It was a family affair at the Rudolfinum, a showcase for Czech music, folklore and the seemingly endless flow of first-rate homegrown talent. Principal Guest Conductor Tomáš Netopil was on the podium leading the Czech Philharmonic in a program of native composers. Tomáš Ille contributed a fresh suite from Janáček’s Makropulos Affair, violin phenomenon Josef Špaček switched to viola for Martinů’s Rhapsody-Concerto, and Vítězslav Novák, a pupil of Dvořák, offered a lively, lyrical portrait of a day in the Moravian countryside. Every family reunion should be this good.
Janáček’s penultimate opera was based on the eponymous play by Czech writer Karel Čapek and, nearly a century later, pulling a suite from it remains a formidable task. Janáček was writing through-composed musical dramas by that point and, aside from the opening prelude, there is not a single instrumental interlude in his Makropulos. Ille focused instead on phrases and motifs that he expanded into contrasting sections evoking the opera’s evolving moods, from sunny optimism to dark despair. Netopil showed superb control of the material, opening with bright, transparent strings and weaving in sharp details and vibrant colors as the piece grew in complexity. The orchestration eventually gets unwieldy, cluttering what was an otherwise nimble performance characterized by Netopil’s skills as an opera conductor – pacing, precision and expression so rich that actual vocals would have been redundant.
The interpretation of Martinů’s Rhapsody-Concerto was equally eloquent, thanks in part to the instrument Špaček brought, a 1767 viola made by “Dutch Stradivari,” Johannes Theodor Cuypers. It has a voice of its own, deep and golden, sentimental yet strong. All of these qualities came to the fore in Špaček’s hands, with intricate runs flowing like water and soulful solos bathed in a warm glow. Employing a lot of vibrato, he gave the piece an emotional underpinning without sacrificing any technical finesse. And Špaček and Netopil were of one mind about Martinů’s freewheeling fantasy, not so much as glancing at each other as they crafted a seamless, unified sound. When they raised clasped hands afterward, it was more a triumph for the music than the performers.