This English-language recording of Janácek’s fourth opera first appeared on EMI, staying in print, typically, for about 15 minutes or so. Fortunately, Chandos has picked up the license for recordings sponsored by Peter Moores, the British philanthropist and lover of opera in English, so we can expect it to remain available for some time. It really deserves to, because the music is gorgeous and the performance absolutely stupendous. The story is simple one: a composer meets his ex-girlfriend at a spa and the two fall in love again, despite the irrational opposition of the girl’s mother. In act two, mother (in-law) goes bats and, full of psychotic hatred for her son-in-law, throws herself down a flight of stairs taking her daughter with her, killing them both. In act three, which takes place more than a decade later, the composer is rehearsing his masterpiece, an opera about his relationship with his late wife. As the rehearsal proceeds, his students (one of whom is his son) realize that the work is actually autobiography, and when a flash of lightening cuts power and stops the rehearsal, the composer understands that the work is fated to remain incomplete. He accepts his fate, a defeated man.
Sounds silly? Well, there are plenty of operas with stories just as bad or worse, and the piece has all of Janácek’s urgency of expression, passion, and drama. It’s also less than 80 minutes long, so it fits well on a single CD. Sir Charles Mackerras, the world’s greatest Janácek conductor, presides over a thoughtful and aptly chosen cast, headed by Philip Langridge’s anguished and insightful portrayal of the main character. The very opening is unforgettable: the strings outline an ominous rhythmic ostinato in duple meter while a brilliant waltz erupts from the bowels of the orchestra, its triple time at once establishing a tension that never lets up. The work clearly deserves a sympathetic major production–it would make a great first half of a double bill–but until it enters the repertoire, if it ever does, this excellent recording (along with its equally fine Czech companion on Supraphon) will be a version of choice.
