Can you introduce yourself, and talk about your current musical role and responsibilities?
I’m Aleš Březina, a musicologist and composer. My musicological research primarily focuses on music of the 20th century, and particularly on Bohuslav Martinů. As a composer I write opera, concert, theatre and film music. I also work in dramaturgy – and at the moment I have the position of creative director of the Year of Czech Music and the Smetana 200 project.
For those who haven’t come across it before, can you give a brief introduction to Bohuslav Martinů’s Juliette?
Bohuslav Martinů’s wrote more than 30 stage works, but his full-length opera Juliette, or The Key of Dreams, completed in 1937, might well be the most successful. Based on a text by Georges Neveux, its appeal lies above all in its multi-layered narrative structure, suffused in the strange logic of dreams, and its colourful and yearning music.
The opera’s characters are forever escaping into dream worlds – giving invented or stolen “memories” unrestricted preference over their real lives, which in their banality and ordinariness cannot compete with the dreamed ones. In this strange world, only objects are actually real – people, by contrast, seem completely vague and lacking in coherence. Dreams themselves have degenerated into commodities, and are treated like commodities.
But Martinů and Neveux do not treat these commodified dreams disparagingly. Rather, they make them comprehensible, almost believable, through the poetry of the language and the musical lyricism. They show compassion for the tragedy of their characters, without wanting to excuse their instability. Juliette is therefore more than just a dream opera about a love that has not come to fruition. It is also a bittersweet parable about human longing in general – our inability to communicate with one another, the renunciation of memory and the resulting easy manipulability of people who have allowed themselves to be drawn into longing. The fact that this is achieved with a great deal of humour and beautifully unconventional poetry makes this opera even more unique.
Juliette is one of several operas Martinů composed in the 1930s – what was the context for these works, and what made Martinů’s style distinctive at this time?
While in the 1920s Martinů was thinking mainly of avant garde theatre outside of Czechoslovakia, in the 1930s he turned to musical theatre with a distinctly Czech musical language. The 1937 opera Juliette is a partial return to the surrealism of the previous decade, which the composer combined in a unique way with elements of Czech music. This combination can undoubtedly be called the trademark of Bohuslav Martinů's music of this period.
What impression did the work make on you when you first heard it?
I first heard Juliette on a vintage recording from the 1960s with Maria Tauber as soloist and Jaroslav Krombholc as the musical director. I was utterly enchanted by it, with the feeling that it was somewhat retro, like listening to recordings of 1930s popular music. It wasn't until much later when I heard and saw Juliette on the theatre stage that I understood that the retro feel was due to the age of the recording, and the era in which the musical tastes of its principals were formed. In the meantime, I have seen and heard perhaps 20 different productions, from which I understand that this opera allows a great deal of freedom to the performers and the production team.
What is it like to perform? Are there notable difficulties in staging Martinů’s operas?
Juliette is an absolute delight for any opera company. I have experienced many times that the whole company, including the production team, absolutely loved it and then regretted it immensely when the derniere was approaching. Perhaps the only problem in staging this opera is a matter of taste, timing and a thorough knowledge of the sources and circumstances of the work's creation. It is, of course, always an advantage when a production team has previously encountered another Martinů opera and can thus create a springboard for their further thinking. However, each of his operas is so different that the criteria for staging one cannot be mechanically applied to any other. It is therefore necessary to approach each of them as a supremely original work. And a well-developed sense of humour helps too.
Is there a recording, or a memory of a performance that is particularly special?
Yes, my memory of the production David Pountney created for Opera North Leeds in the 1990s is particularly strong. I first saw it in Maastricht and immediately fell in love with every detail of its staging. The production also featured set designer Stefanos Lazaridis, costume designer Marie-Jeanne Lecca and lighting designer Davy Cunningham. I was very happy when, with the help of many friends, I was able to bring this production to the National Theatre in Prague in 2000, where it was seen by many Czech theatre professionals. I would argue that the production significantly influenced the direction of Czech musical theatre at the beginning of the 21st century.
Do you have a favourite passage in the opera?
It’s absolutely impossible to name just one scene. But some standout moments for me are: the conclusion to Act 1, scene 8: “My love is lost far away”; Act 2, scene 2: “Grandfather Youth”; Act 2, scene 5: “Oh, at last!” And Act 3, Scene 8: “Michel! Michel!”
Where does Juliette fit in Martinů’s overall output? What makes it distinctive?
Juliette is an unexpected work that I believe must have surprised even its creator. It was written around the middle of Martinů’s mature creative period, when he already had vast compositional experience (over 250 compositions), but was also at the peak of his life as a man full of passion.
What guidance would you give to listeners and performers new to Martinů’s music?
Only to open oneself up to the diversity of Martinů’s music, and the many genres from which it draws, ranging from Czech and Moravian folk song, impressionism, 1920s French jazz and 1930s European symphonism.
Why should one come to hear a performance of Martinů’s Juliette?
In the world of musical theatre, it is difficult, if not impossible, to find a work of comparable sensuality and philosophical weight as Martinů’s Juliette.
This article was sponsored by the Year of Czech Music.
