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Czech Philharmonic • Velvet Revolution Concerts
For several years, we have been thinking about a special concert that would decorate our concert season and would also commemorate an important date in the history of this country. The holiday of Saint Wenceslas came to mind, as did the date of the founding of Czechoslovakia as an independent state, and Struggle for Freedom and Democracy Day.
The Mystery of Time, Op. 31, passacaglia for large orchestra (24')
Symphony No. 7 in C Major, Op. 60 (“Leningrad”) (69')
Semyon Bychkov conductor
Rudolfinum — Dvořák Hall
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Customer Service of Czech Philharmonic
Tel.: +420 227 059 227
Customer Service office hours are on weekdays from 09:00 a.m. to 06:00 p.m.
For several years, we have been thinking about a special concert that would decorate our concert season and would also commemorate an important date in the history of this country. The holiday of Saint Wenceslas came to mind, as did the date of the founding of Czechoslovakia as an independent state, and Struggle for Freedom and Democracy Day. The Saint Wenceslas holiday is in September, right at the time of the Dvořák Prague Festival, and the October commemoration of the founding of Czechoslovakia is already connected with a number of official public events. For the Czech Philharmonic, however, the last of the three, 17th of November, is also a holiday with immanent ties to the orchestra’s history.
Above all, we wanted to create a tradition of concerts that would provide an artistic experience of depth and would be a truly special musical event. The programme would always be connected with the theme of freedom expressed in music. Taking the baton for the first three years will be exceptional conductors Semyon Bychkov, Jakub Hrůša, and Sir Simon Rattle. The soloists will also be special, you will learn their names when the new seasons are announced. For the first year, however, we have chosen a purely orchestral programme, reflecting the history of our orchestra and the personal relationship of Chief Conductor Semyon Bychkov with Shostakovich’s Seventh Symphony, which was written in the conductor’s home town, Leningrad. In recent years, Kabeláč’s masterful passacaglia has begun to appear on the programmes of top orchestras around the world and Shostakovich’s Leningrad Symphony is an embodiment of perhaps the greatest victory of the human spirit and of unbroken desire for freedom in all of music history.
“This was a testament not only to Mahler, but also to Mr. Bychkov and the Czech Philharmonic... this was a moving and intelligent reading of the Resurrection, dramatic in the opening and finale, sweet and playful in the inner movements, and sublime in the setting of Urlicht...”
The New York Times
Semyon Bychkov's tenure as Chief Conductor and Music Director of the Czech Philharmonic was initiated with concerts in Prague, London, New York and Washington marking the 100th anniversary of Czechoslovak independence in 2018. Since the culmination of The Tchaikovsky Project in 2019 – a 7-CD box set released by Decca Classics and a series of international residencies – Bychkov and the Czech Philharmonic have been focusing on the symphonic works of Mahler with performances and recordings scheduled both at home and abroad.
During the 2021/22 season, Mahler’s First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth and Seventh Symphonies will all be heard internationally including on tour at the Grafenegg Festival in Austria during the summer. The Czech Philharmonic’s 126th season’s subscription concerts in October will open with Mahler’s Ninth Symphony. In the spring, a Czech Festival at Vienna’s Musikverein featuring Smetana’s Má vlast – recorded by Bychkov and the Czech Philharmonic during lockdown - alongside works by Kabeláč, Dvořák, Martinů and Janáček will be followed by an extensive European tour including concerts at the Philharmonie in Berlin, Hamburg’s Elbphilharmonie and two concerts at London’s Barbican Centre.
Especially recognised for his interpretations of the core repertoire, Bychkov has also worked closely with many extraordinary contemporary composers including Luciano Berio, Henri Dutilleux and Maurizio Kagel. In recent seasons he has collaborated with René Staar, Thomas Larcher, Richard Dubignon, Detlev Glanert and Julian Anderson, conducting premières of their works with the Vienna Philharmonic, New York Philharmonic, Royal Concertgebouw and the BBC Symphony Orchestra at the BBC Proms. Highlights of the new season include the German première of Larcher’s Piano Concerto with dedicatee Kirill Gerstein in Berlin, the Czech première of Bryce Dessner’s Mari and the world première of Anderson’s Prague Panoramas, also presented in Prague. The three new works are amongst fourteen commissions initiated by Bychkov at the start of his tenure with the Czech Philharmonic.
In common with the Czech Philharmonic, Bychkov has one foot firmly in the culture of the East and the other in the West. Born in St Petersburg in 1952, Bychkov emigrated to the United States in 1975 and has lived in Europe since the mid-1980's. Singled out for an extraordinarily privileged musical education from the age of 5, Bychkov studied piano before winning his place at the Glinka Choir School where, aged 13, he received his first lesson in conducting. He was 17 when he was accepted at the Leningrad Conservatory to study with the legendary Ilya Musin and, within three years had won the influential Rachmaninov Conducting Competition. Denied the prize of conducting the Leningrad Philharmonic, Bychkov left the former Soviet Union.
By the time Bychkov returned to St Petersburg in 1989 as the Philharmonic’s Principal Guest Conductor, he had enjoyed success in the US as Music Director of the Grand Rapids Symphony Orchestra and the Buffalo Philharmonic. His international career, which began in France with Opéra de Lyon and at the Aix-en-Provence Festival, took off with a series of high-profile cancellations which resulted in invitations to conduct the New York Philharmonic, Berlin Philharmonic and Royal Concertgebouw Orchestras. In 1989, he was named Music Director of the Orchestre de Paris; in 1997, Chief Conductor of the WDR Symphony Orchestra Cologne; and the following year, Chief Conductor of the Dresden Semperoper.
Bychkov’s symphonic and operatic repertoire is wide-ranging. He conducts in all the major houses including La Scala, Opéra national de Paris, Dresden Semperoper, Wiener Staatsoper, New York’s Metropolitan Opera, the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden and Teatro Real. Madrid. While Principal Guest Conductor of Maggio Musicale Fiorentino, his productions of Janáček’s Jenůfa, Schubert’s Fierrabras, Puccini’s La bohème, Shostakovich’s Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk and Mussorgsky’s Boris Godunov each won the prestigious Premio Abbiati. New productions in Vienna included Strauss’ Der Rosenkavalier and Daphne, Wagner’s Lohengrin and Parsifal, and Mussorgsky’s Khovanshchina; while in London, he made his debut with a new production of Strauss’ Elektra, and subsequently conducted new productions of Mozart’s Così fan tutte, Strauss’ Die Frau ohne Schatten and Wagner’s Tannhäuser. Recent productions include Wagner’s Parsifal at the Bayreuth Festival and Strauss’s Elektra at the Wiener Staatsoper.
On the concert platform, the combination of innate musicality and rigorous Russian pedagogy has ensured that Bychkov’s performances are highly anticipated. In the UK, in addition to regular performances with the London Symphony Orchestra, his honorary titles at the Royal Academy of Music and the BBC Symphony Orchestra - with whom he appears annually at the BBC Proms – reflect the warmth of the relationships. In Europe, he tours frequently with the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra and Munich Philharmonic, as well as being a frequent guest of the Vienna and Berlin Philharmonics, the Leipzig Gewandhaus, the Orchestre National de France and the Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia; in the US, he can be heard with the New York Philharmonic, Chicago Symphony, Los Angeles Symphony, Philadelphia and Cleveland Orchestras. This season, in addition to extensive concert commitments with the Czech Philharmonic, Bychkov's guest conducting engagements include further performances of Mahler’s symphonies with the Orchestre de Paris, Leipzig Gewandhaus, Berlin, Oslo and LA Philharmonic Orchestras, and Strauss’s Elektra at the Opéra national de Paris.
Bychkov made extensive recordings for Philips with the Berlin Philharmonic, Bavarian Radio, Royal Concertgebouw, Philharmonia, London Philharmonic and Orchestre de Paris. Later, his 13-year collaboration (1997-2010) with WDR Symphony Orchestra Cologne produced a series of benchmark recordings that included works by Strauss (Elektra, Daphne, Ein Heldenleben, Metamorphosen, Alpensinfonie, Till Eulenspiegel), Mahler (Symphony No. 3, Das Lied von der Erde), Shostakovich (Symphony Nos. 4, 7, 8, 10, 11), Rachmaninov (The Bells, Symphonic Dances, Symphony No. 2), Verdi (Requiem), a complete cycle of Brahms Symphonies, and works by Detlev Glanert and York Höller. His recording of Tchaikovsky’s Eugene Onegin was recommended by BBC’s Radio 3’s Building a Library (2020); Wagner’s Lohengrin was BBC Music Magazine’s Record of the Year (2010); and Schmidt’s Symphony No. 2 with the Vienna
Philharmonic was BBC Music Magazine’s Record of the Month (2018).
In 2015, Semyon Bychkov was named Conductor of the Year by the International Opera Awards.
The Mystery of Time, Op. 31, passacaglia for large orchestra
Vedle Dvořáka a Martinů nejvýznamnější český symfonik, si brzy vytvořil vlastní osobitý a nezaměnitelný kompoziční styl, který charakterizuje vytříbená, většinou modální melodika, strohá polyfonie, drsná souzvukovost a velkolepá architektura rozměrných skladebných celků. Poprvé se objevuje v kantátě Neustupujte (1938–39), konsekventně se rozvíjí v řadě osmi symfonií (1941–71), z nichž každá má zvláštní obsazení, a v myšlenkově závažných orchestrálních skladbách, zabývajících se hudební interpretací obecných filosofických otázek, jako je rozměrná passacaglia pro velký orchestr Mysterium času op. 31 N 41. Vedle Druhé symfonie in C jde o jednu z Kabeláčových nejmohutnějších skladeb vůbec. Vznikala v letech 1953–57, a již v roce dokončení ji premiérovala Česká filharmonie v nastudování skladatelova přítele Karla Ančerla 23. října 1957.
Náš subjektivní pojem času je dán tím, jak prožíváme přítomnost a spojuje v sobě to, co se opakuje (tlukot srdce, minuty, hodiny, dny...) s tím, co se už nevrací (vznik, růst a zánik). Myslíme v pojmech časových jednotek, period, obdobích, ale to vše obsahuje trvání. Hudba není jen časovým uměním, i když v čase probíhá, jako veškeré naše vnímání a konání, ona čas tvoří: „je nám dána k tomu, abychom řád mezi člověkem a přírodou převedli na řád mezi člověkem a časem,“ jak už poznamenal Igor Stravinskij. Smyslem Kabeláčova Mysteria je hudební vyjádření nekonečného plynutí času jako jednotícího principu, který v našem vnímání udává řád vesmírnému dění ve vztahu k oblouku vzniku, růstu a zániku v čase, metafory lidského údělu i osudu společenství.
Rozlehlá hudební architektura Kabeláčovy věty plyne v jediném monumentálním gradačním oblouku (Grave – Andante – Energico – Feroce – Maestoso – Grave), vytvořeném promyšlenými operacemi ve všech základních parametrech hudebního času: tempu, metru, rytmu a hybnosti, která se zvyšuje s pozvolna zrychlujícím se tempem a působí na výrazně diferencované metrické proměny v různých vrstvách orchestrální faktury. V základu metrorytmické stavby je přitom trvale přítomný pravidelně odměřovaný dvoudobý puls půlových hodnot v pomalém tempu jako představa pulsu fyzikálního času, ve skutečnosti vlastní opakující se téma passacaglie, protože všechna zrychlování i nárůst hustoty pohybu v čase jsou postupná a vytvářená výhradně na základě této konstantní míry.
Základem melodické a harmonické stavby celé kompozice je šedesátitaktové modální téma, připomínající chorál, které poprvé celé zazní ve violách. Pro jeho délku a velmi pomalý pohyb ho nevnímáme jako významovou entitu: je ale všudypřítomné, a proto vlastně skryté, i když stále zní a v průběhu skladby prochází ve variačních proměnách všemi nástrojovými skupinami. Je přítomno v horizontále i ve vertikále, v čase komprimováno i expandováno. Výrazově se proměňuje v širokém spektru tvarování, včetně dělení a horizontálních i vertikálních inverzí: počáteční meditativní nálada skladby se zvolna mění a hudební proud přes fugu akceleruje ve střední části do strhujícího dramatu, v němž krátké signály několikatónových zkratek současníkům zněly jako výmluvné hudební symboly.
Když napětí dosáhne dramaticky vypjatého vrcholu, hudební proud se zpomalí, zvolna utichá, až nenápadně vyústí do zklidněného závěru. Mysterium času, které vznikalo v nejtemnější době totality, představuje dokonale hudebně vyjádřenou ideu všudypřítomného řádu, který sice lze narušit, ale nikdy ne zničit. Je hudební metaforu lidského osudu v konfrontaci s věčností, zatímco jeho dvojník, Kabeláčova Pátá symfonie pro soprán a orchestr op. 41 N 54, představuje myšlenkový protipól: „Tam člověk hledí do vesmíru, zde, v symfonii, nahlíží do svého nitra.“
Symphony No. 7 in C Major, Op. 60 (“Leningrad”)
Moderato (poco allegretto)
Allegro non troppo
In the life of Dmitri Shostakovich, the Second World War came on the heels of a period that was no less dramatic. In the latter half of the 1930s during the “Great Purge”, the Stalin regime rid itself of more than a million of its ideological enemies amongst intellectuals, politicians, and members of the military. These events drastically afflicted Shostakovich’s birthplace Leningrad. The victims of the political terror included Shostakovich’s friends the stage director Meyerhold and Marshal Tukhachevsky. After Stalin attended the opera Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District in January 1936, an article appeared in Pravda with the notorious headline Muddle Instead of Music, and it seemed that Shostakovich’s arrest was inevitable. Ultimately he was not arrested either before or after the war, but fear and anxiety pursued the composer nearly to the end of his life. Stalin’s relationship with Shostakovich was almost incomprehensibly ambivalent, and that relationship was also an important factor in the composer’s life and work. Stalin subjected Shostakovich to public humiliation and harassment while at almost the same time showering him with the highest honours and titles.
Shostakovich himself said he began thinking about the seventh of his 15 symphonies even before the war, and when the Germans arrived at the edge of Leningrad in early September 1941, the first movement was already finished, and he was hard at work on the others. During the months that followed, he wrote the next two movements in the besieged city, then he finished the finale in Kuybyshev (today Samara), where he and his whole family had been evacuated in the middle of October, and where the Seventh Symphony was first performed in March 1942. Soon after the premiere, the story of this work began to live a life of its own, and Stalin’s propaganda tirelessly exploited the work’s image as a symbol of the German occupation and of Russian resilience. It is not without interest that the composition very quickly became popular in the countries of the Western allies as well, and it served their purposes as part of their anti-Hitler political marketing. Ultimately, it was the famed conductor Arturo Toscanini who won the hotly contested rights for the first Western performance, and the symphony was first heard on American soil almost a month before it was heard in Leningrad itself. The popularity of the Seventh Symphony was soon carried over to the person of the composer himself, and it is likely that this attention from the West fanned the flames of Stalin’s intolerance.
Shostakovich himself took little interest in the spontaneous popularity of this work. Through no fault of the composer, the Leningrad Symphony had been turned into a political tool that had little if anything to do with his personal convictions. It is paradoxical that the war of all things gave Shostakovich an opportunity to delve fearlessly into the feelings that had been troubling him long before the German invasion. This is also documented by the words of the author Ilya Ehrenburg, who recalled the wartime years as a period of relative creative freedom for Soviet artists: “It was possible to portray sorrow and destruction”. Shostakovich often spoke of his symphonies including the Seventh as requiems for all the heroes who were never honoured. “The majority of my symphonies are tombstones. Too many of our people died and were buried in places unknown to anyone. I’m willing to write a composition for each of the victims, but that’s impossible, and that’s why I dedicate my music to them all.”
In Leningrad, the city that gave the symphony its name, the circumstances of the first performance were extraordinarily dramatic. At the time, the Germans had already kept Leningrad under siege for nearly a year with devastating effects, and its residents were suffering from the lack of everything a person needs to survive, from food to electricity. Already by then, the number of victims was in the hundreds of thousands. The only orchestra that remained in the city was the Leningrad Radio Orchestra led by the conductor Karl Eliasberg. Of the ensemble’s original 40 members, only about 15 remained; the rest had died of hunger or were sent to the front. Nonetheless, performing the symphony there was a matter of the highest priority, so even the top authorities in Leningrad made every effort to ensure that the concert took place. Understandably, the musical quality of the performance was not comparable to earlier ones whether in Russia or the USA. The atmosphere, however, was unique. The ovation lasted nearly an hour, and people were weeping. “Some wept because it was the only way to express their emotion, others heard a reflection of their everyday lives in the music, still others were weeping for those they had lost, and some were just moved that they were able to go to the Philharmonia and listen to music”, wrote the historian Anna Reid, quoting one of the witnesses. The concert was broadcast on the radio, and according to available reports, among those listening were even the German soldiers outside the city. Many years later, a few of them sought out the conductor Eliasberg and reminisced about that day: “When we heard this music, we said to ourselves—for God’s sake, who is it that we are bombarding? We realised that we could never conquer Leningrad. Its inhabitants were driven by a powerful will to survive that was mightier than hunger, fear, and death.”
Initially, the composer gave programmatic titles to the individual movements of the symphony, but he soon crossed them out, so only the tempo indications of the movements remained. Shostakovich was very opposed to the Leningrad Symphony being interpreted as a musical description of the German occupation. That does not mean, however, that there is even a single bar of the composition that is not permeated by the war. Before Shostakovich abandoned Leningrad, he played the first three movements on the piano for his friends the theatre critics Isaak Glikman and Ivan Sollertinsky with the noise of the ongoing bombardment in the background. During the discussion afterwards, all three realised how remarkably the music corresponded to the environment in which they were then living.
The Leningrad Symphony is one of Shostakovich’s longest works. The first movement alone lasts nearly 30 minutes, and the whole symphony is about an hour and a quarter long. The first movement, Allegretto, begins with a majestic theme in the strings accompanied by the woodwinds. The opening is followed by a calmer passage dominated by a lyrical line for the flute and ending with a dialogue between the piccolo and a solo violin. The most famous passage of the entire symphony now arrives abruptly: a rhythmical march theme with a structure reminiscent of Ravel’s Bolero and a melody based on the tune of a popular aria from Lehár’s operetta The Merry Widow. That fact is seemingly the origin of the frequent interpretation of the “march” as the motif of the German invasion. The 22-bar theme is repeated 12 times, and the instrumentation and dynamics build up gradually, growing into the monumental sound of the full orchestra. The opening sequence familiar from the beginning of the movement now returns with the majestic passage followed by the lyrical episode, now represented by a bassoon solo. The opening theme is heard again, then the march motif returns in the brief coda, this time played only by percussion and solo trumpet.
The two middle movements, Moderato (poco allegretto) and Adagio, are very similar in mood: lyrical and calm, evoking nostalgia. In the second movement, there are discernible dance rhythms, while according to Shostakovich, the third movement is intended to depict Leningrad with the sun setting on its streets and the banks of the Neva. The fourth movement, Allegro non troppo, begins with a quiet melodic theme played softly, but the thunderous sound of the full orchestra soon makes itself heard. The character of the finale is fierce, determined, and victorious. The triumphantly optimistic forte in C major is disturbed only by the worrying sound of drums and tympani in the background—evil is still present, and one must remain on guard against it.