
              
 
              
I won’t say you can’t 
                hear the band in this new recording 
                – it’s not true – but you might have 
                inferred from everything I’ve said so 
                far that this newcomer won’t detain 
                you for too long. And that’s a pity 
                because we need new Juliettas, new life 
                and new blood for this work. It’s not 
                simply an easily dusted down piece of 
                French surrealism refracted through 
                Martinů’s 
                romantic longings.  
              
 
              
Let’s get the recording 
                into perspective. It’s a Bregenz production 
                – and full marks to them for putting 
                it on – and recorded complete in 2002. 
                The cast is international and they sing 
                in German, a perfectly sensible thing 
                to do, though on disc one loses first 
                syllabic stress and important hard consonants. 
                But if you can take Osud in English 
                you may well be able to take Julietta 
                (Germans and Austrians retain the French 
                form Juliette) in German. 
              
 
              
I’m going to confine 
                my comments to the First Act, which 
                is something I never do normally but 
                which is justified here because Michel, 
                Julietta and the most important characters 
                are introduced here and there is so 
                much doubling of roles that almost all 
                of the voice types are heard. The strictures 
                I make regarding the production apply 
                equally throughout and would make for 
                repetitious, frankly tedious reading. 
                Firstly there is the recording, which 
                has not captured the orchestra with 
                any immediacy. A recessive pit may be 
                the problem but whatever the cause important 
                detail is smudged. Krombholc infuses 
                kaleidoscopic colour and almost hallucinatory 
                rhythmic momentum in his performance 
                but Dietfried Bernet is a much more 
                conventional, laissez-faire kind of 
                conductor; motor rhythms don’t kick, 
                dance patterns don’t course, string 
                weight is vapid. 
              
 
              
The voices are all 
                perfectly serviceable, well trained 
                but uninteresting. There is a crucial 
                lack of differentiation between voice 
                types as well – The Fish Merchant and 
                the Bird Merchant should have distinctive 
                timbres but here they are generalised 
                squally mezzos. Johannes Chum is a decent 
                enough Michel but lacks ardour and tonal 
                variety and he gets the Toy Memory scene 
                all wrong, or his director and conductor 
                have – specifically it should be sung 
                reflectively with the anticipatory orchestral 
                duck quacks leading into Michel’s memories. 
                Here the band is plain soggy and there’s 
                no relation between the living entity 
                that is the orchestral detail and the 
                text. The Man with the Helmet (Matteo 
                de Monti – doubling the Blind Beggar) 
                lacks sonorous tone – he needs some 
                swagger about him as the Captain after 
                all. The Michel/Julietta meeting is 
                too hectoring. Her voice is too hard 
                and lacks allure. She can be – needs 
                to be – imposing but here she is a conventional 
                and stock character. The two long final 
                scenes lack tension and drama; too static, 
                too lacking in colour. And what is the 
                textual justification for Scene V’s 
                moment when the Man at the Window starts 
                playing his accordion but this time 
                with crazed Schoenbergian disintegration? 
                It should be played as it has been before, 
                surely. It’s an indication that someone 
                is not comfortable with the text and 
                has interpreted the previous lines ("Away 
                with the knife! Help! Help! Help!") 
                as an opportunity for quasi-realism. 
                Which, again, is all wrong. 
              
 
              
If 
                you want Julietta you must have Krombholc. 
                You will then also have Maria Tauberová’s 
                Julietta, the unique Ivo Židek’s Michel, 
                Věra Soukupová, Jindřich Jindrák, 
                Karel Berman, Zdeněk Otava and 
                a whole host of magnificent voices – 
                twenty-four in all, whilst the 
                hard pressed Bregenz made do with twelve, 
                doubling. 
              
 
              
It’s best to be objective 
                about this sort of thing, even at the 
                risk of seeming ungracious and dismissive. 
              
 
              
Jonathan Woolf 
                 
              
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