French Horn in Prague
Jaroslav KOFROŇ (1921-1966)
Sonatina for French Horn and Piano (1952) [8:02]
Zdeněk ŠESTÁK (b. 1925)
Concertino No. 2 for French Horn and Piano (1975) [6:43]
Klement SLAVICKÝ (1910-1999)
Capricci per corno e pianoforte (1967) [14:13]
Musica per corno solo (1988) [13:38]
Emil HLOBIL (1901-1987)
Sonata for French Horn and Piano, Op. 21 (1942) [8:02]
Přemysl Vojta (horn); Tomoko Sawano (piano)
rec. Kleiner Sendesaal, Haus des Rundfunks, Berlin, RBB, Nov 2012, Jan
2013.
SUPRAPHON SU41252 [60:05]
This is the launch album of Přemysl Vojta,
solo horn of the Staatskapelle Berlin. Nothing too obvious then when
he could easily have thrown his hat in with some gentle Mozart or uproarious
Strauss. Well, I say, good on him! Here is a rumbustious stylist who
evidently knows his instrument and is prepared to put his art at the
service of a quartet of what are referred to as “20th-century
Prague modernists”. Vojta describes these pieces as: “Works
by unknown composers who experienced World War II, the German occupation,
liberation, occupation by the ‘liberators’ and the bullying
by the communist regime. May this recording be a reminiscence of that
time and the people who lived through it.”
“Modernists”? Well, no need to run screaming to the hills.
The three movement Kofroň is, tuneful, playful, genial and
makes you smile. It ends with victorious rhythmic grunts. Kofroň
can, on this evdiecne, be thought of as a sort of counterpart to Gordon
Jacob. Šeståk is more oblique in his language
but the result is not rigidly atonal and the mood speaks eloquently
enough. If the end of the Elegiaco movement moves into misty
dissonance then the Allegro giusto is a lively and engaging traversal
across the DMZ between hunting party tonality and spiky discord. Slavický
had studied with Josef Suk but his Capricci are defiant and speak
in the language of craggy defiance or lichen-hung reflection. The Musica
per corno solo is in three movements and triumphantly answers the
implicit challenge to keep such a work engaging across approaching 14
minutes. In the central Intermezzo lirico I hear what sounds
very much like a refracted reference to the Bruckner Fourth Symphony.
Hlobil’s 1942 Sonata is another discovery. I had suspected
some obvious reference to the fearful times in which this had been written.
No such thing - at least not in the Animato or the concluding
Vivace. There are some very dark clouds at the start of the central
Lento but these melt away into poetic musing. The finale is sans-souci
jazzy - more than a Scaramouche touch of Françaix, Poulenc
or Milhaud here.
The notes are useful. They are by Wanda Dobrovská.
Rather a nice and surprising collection of approachable music by composers
from Prague.
Rob Barnett
