Now this is a
real treat. Harnoncourt brings a refreshing slant to Dvořák’s
wonderful tone-poems. The catalogue is replete with Czech
performances of these works - they remain significantly more
popular in the composer’s homeland than elsewhere - but it
is good that they have found such a staunch supporter in the
ever-inquisitive Harnoncourt.
All four of these
works were written in 1896 on his return from America. They
take their inspiration from Erben’s Kytice (“A Bouquet
of Flowers“). Erben had also fuelled the composer’s Spectre’s
Bride - see my review of the Supraphon
recording. The first tone-poem to be heard is The Golden
Spinning Wheel. As Gunilla Eschenbach points out in her
booklet notes, this is a sort of Czech Cinderella - the girl’s
name here being Dornicka. Except here it is much more grisly
- the Golden Spinning Wheel of the title is used in exchange
for Dornicka’s eyes, arms and legs after her dismemberment
at the hands of her stepmother and stepsister. Luckily Dornicka
gets pieced together again - cue solo violin; she is taken
home again and the work ends happily.
Harnoncourt is
very aware of the graphic means the composer calls upon. The
horn-calls of the opening are beautifully distanced, but throughout
the awareness of the composer’s use of gesture gives a real
impression of ongoing narrative. This goes for all four tone-poems
in this twofer. Harnoncourt evokes pastoral space (around
4:30) as easily as he does rustic dancing (c12:00-13:00) or
oncoming doom (19:00-20:00). Personally I remain unconvinced
of Dvořák’s impossibly happy end. But then again, this
is a fairy tale, isn’t it?
The Noon Witch
is another folkloristic nightmare, with the Witch staking
her claims on a child. The child ends up suffocated by its
panicked mother. The tone-poem begins with innocent piping;
wonderfully rendered here. Harnoncourt ensures that biting
strings provide much contrast. The approach of the witch (the
second movement) is characterised by almost spectral strings
before an ultra-ominous Scherzo depicts the struggle for the
child. Here perhaps Harnoncourt could have chosen a touch
more active pace. A special mention should go to the excellent
solo oboist in this piece.
The Water Goblin
takes us to the world of Rusalka. Another tale of child
murder, this is superbly realised here; the strings are so
together! The aquatic imagery rivals Debussy’s and Ravel’s
best efforts in this field - altogether less French, though!
Perhaps the most memorable moment is around 14:20, where all
is slow, dolorous, superbly balanced by Harnoncourt and almost
impossibly beautiful.
Finally, The
Wild Dove. This begins with a funeral procession; listen
to the superbly articulated strings at around 2:40 and how
they suggest a slow, subdued but unstoppable march and moves
on to boisterous festivity. The man whose funeral procession
it is has been murdered so his wife would be free to marry
her lover. The wild dove of the title sits on the husband’s
grave stone. Its incessant cooing drives the woman to despair,
her guilty conscience gets the better of her and she drowns
herself. Harnoncourt ensures the piece makes full emotional
impact.
The recording
is excellent throughout. This is gripping stuff.
Colin Clarke
see also
Review
by Michael Cookson
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Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra/Nikolaus
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