Politically, Czechia has taken the same turn to the authoritarian right that many nations are following these days. But musically, its heart still rings with the joy of freedom and redemption, and never more than at the Czech Philharmonic’s annual Velvet Revolution concert. This year, guest conductor Sakari Oramo led the orchestra in an exuberant performance of a resonant masterpiece, Mahler’s Symphony no. 2 “Resurrection”.
The standard take on the symphony is plenty of Sturm und Drang, heavy-duty quandaries about the nature of existence and impermanence of life on earth, capped by a choral yearning for an eternal afterlife. There was no lack of turmoil or depth in Oramo’s treatment, but not much of the usual darkness and distress. Instead, the overall spirit was joyful, the sound bright and buoyant, the tempo lively and the moments of drama and tumult tightly controlled, impactful without being overbearing.
Which is not to say the piece lacked solemnity. Oramo struck a sharp commanding tone in the opening bars, a technique he repeated in successive movements that gave his interpretation authority and a sense of nobility, Mahler’s divine aspirations rendered in hard, clean strokes. Just as impressive were Oramo’s quick turns of phrase. The symphony is in some ways a mosaic, packed with abrupt changes in instrumentation and character, which he held together seamlessly, each section articulated in fine detail in a crisp, clear style.
The music was also notably expressive, ranging from graceful, uplifting melodies to a magnificent thundering finale. Oramo achieved this with a large vocabulary on the podium, an array of hand and arm gestures and body English that accomplishes more with a simple turn of the wrist than many conductors manage with jumping histrionics. Occasionally Oramo would give the players a verbal instruction, and was not above doing a small dance to set a rhythm. It’s a sophisticated approach that was fascinating to watch, especially given the spectacular results he achieved.
The chorus and soloists took the stage between the second and third movements, and as always, had a long time to sit before the vocals. But it was worth the wait. Mezzo Okka von der Damerau brought uncommon tenderness to her Urlicht solo that introduces the final movement, ushering in a rich performance by the Prague Philharmonic Choir that started with soft entreaties to “the lord of the harvest” and built to a thrilling surge of vocal radiance, like the gates of heaven opening to welcome rising souls. Soprano Lucy Crowe’s small part was almost lost in the powerful support provided by the orchestra, with Oramo saving the highest volume of the evening for a towering climax.
The audience rose to its feet while the final notes still hung in the air, but the goodwill was about more than Mahler. The concert opened with a fanfare from Smetana’s opera Libuše to welcome President Petr Pavel to the hall, followed by a rousing version of the Czech national anthem sung by the choir. Oramo spun around as he was conducting the national anthem, waving his baton to encourage the audience to sing along – just as he was doing. Pavel is a moderate and not part of the new right-wing regime, which may be why he got an extended round of applause. But whatever one’s politics, the feeling of national pride was palpable, followed by music that vibrantly captured the sense of celebration. Thirty-six years after a student demonstration sparked the overthrow of the communist regime, it still felt like an inspirational moment.
