PRAGUE PHILHARMONIA

Rudolfinum

October 12

Adept at both the classical and modern repertoire.

One of the advantages of being the junior orchestra in town is that you can be more creative in your programming. In the case of the Prague Philharmonia, it’s not a matter of expectations; the orchestra has a substantial subscriber base that, like most audiences in Prague, prefers a conservative approach to the classics. But the Philharmonia isn’t obligated to promulgate the Czech canon, like the Czech Philharmonic or Prague Symphony Orchestra. And with a relatively young group of players (average age: 34) and a baby-faced Music Director and Chief Conductor (Jakub Hrůša, 30) at the helm, it’s open to new ideas.

You can’t get much newer than the Czech premiere of Kryštof Mařatka’s Praharphona, the centerpiece of the Philharmonia’s opening concert of the 2011-12 season. Written in 2009 for harpist Jana Boušková, the piece is a modernist tone poem depicting the sights and sounds of Prague in eight movements. This critic is a fan of Mařatka, and Praharphona did not disappoint. In sustained string and wind textures, the music portrays moonlit nights and dark cobblestone streets, swelling to explosions of electric demagoguery, a raging river Vltava and a raucous pub.

Cool composer.

There is lively percussion throughout, not all of it orthodox – in one movement, the musicians stamp their feet. Mařatka likes to score for unusual instruments, and this piece employs several – a slide whistle, harmonica, even kazoos – to humorous effect. It’s hard to think of another contemporary composer who juxtaposes serious and whimsical elements so well.

The demands were no less strenuous on Boušková, who seldom played a standard harp line. More often she was plucking the strings pizzicato-style, or banging on them with the flat of her hand, or on the harp body for percussive effect. In the opening movement, she ran a plastic ruler along the strings to get a particularly sharp sound. Not all musicians can make this work – or even want to. But Boušková is a consummate pro who regularly toggles between the classical and modern repertoire, and it was clear she was having fun. By the end of the final movement, which finishes in an accompanying calligram with 13 slash marks (signifying beers), many of the other musicians onstage were smiling and laughing as well.

The program opened with Gounod’s Petite Symphonie for Winds, a delightful chamber work for a nine-piece oboe, clarinet, flute, bassoon and French horn ensemble. With nods to Mozart and Haydn, the piece establishes a basic symphonic framework in each of its four movements, then runs through fast-paced, colorful combinations of instruments and tones more typical of chamber music. Bright and catchy, it’s like pop music of the 1880s. The performance tailed off a bit at the end, but otherwise Hrůša drew a full, well-rounded sound from the group.

The evening closed with Schubert’s Symphony No. 8, typically a problematic piece that Hrůša handled with aplomb, emphasizing its lyrical qualities and lustrous tones. Shallow at first, the sound took on depth and dynamics as the piece unfolded, with fine contrasts of power and delicacy. The final movement may have been a bit too fast – some of the crispness and definition that characterized the earlier movements was lost. But overall, the piece offered an impressive demonstration of what a good conductor can do with just 42 instruments. Reputedly better orchestras that have appeared at the Rudolfinum in recent weeks with twice that number of players onstage were not nearly as sharp and clear.

In all, a nicely balanced program with something for every taste, intelligently assembled and smartly performed. And bold. After all, what other orchestra, especially in Prague, would open the season with kazoos in hand?

For a closer look at the Prague Philharmonia: http://www.praguephilharmonia.com/en/profile.html

And more on Jana Boušková: http://www.cema-music.com/page.php?lmut=en&part=artists&id=6

BERG ORCHESTRA: CINEGOGUE

Spanish Synagogue

October 11

The New Babylon: Inspired agitprop.

Who knew propaganda could be so entertaining? The Berg Orchestra’s performance of soundtracks to two silent films at the Spanish Synagogue earlier this week was not only a musical tour de force, but an enlightening excursion to the early years of Russian cinema.

After a brief stop in America. The program opened with a D.W. Griffith one-reeler, A Child of the Ghetto (1910), the heartwarming story of an impoverished young Jewish woman who manages to escape the pitfalls of New York’s Lower East Side and find a new life and love on a farm. It’s stereotypical silent fare, notable chiefly for Griffith’s evocation of the teeming streets of the ghetto, jammed with peddlers and immigrants.

A new soundtrack by Czech composer Jan Dušek got off to a promising start, with light woodwinds that offered a hopeful counterpoint to the grim ghetto scenes. But as the movie grew more melodramatic, so did the music, which sounded positively cheesy by the end. Still, it was a perfect match for the film, mirroring the heroine’s travails and redemption in the New World.

The New Babylon (1929) is an unabashed piece of Russian agitprop, drawing on the novels of Emile Zola to recount the rise and fall of the Paris Commune in 1871. The title refers to the central metaphor of the film, a department store where the frenzy of consumption makes today’s credit debacle seem tame. But even that pales beside the debauchery of the bourgeoisie prior to the Prussian siege of Paris, where a wild-eyed, delirious bunch in tuxedos and evening gowns sate every appetite while the world crumbles around them.

But on a purely artistic level, the film is dazzling. Jewish Ukrainian directors Leonid Trauberg and Grigori Kozincev show influences ranging from Griffith to Dada in their riveting images of a clockwork consumer culture, invading armies, decadent behavior and human anguish. Typical of the period, most of the acting is overwrought. Yet much of it is cleverly staged, with full-lit figures emoting in the foreground while epic action unfolds behind them, in silhouettes and shadows and a haze of movement that looks like rear projection. The juxtaposition of sweeping historical forces and personal tragedy is as good as anything from the silent era.

This is due in no small part to the score, written by 23-year old Dmitri Shostakovich. In excerpts from an essay thoughtfully included in the program, he noted that most composers regard soundtrack work as “a swamp that threatens to submerge anyone coming in contact with it, annihilating their talent.” Shostakovich never felt that way. He gladly took on what he called “cinematic illustration” early in his career, and returned to it when Soviet censors shut down his serious work; he even scored cartoons.

His music for The New Babylon is like a continuous symphonic work, establishing themes and then developing them over the course of scenes and sequences. Rather than trying to match the action onscreen, Shostakovich creates a rhythm, melody or mood and then stays with it, often as a counterpoint. An ominous march accompanying the invading German army, for example, continues even as the scene switches to a nearly deserted nightclub – “reminding the viewer of the terrible force that has been unleashed,” as the composer says in his essay.

And quite uncharacteristic of his later music, there are wonderful touches of humor. Shostakovich incorporates snatches of popular music of the time – waltzes, cancans, bits of Offenbach operettas – and makes very effective use of La Marseillaise.

The Berg ensemble pulled all this off with panache, playing with controlled bursts of emotion and exquisite timing. A shot of hands playing the piano in The New Babylon matched perfectly the keyboard sound from the orchestra. If you were sitting in the back of the room, where the orchestra was out of sight, it was easy to forget they were there – the best compliment an ensemble can get for live film accompaniment.

Next month, the Berg Orchestra will reprise its performance of Heiner Goebbels’ Schwarz auf Weiss at Veletržní palác (Nov. 25, 26 & 27). If you haven’t seen it, put it on your calendar. Like the silents, it’s a rare and entertaining event.

For more on Schwarz auf Weiss: http://www.schwarzaufweiss.cz

For a closer look at The New Babylon: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0020230/