Leos JANÁČEK (1854-1928) 
          Sonata for Violin and Piano [16:55] 
          Bedřich SMETANA (1824-1884) 
          From the Homeland: Two Pieces for Violin and Piano [11:09] 
          Sergey PROKOFIEV (1891-1953) 
          Sonata for Violin Solo, Op.115 [12:04] 
          Sonata for Violin and Piano No.1 in F minor, Op.80 [26:38] 
          Josef špaček (violin - Jean Baptiste Vuillaume, 1855) and 
          Miroslav Sekera (piano) 
          rec. Dvořák Hall, Rudolfinum, Prague, December 2012 
          SUPRAPHON SU 4129-2 [67:18] 
        
         When I met a fellow reviewer recently one thing 
          we both agreed with wholeheartedly was our love and admiration for the 
          music of Janáček. Among my Janáček favourites 
          is his cycle for piano solo “On an Overgrown Path”, his 
          two string quartets, the 1.X.1905  piano sonata and his Sinfonietta. 
          
            
          Zdeněk Nejedlý, a Czech musicologist and later a Minister 
          of Culture during Czechoslovakia’s communist period, was highly 
          critical of Janáček, regarding him as a composer who accumulated 
          a lot of material but wasn’t able to do anything with it, calling 
          his style “unanimated”. You do wonder sometimes what kind 
          of ears some people have; certainly his were not the same as mine for 
          sure nor were they the same as the many who consider Janáček 
          as the greatest Czech composer of the twentieth century. I know very 
          little music that speaks as achingly as some of the pieces within the 
          “On an Overgrown Path” cycle. Therefore I was glad to have 
          this opportunity to get to know his Sonata for Violin and Piano 
          better for I always find that reviewing music forces me to listen more 
          intently. It dates from 1914-15 and followed two previous attempts at 
          writing one, both of which have been lost. How successful they were 
          we’ll never know but since Janáček was as fierce a 
          critic of his own work as anyone else could be the fact that this one 
          survived to be published gives it a stamp of approval from its author. 
          If people like Nejedlý couldn’t appreciate its value it 
          was their loss. 
            
          In 1923 it was first performed in Frankfurt with no less a person than 
          the composer Paul Hindemith playing the violin part. It is unmistakably 
          Janáček with his characteristically bittersweet and heartfelt 
          melodies and rather spare writing; neither a note too many nor a note 
          too few. What could Nejedlý have been thinking of! Some say that 
          the opening of the sonata is descriptive of the anxiety over the beginning 
          of the First World War and you can certainly hear the expression of 
          anxiety in the first movement. Janáček spent seven years 
          revising the work which was only completed to his satisfaction in 1921. 
          The second movement was the only one of the four to remain unchanged 
          and is a lilting and gentle depiction of pastoral calm - a complete 
          contrast to the restless nature of the opening movement with its uneasy 
          dialogue between the two instruments. The third movement is dominated 
          by a folklike theme that Janáček often employed. It’s 
          a common trait amongst Czech composers and with such a rich vein of 
          folk music to draw on who could blame them. The work closes with an 
          Adagio with some beautiful passages for both instruments. Of 
          the chorale-like theme the composer said it depicts “the Russian 
          armies entering Hungary”. 
            
          Another criticism made of Janáček by Nejedlý was 
          that his music did not conform to the style of Smetana. A strange thing 
          to say; why should any composer’s music conform to the style of 
          anyone else? The reason I imagine is that Smetana is thought of as the 
          father of Czech music but why should a father’s “children” 
          be expected to behave as their clones; sterility is the result if there 
          is no development. 
            
          As it happens it is Smetana’s music that follows on from Janáček 
          on the disc with what is sometimes described as the chamber equivalent 
          of his most well known work Ma Vlast (My Country) a work that 
          has always traditionally opened the Prague Spring Festival held each 
          May. From the Homeland: Two Pieces for Violin and Piano is a 
          charming and typical folk inspired work with dance themes that anyone 
          who knows the area will recognise. 
            
          The rest of the disc that makes up more than half the total is of two 
          works by Prokofiev - a complete contrast to the music of the two Czech 
          nationalist composers. The first is his Sonata for Violin Solo, Op.115 
          written in 1947 with the idea that it could be performed by one or several 
          violinists. It was inspired by his watching as 20 students at the Moscow 
          Conservatory performed Bach’s Partita No.3 in perfect harmony. 
          It is a sunny work full of joie de vivre with dancing rhythms 
          throughout and Prokofiev’s characteristically wry humour permeating 
          the proceedings. I imagine that it is quite tricky to ensure that all 
          the contrasting speeds are maintained as per instructions. It is a measure 
          of a violinist’s skill to produce a really convincing performance 
          which this certainly is. The final movement in particular is played 
          by špaček with huge bravura. The Sonata for Violin and 
          Piano No.1 in F minor, Op.80 is, by contrast, very dark but no less 
          thrilling in its own way with a beauty occasioned by its emotive power. 
          Prokofiev ensures that the piano plays as powerfully muscular a role 
          as does the violin and each is perfectly matched to produce a richly 
          rewarding sound that is deeply satisfying. 
            
          I’ve said before how much I love Prokofiev precisely because he 
          is not easy to anticipate where he’s going with a theme. He works 
          to his own logic and not to one that can be predicted - at least, I 
          should say, not by me. I have a particular love for the opening of the 
          third movement which is absolutely gorgeous as well as wistful; it’s 
          no wonder that, unlike what the adverts said about Heineken lager in 
          the 1980s and 1990s, music really can refresh the parts that other 
          (things) cannot reach! The final movement is not as dark as the 
          first two movements but is rather playful. In its closing moments seems 
          to be rushing headlong towards its exit only to put the brakes on to 
          finish in a restrained manner of little more than a whisper. 
            
          It seems that špaček has played the Smetana and the Prokofiev 
          sonata for violin and piano countless times, including for his successful 
          participation in the International Queen Elizabeth Competition in Brussels 
          (2012) where he was Laureate, and I must say it shows since he plays 
          with great maturity. He is partnered by an extremely gifted pianist 
          Miroslav Sekera and the two seem to have created a very effective duo 
          and they are totally in touch with each other at all times. I found 
          the disc enjoyable from start to finish. 
            
          Steve Arloff