12-08 Belholavek.qxp_Layout 1 11/30/16 11:25 AM Page 26 Notes on the Program By James M. Keller, Program Annotator, The Leni and Peter May Chair From the House of the Dead Overture Leoš Janáček he House of the Dead (Z Mrtvého Dom) was the last of Leoš Janáček’s nine operas. The serial novel From the House of the Dead, by Fyodor Dostoyevsky (1821–81), was an odd choice on which to base an opera. Dostoyevsky wrote it from 1860 to 1862 as an ostensibly fictional (but really autobiographical) account of the four years he served under a sentence of hard labor at the Siberian prison at Omsk. He had been arrested in 1849 as a political dissident because of his membership in a Socialist group, and he was actually condemned to death (along with 20 cohorts) and led to his execution before the sentence was converted at the last minute to mere imprisonment. Setting Dostoyevsky’s novel led to a nontraditional opera — a series of snapshots of prison life in which plotlines emerge, recede, and disappear, a narrative in which, as Dostoyevsky observed, “convicts lived … not as if this were their home, but as some wayside inn, en route somewhere.” The resulting opera has no major characters, really, instead drawing on a succession of singers in small parts. It’s an all-male world, with the only female character being a prostitute (although one prisoner is so young that he is cast as a “pants role,” a boy portrayed by a woman singer). Janáček created the libretto himself, drawing selectively but directly from Dostoyevsky’s text. The composer owned copies of the novel in both Russian and Czech, but he worked predominantly from the original, inscribing the words in his score in a mix of Russian and his own Czech translation. He had essentially signed off on the opera’s first two acts by the time he died, and the third act, which remained on his desk, lacked only a few details, T 26 | NEW YORK PHILHARMONIC which editors finalized prior to the opera’s first production, in 1930. Janáček initially envisioned the music of the overture for a very different medium — a violin concerto, which he began sketching in May 1926. It seems to have been fueled by some underlying program, since Janáček attached various subtitles to it as he sketched: “The Pilgrimage of a Soul,” “Soul,” and “Little Soul.” By the following February he had completed two drafts of the Violin Concerto, and then he suddenly abandoned it, recycling much of its material into the overture for the new opera he was beginning. (In 1988 it was published as a Violin Concerto through the efforts of two Czech editors, but there is every indication that Janáček did not sanction the piece in the form he originally wrote it.) What IN SHORT Born: July 3, 1854, in Hukvaldy, Moravia (today the Czech Republic) Died: August 12, 1928, in Moravská Ostrava, Czechoslovakia (today the Czech Republic) Work composed: sketched as a violin concerto from May 1926 to February 1927; transformed into orchestral overture as Janáček composed the opera From the House of the Dead, from February 1927 until his death World premiere: the opera From the House of the Dead, premiered April 12, 1930, at the National Theatre in Brno, Czechoslovakia New York Philharmonic premiere and most recent performances: March 23–29, 1983, in a concert version of the complete opera, Rafael Kubelík, conductor Estimated duration: ca. 6 minutes 12-08 Belholavek.qxp_Layout 1 11/30/16 11:25 AM Page 27 is most curious is that the score for the aborted Violin Concerto includes rattling chains as an addition to the percussion section. The chains make perfect sense in the context of the opera, and, indeed, they become an ongoing part of the sound world of From the House of the Dead. When he transformed this music for its new role, Janáček maintained strikingly virtuosic passages for the solo violin, and he even expanded the concerto idea by adding a supporting a line for second violin. The Janáček scholar Erik Chisholm tried gamely to make sense of it: The overture is cast as a sort of rondo, with the recurring theme being the highpitched, potentially grating music played by the violins at the outset and then repeated by the full orchestra. Between iterations of the rondo theme (which sometimes returns in varied form) come fleeting sections of contrasting emotional quality: a dance-like passage evoking waltz and polka, a haunting episode of dreamlike surrealism, a section of nervous tenseness, even moments of triumphant transcendence. Basically, a concerto is a conflict between soloist and orchestra — an individual instrument in opposition to a mass of instruments: and in the few places where the solo violin asserts itself … it is soon swept under by the overpowering mass of orchestral tone in much the same way as the individualism of a convict is swamped by the dead-pan level of the mass of convicts and by the voice of authority. Instrumentation: four flutes (two doubling piccolo), two oboes and English horn, three clarinets (one doubling bass clarinet), three bassoons (one doubling contrabassoon), four horns, three trumpets and bass trumpet (doubling tenor tuba), three trombones, tuba, timpani, chains, xylophone, triangle, chimes, harp, celeste, and strings. Sources and Inspirations Leoš Janáček was an enthusiastic Russophile. Although he visited Russia only once (a trip to St. Petersburg in 1902), he gave his two children Russian names — Olga and Vladimir — and was widely read in Russian literature. When he was 22 he wrote a melodrama for speaker and orchestra, titled Death, to a text by Lermontov; his Pohádka (Fairy Tale) for Cello and Piano (1910) was inspired by Zhukovsky’s “The Tale of Czar Berendey”; and his orchestral rhapsody Taras Bulba (1905–18) mirrored a story by Gogol. The works of Tolstoy affected Janáček deeply: in 1921 he considered writing an opera on Anna Karenina and two years later he actually did compose his String Quartet No. 1, inspired by the novella The Kreutzer Sonata. “You see, Dostoyevsky — there’s literature!” Janáček exclaimed in an interview that appeared in the magazine Literárni svét on March 8, 1928, while he was working on From the House of the Dead: In every man a divine spark — they are terribly good people. And then fate strikes — I would say a stab of destiny — only one, and they have to suffer. They will rue it and yet they are people with hearts of pure gold. Janáček, ca. 1926 DECEMBER 2016 | 27
© Copyright 2026 Paperzz