Plenty of American conductors have stood on the podium at Smetana Hall in Prague and tried to coax a New World sound out of a Czech orchestra, usually with limited success. Leonard Slatkin not only got that sound from the Prague Symphony Orchestra. Under his baton, the orchestra could swing!
That was the estimable finish to a concert that opened with an even more impressive showing, Slatkin’s expert handling of Czech composer Karel Husa’s Music for Prague 1968. Written in response to the invasion of Warsaw Pact troops in August that year, the piece holds almost sacred status in Prague. But even for Czech conductors and players it poses a significant challenge, weaving a centuries-old song of resistance together with modern sounds of panic, conflict and distress that tend to blur into a chaotic clutter. Slatkin put on a clinic in how to render the piece with power, clarity and sensitivity.
From the opening distress calls in the woodwinds and brass, through the deep rumble of machinery on the move, machine-gun percussion and cascading calamities in the strings, Slatkin layered the sound with precision and transparency. He brought a powerful narrative quality to the music, painting vivid pictures of flashing lights, frightened crowds and unstoppable troops on the march. It was a clear, clean treatment of a piece that is almost pure tension and tumult, undergirded by a deep sense of humanity.
The contrast could hardly have been brighter in the second piece, which featured Olga Kern at the keyboard for Rachmaninov’s Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini. Both soloist and orchestra played in an animated, sometimes rollicking style that gave the piece a fine balance of virtuosity and flair. Kern was technically brilliant, burning through the complicated runs with dazzling finesse and lending an fresh, elegant touch to the well-worn Variation 18. What stood out most, though, was her work with Slatkin, which was so tight that in pauses it was obvious they were breathing together. The glance they exchanged in a sharp, note-perfect finish capped a magical moment.
Kinah, a piece Slatkin composed in memoriam to his parents, suffered a bit by being sandwiched between more popular, longstanding works. But the details were riveting and the emotions were palpable, especially in the glimmering bursts of sound that gave the piece a gentle radiance. And it clearly touched the audience, which responded with extended, enthusiastic applause.
Gershwin’s An American in Paris was a perfect fit with Slatkin’s descriptive style, the street bustle, car horns and snatches of music brought to life with New World verve and pulsing energy. In mood, pacing and style, he captured the spirit of restless curiosity that drives the piece, along with the sheer joy in the sensory overload. The colors in the signature melody were particularly vivid, and when the rhythms shifted into boogie-woogie and blues, the sound and syncopation were so authentic that the music might have come straight out of an American nightclub. Even the players were jazzed by the performance, stomping their feet when Slatkin came out for several curtain calls.
The Prague Symphony Orchestra tends to be more malleable than most Czech ensembles, which can be a virtue or a letdown, depending on who’s on the podium. With Slatkin, it was more than sheer skill. There was a chemistry in the pairing and a sparkle in the performance that made for a memorable, high-spirited evening.
