Most opera guides will
tell you that this is the place for newcomers to Janáček to start.
It’s easy to see why; it is in some measure his most sunny and tuneful
stage work, and the story is so delightful on one level, so deep and
meaningful on the other, that it literally offers something for everyone.
Legend has it that Janáček was first alerted to the comic-strip,
on which it is based, by his housekeeper laughing out loud as she followed
it in their daily newspaper. Much of that humour is intact in
his adaptation, but there is a much more profound layer (to be expected
from a great work of art) that transcends the forgotten cartoon origins.
The Supraphon Janáček
opera series has always been a mainstay of the catalogue (some better
than others), but over the last few years has all but been eclipsed
by the Decca series under Mackerras. This is a shame, as these totally
idiomatic performances have much to offer. In the present case, the
conducting of Váčlav Neumann (continuing the
great tradition of Talich and Ančerl), a home grown cast who characterise
their parts as strongly as any, and to cap it all, the contribution
of the marvellous Czech Philharmonic, one of the world’s top orchestras
playing to the manner born. Mind you, Mackerras does have the
Vienna Phil., also on top form, and a truly state-of-the-art recording
to bring out every nuance in the textures. This Supraphon issue is not
quite in that league, but as Czech analogue recordings go, it’s pretty
good.
I particularly liked the central performances here,
with Richard Novák providing a warmly sympathetic portrayal of
the Forester (or Gamekeeper, as he is sometimes referred to). His resolutely
unsentimental approach is welcome, and one can hear the seventy-year-old
composer himself speaking through this
character when he sleepily utters the line “men and women will walk
with heads bowed, and realise that a more-than-earthly joy has passed
that way”. As this is late Janáček, the presence of his muse, Kamila
Stosslová, was inevitable, and she is transmogrified into the
resourceful vulpine wife and mother (the Vixen herself), a part well
taken here by Magdelena Hajossyová. All the other parts are nicely
characterised, and the folk-like element in the score, always present
in Janáček but a major influence here,
is well understood by Neumann. The piece constantly shifts between opera,
ballet, mime and substantial orchestral interludes, and this recording
captures the bloom of the orchestra very well indeed. There is an earlier
Supraphon Vixen, conducted by Bohumil Gregor, but I doubt
if it is any better than this set, which appears to have everyone on
top form. The marvellous Czech Phil. string section revel in the predominance
given to them by the composer, and the typically quirky and idiosyncratic
woodwind writing is beautifully shaped.
I can only echo my opening line, and advise anyone
who is not familiar with Janáček opera
to get this set. You will be entertained and moved in equal measure,
and the ‘cycle of life’ inevitability will linger in the memory. Not
for nothing did the composer want the final scene to be played at his
funeral (which indeed it was), and the listener can share in
what is one of his finest inspirations. Recommended.
Tony Haywood
Czech Philharmonic Chorus
and Orchestra