Smetana wrote Prodaná nevěsta (“The Bartered Bride”) as a light Czech folk piece in a playful reply to critics who said that his music was too Wagnerian, or too German for that matter – something not compatible with the growing Czech national consciousness in the period he composed it (1863–66), even though he only showed mild interest in the Czech cause. Ironically, the long-standing success on international opera stages of what today is considered the Czech national opera may be partly owed to a German translation of Karel Sabina’s excellent libretto – not only because German is more widely understood, but also because it feels natural even to modern audiences that usually prefer to hear a score as close to the original as possible. If one likes the thought that all music is language, this feeling that the German fits the music like a glove may have to do with the fact that Smetana was christened Friedrich and learned Czech only as an adult. Those in search for a more scientific answer learned at the 2011 Styriarte festival performances of Die verkaufte Braut that the version given was based on a piano score to which Smetana himself had added a German text in a translation by a certain Emanuel Züngel, something that had been waiting at an antiques dealer for no less than conductor Nikolaus Harnoncourt to discover it.
The Volksoper’s new production by Helmut Baumann is based on a more recent translation by German musicologist Kurt Honolka that is a little piece of art in itself, but the way in which it was sung and acted out often conjured up the adjectives used by the critics of the 1866 Prague world première: empty and tacky. It is known that Caroline Melzer (Marie) is no stage animal, but Volksoper dramaturgy (Helene Sommer) being so sloppy as to leave her seemingly undirected for long stretches came as a bewildering surprise, especially when the few directions there were appeared to be out of place – Marie, the mild-mannered country beauty with a strong character, is not someone to hop on a table or strike one or two ludicrous poses like right out of any Carmen finale in her confrontation scene with Hans. I would have expected Melzer to make up for this with clear tone and phrasing, but while she sounded a bit like a Marschallin with a weak top in Act I, her intonation became increasingly shaky as the evening wore on, something that the spare, translucent score for some of Marie’s music mercilessly exposed (although it has to be said that the fully orchestrated Act III aria didn’t sound any better).