Jakub Hrůša Conductor
Wiener Singakademie (choir director: Heinz Ferlesch)
Christina Landshamer Soprano
Wiebke Lehmkuhl Alto

Programme
Gustav Mahler Symphonie Nr. 2 c-Moll

This concert ventures into the thrilling spheres of an epic work by the symphonic philosopher Gustav Mahler, who once confessed: »When I listen to music – even while conducting – I often hear very specific answers to all my questions, and am completely clear and certain.« Mahler was always interested in the intellectual currents of his time, and had a thirst for knowledge that naturally was reflected in his music. The musicologist Constantin Floros has referred to this attitude as »Mahler’s intellectual curiosity«. Mahler’s thinking and composing usually centred on philosophical, religious, and existential questions. His Second Symphony, premiered in 1895 and nicknamed the »Resurrection Symphony«, is one of the symphonies that explores his worldview. The eternal human questions of death and resurrection are evoked in a massive symphonic fresco – incorporating the human voice as the »ultima ratio« of musical annunciation. Mahler called the poignant opening movement »Totenfeier« (funeral ceremony); in the second movement, the light-hearted melodies of the Ländler, a country dance, are heard; and the Scherzo presents a transformation of the song from »Des Knaben Wunderhorn« about St. Anthony’s futile sermon to the fish – until finally the chant of the »Urlicht« (primal light) rises up, intensifying into fervent pleading: »Ich bin von Gott und will wieder zu Gott« (»I am of God and want to return to God«). The Finale, which Mahler says represents a »Great Summons«, at first is characterised by highly agitated outbursts, including an offstage orchestra. But then, as if from another world, a lonely birdcall from the piccolo is heard, and Klopstock’s »Resurrection Ode« rises as if by magic – very cautiously at first, but Mahler gradually increases the tension as the music progresses, coming to a gripping climax in the words: »Sterben werd’ ich, um zu leben! Auferstehen, ja auferstehen wirst du!« – »I will die in order to live! You will be resurrected, yes, resurrected!«

Jakub Hrůša Conductor
Wiener Singakademie (choir director: Heinz Ferlesch)
Christina Landshamer Soprano
Wiebke Lehmkuhl Alto

Programme
Gustav Mahler Symphonie Nr. 2 c-Moll

This concert ventures into the thrilling spheres of an epic work by the symphonic philosopher Gustav Mahler, who once confessed: »When I listen to music – even while conducting – I often hear very specific answers to all my questions, and am completely clear and certain.« Mahler was always interested in the intellectual currents of his time, and had a thirst for knowledge that naturally was reflected in his music. The musicologist Constantin Floros has referred to this attitude as »Mahler’s intellectual curiosity«. Mahler’s thinking and composing usually centred on philosophical, religious, and existential questions. His Second Symphony, premiered in 1895 and nicknamed the »Resurrection Symphony«, is one of the symphonies that explores his worldview. The eternal human questions of death and resurrection are evoked in a massive symphonic fresco – incorporating the human voice as the »ultima ratio« of musical annunciation. Mahler called the poignant opening movement »Totenfeier« (funeral ceremony); in the second movement, the light-hearted melodies of the Ländler, a country dance, are heard; and the Scherzo presents a transformation of the song from »Des Knaben Wunderhorn« about St. Anthony’s futile sermon to the fish – until finally the chant of the »Urlicht« (primal light) rises up, intensifying into fervent pleading: »Ich bin von Gott und will wieder zu Gott« (»I am of God and want to return to God«). The Finale, which Mahler says represents a »Great Summons«, at first is characterised by highly agitated outbursts, including an offstage orchestra. But then, as if from another world, a lonely birdcall from the piccolo is heard, and Klopstock’s »Resurrection Ode« rises as if by magic – very cautiously at first, but Mahler gradually increases the tension as the music progresses, coming to a gripping climax in the words: »Sterben werd’ ich, um zu leben! Auferstehen, ja auferstehen wirst du!« – »I will die in order to live! You will be resurrected, yes, resurrected!«

Jakub Hrůša Conductor
Christina Landshamer, soprano
Wiebke Lehmkuhl, alto
Wiener Singakademie
Bamberger Symphoniker

Programme:
Gustav Mahler: Symphony No. 2 in C minor (“Resurrection”)

It’s sure to be included in a canon of classics: Mahler’s “Resurrection” Symphony, one of the most popular orchestral works of all time, will be performed by the Bamberger Symphoniker, whose latest Mahler recordings brought home all the major awards. A characteristic example of the powerful aesthetic that prevailed around 1900, this monumental symphony featuring choir, solo voice, and off-stage orchestra is hard to surpass in terms of effect. Its structure anticipated the cinematic melodrama: each “scene” escalates into a “catastrophe,” which is followed by the next “scene” – and then the next catastrophe. “I will die in order to live!” the choir proclaims ecstatically. The core of this symphony is life itself, it is addressed to faltering mankind with all our metamorphoses.

Jakub Hrůša , conductor
Kateřina Kněžíkov, soprano
Sasha Cooke, mezzo-soprano
Brandon Jovanovich, tenor
Adam Plachetka, bass
Paul Jacobs, organ
Tanglewood Festival Chorus
Boston Symphony Orchestra

Programme
Dvořák: Symphony No. 6.
Janáček’s Glagolitic Mass

Czech conductor Jakub Hrůša is joined by the Tanglewood Festival Chorus in its first BSO concerts since February 2020 in Leoš Janáček’s Glagolitic Mass an affirmation of the composer’s deep-seated identity as a Czech composer and as a Slav. Its music style is colored by Slavic traditional and sacred music, and sounds both ancient and very modern. Opening the program is Janáček’s great Czech predecessor Antonín Dvořák’s Symphony No. 6. One of the finest of Romantic symphonies, it was written for the prestigious Vienna Philharmonic and conductor Hans Richter.

Jakub Hrůša , conductor
Kateřina Kněžíkov, soprano
Sasha Cooke, mezzo-soprano
Brandon Jovanovich, tenor
Adam Plachetka, bass
Paul Jacobs, organ
Tanglewood Festival Chorus
Boston Symphony Orchestra

Programme
Dvořák: Symphony No. 6.
Janáček’s Glagolitic Mass

Czech conductor Jakub Hrůša is joined by the Tanglewood Festival Chorus in its first BSO concerts since February 2020 in Leoš Janáček’s Glagolitic Mass an affirmation of the composer’s deep-seated identity as a Czech composer and as a Slav. Its music style is colored by Slavic traditional and sacred music, and sounds both ancient and very modern. Opening the program is Janáček’s great Czech predecessor Antonín Dvořák’s Symphony No. 6. One of the finest of Romantic symphonies, it was written for the prestigious Vienna Philharmonic and conductor Hans Richter.

Jakub Hrůša , conductor
Kateřina Kněžíkov, soprano
Sasha Cooke, mezzo-soprano
Brandon Jovanovich, tenor
Adam Plachetka, bass
Paul Jacobs, organ
Tanglewood Festival Chorus
Boston Symphony Orchestra

Programme
Dvořák: Symphony No. 6.
Janáček’s Glagolitic Mass

Czech conductor Jakub Hrůša is joined by the Tanglewood Festival Chorus in its first BSO concerts since February 2020 in Leoš Janáček’s Glagolitic Mass an affirmation of the composer’s deep-seated identity as a Czech composer and as a Slav. Its music style is colored by Slavic traditional and sacred music, and sounds both ancient and very modern. Opening the program is Janáček’s great Czech predecessor Antonín Dvořák’s Symphony No. 6. One of the finest of Romantic symphonies, it was written for the prestigious Vienna Philharmonic and conductor Hans Richter.

Jakub Hrůša Conductor
Hélène Grimaud Piano
Bamberger Symphoniker

Robert Schumann: Konzert für Klavier und Orchester a-Moll op. 54
Bedřich Smetana: »Má vlast« (»Mein Vaterland«, Auszüge)

Scintillating fusion of nations! A contemporary raved about Smetana: »Richly knowledgeable, he had seen much, suffered much, and was a skilled and exciting storyteller.« The great Czech composer was fascinated by his homeland’s wonderful landscapes and wealth of legends. His magnificent national epic »Má vlast«, written between 1874 and 1879, creates a portrait of some of these scenes and myths. Our musical journey starts at the »Vyšehrad«, where it seems a medieval bard is evoking the royal castle’s glorious past. This is followed by the deathless »earworm« of the Vltava theme: Smetana’s music atmospherically traces the course of the river from its source to its mouth. The next tone poem revolves around the legendary warrior maiden »Šárka«, who leads a bloodthirsty campaign of revenge against unfaithful lovers – after first arousing the curiosity of men through her wiles. Finally, there is the atmospheric »From Bohemia’s Woods and Fields«, a light-hearted foray into scenes of pastoral beauty. Hélène Grimaud, too, believes nature to be the »humanity’s most important muse« – and her performances are also always driven by »curiosity and a sense of adventure«. Together with our orchestra, this exceptional artist will interpret the last piano concerto by Bartók, who, as an avid researcher of folk music, spent decades travelling across his native Hungary and to other countries with a phonograph. He completed his Third Piano Concerto in 1945 shortly before his death in exile in the USA – and it is imbued with his longing for his homeland and his love of nature: we hear a Hungarian children’s song, as well as the »music of a night filled with birds and insects«, which Bartók had noted down in North Carolina.

Jakub Hrůša Conductor
Hélène Grimaud Piano
Bamberger Symphoniker

Robert Schumann: Konzert für Klavier und Orchester a-Moll op. 54
Bedřich Smetana: »Má vlast« (»Mein Vaterland«, Auszüge)

Scintillating fusion of nations! A contemporary raved about Smetana: »Richly knowledgeable, he had seen much, suffered much, and was a skilled and exciting storyteller.« The great Czech composer was fascinated by his homeland’s wonderful landscapes and wealth of legends. His magnificent national epic »Má vlast«, written between 1874 and 1879, creates a portrait of some of these scenes and myths. Our musical journey starts at the »Vyšehrad«, where it seems a medieval bard is evoking the royal castle’s glorious past. This is followed by the deathless »earworm« of the Vltava theme: Smetana’s music atmospherically traces the course of the river from its source to its mouth. The next tone poem revolves around the legendary warrior maiden »Šárka«, who leads a bloodthirsty campaign of revenge against unfaithful lovers – after first arousing the curiosity of men through her wiles. Finally, there is the atmospheric »From Bohemia’s Woods and Fields«, a light-hearted foray into scenes of pastoral beauty. Hélène Grimaud, too, believes nature to be the »humanity’s most important muse« – and her performances are also always driven by »curiosity and a sense of adventure«. Together with our orchestra, this exceptional artist will interpret the last piano concerto by Bartók, who, as an avid researcher of folk music, spent decades travelling across his native Hungary and to other countries with a phonograph. He completed his Third Piano Concerto in 1945 shortly before his death in exile in the USA – and it is imbued with his longing for his homeland and his love of nature: we hear a Hungarian children’s song, as well as the »music of a night filled with birds and insects«, which Bartók had noted down in North Carolina.

Jakub Hrůša Conductor
Hélène Grimaud Piano
Bamberger Symphoniker

Robert Schumann: Konzert für Klavier und Orchester a-Moll op. 54
Bedřich Smetana: »Má vlast« (»Mein Vaterland«, Auszüge)

Scintillating fusion of nations! A contemporary raved about Smetana: »Richly knowledgeable, he had seen much, suffered much, and was a skilled and exciting storyteller.« The great Czech composer was fascinated by his homeland’s wonderful landscapes and wealth of legends. His magnificent national epic »Má vlast«, written between 1874 and 1879, creates a portrait of some of these scenes and myths. Our musical journey starts at the »Vyšehrad«, where it seems a medieval bard is evoking the royal castle’s glorious past. This is followed by the deathless »earworm« of the Vltava theme: Smetana’s music atmospherically traces the course of the river from its source to its mouth. The next tone poem revolves around the legendary warrior maiden »Šárka«, who leads a bloodthirsty campaign of revenge against unfaithful lovers – after first arousing the curiosity of men through her wiles. Finally, there is the atmospheric »From Bohemia’s Woods and Fields«, a light-hearted foray into scenes of pastoral beauty. Hélène Grimaud, too, believes nature to be the »humanity’s most important muse« – and her performances are also always driven by »curiosity and a sense of adventure«. Together with our orchestra, this exceptional artist will interpret the last piano concerto by Bartók, who, as an avid researcher of folk music, spent decades travelling across his native Hungary and to other countries with a phonograph. He completed his Third Piano Concerto in 1945 shortly before his death in exile in the USA – and it is imbued with his longing for his homeland and his love of nature: we hear a Hungarian children’s song, as well as the »music of a night filled with birds and insects«, which Bartók had noted down in North Carolina.

Jakub Hrůša Conductor
Hélène Grimaud Piano
Bamberger Symphoniker

Robert Schumann: Konzert für Klavier und Orchester a-Moll op. 54
Bedřich Smetana: »Má vlast« (»Mein Vaterland«, Auszüge)

Scintillating fusion of nations! A contemporary raved about Smetana: »Richly knowledgeable, he had seen much, suffered much, and was a skilled and exciting storyteller.« The great Czech composer was fascinated by his homeland’s wonderful landscapes and wealth of legends. His magnificent national epic »Má vlast«, written between 1874 and 1879, creates a portrait of some of these scenes and myths. Our musical journey starts at the »Vyšehrad«, where it seems a medieval bard is evoking the royal castle’s glorious past. This is followed by the deathless »earworm« of the Vltava theme: Smetana’s music atmospherically traces the course of the river from its source to its mouth. The next tone poem revolves around the legendary warrior maiden »Šárka«, who leads a bloodthirsty campaign of revenge against unfaithful lovers – after first arousing the curiosity of men through her wiles. Finally, there is the atmospheric »From Bohemia’s Woods and Fields«, a light-hearted foray into scenes of pastoral beauty. Hélène Grimaud, too, believes nature to be the »humanity’s most important muse« – and her performances are also always driven by »curiosity and a sense of adventure«. Together with our orchestra, this exceptional artist will interpret the last piano concerto by Bartók, who, as an avid researcher of folk music, spent decades travelling across his native Hungary and to other countries with a phonograph. He completed his Third Piano Concerto in 1945 shortly before his death in exile in the USA – and it is imbued with his longing for his homeland and his love of nature: we hear a Hungarian children’s song, as well as the »music of a night filled with birds and insects«, which Bartók had noted down in North Carolina.

Jakub Hrůša Conductor
Christina Landshamer Soprano
Catriona Morison Alto
Wiener Singakademie (choir director: Heinz Ferlesch)
Bamberger Symphoniker

Programme
Gustav Mahler Symphonie Nr. 2 c-Moll

This concert ventures into the thrilling spheres of an epic work by the symphonic philosopher Gustav Mahler, who once confessed: »When I listen to music – even while conducting – I often hear very specific answers to all my questions, and am completely clear and certain.« Mahler was always interested in the intellectual currents of his time, and had a thirst for knowledge that naturally was reflected in his music. The musicologist Constantin Floros has referred to this attitude as »Mahler’s intellectual curiosity«. Mahler’s thinking and composing usually centred on philosophical, religious, and existential questions. His Second Symphony, premiered in 1895 and nicknamed the »Resurrection Symphony«, is one of the symphonies that explores his worldview. The eternal human questions of death and resurrection are evoked in a massive symphonic fresco – incorporating the human voice as the »ultima ratio« of musical annunciation. Mahler called the poignant opening movement »Totenfeier« (funeral ceremony); in the second movement, the light-hearted melodies of the Ländler, a country dance, are heard; and the Scherzo presents a transformation of the song from »Des Knaben Wunderhorn« about St. Anthony’s futile sermon to the fish – until finally the chant of the »Urlicht« (primal light) rises up, intensifying into fervent pleading: »Ich bin von Gott und will wieder zu Gott« (»I am of God and want to return to God«). The Finale, which Mahler says represents a »Great Summons«, at first is characterised by highly agitated outbursts, including an offstage orchestra. But then, as if from another world, a lonely birdcall from the piccolo is heard, and Klopstock’s »Resurrection Ode« rises as if by magic – very cautiously at first, but Mahler gradually increases the tension as the music progresses, coming to a gripping climax in the words: »Sterben werd’ ich, um zu leben! Auferstehen, ja auferstehen wirst du!« – »I will die in order to live! You will be resurrected, yes, resurrected!«

Jakub Hrůša Conductor
Hélène Grimaud Piano
Bamberger Symphoniker

Robert Schumann: Konzert für Klavier und Orchester a-Moll op. 54
Bedřich Smetana: »Má vlast« (»Mein Vaterland«, Auszüge)

Scintillating fusion of nations! A contemporary raved about Smetana: »Richly knowledgeable, he had seen much, suffered much, and was a skilled and exciting storyteller.« The great Czech composer was fascinated by his homeland’s wonderful landscapes and wealth of legends. His magnificent national epic »Má vlast«, written between 1874 and 1879, creates a portrait of some of these scenes and myths. Our musical journey starts at the »Vyšehrad«, where it seems a medieval bard is evoking the royal castle’s glorious past. This is followed by the deathless »earworm« of the Vltava theme: Smetana’s music atmospherically traces the course of the river from its source to its mouth. The next tone poem revolves around the legendary warrior maiden »Šárka«, who leads a bloodthirsty campaign of revenge against unfaithful lovers – after first arousing the curiosity of men through her wiles. Finally, there is the atmospheric »From Bohemia’s Woods and Fields«, a light-hearted foray into scenes of pastoral beauty. Hélène Grimaud, too, believes nature to be the »humanity’s most important muse« – and her performances are also always driven by »curiosity and a sense of adventure«. Together with our orchestra, this exceptional artist will interpret the last piano concerto by Bartók, who, as an avid researcher of folk music, spent decades travelling across his native Hungary and to other countries with a phonograph. He completed his Third Piano Concerto in 1945 shortly before his death in exile in the USA – and it is imbued with his longing for his homeland and his love of nature: we hear a Hungarian children’s song, as well as the »music of a night filled with birds and insects«, which Bartók had noted down in North Carolina.

Jakub Hrůša Conductor
Hélène Grimaud Piano
Bamberger Symphoniker

Robert Schumann: Konzert für Klavier und Orchester a-Moll op. 54
Bedřich Smetana: »Má vlast« (»Mein Vaterland«, Auszüge)

Scintillating fusion of nations! A contemporary raved about Smetana: »Richly knowledgeable, he had seen much, suffered much, and was a skilled and exciting storyteller.« The great Czech composer was fascinated by his homeland’s wonderful landscapes and wealth of legends. His magnificent national epic »Má vlast«, written between 1874 and 1879, creates a portrait of some of these scenes and myths. Our musical journey starts at the »Vyšehrad«, where it seems a medieval bard is evoking the royal castle’s glorious past. This is followed by the deathless »earworm« of the Vltava theme: Smetana’s music atmospherically traces the course of the river from its source to its mouth. The next tone poem revolves around the legendary warrior maiden »Šárka«, who leads a bloodthirsty campaign of revenge against unfaithful lovers – after first arousing the curiosity of men through her wiles. Finally, there is the atmospheric »From Bohemia’s Woods and Fields«, a light-hearted foray into scenes of pastoral beauty. Hélène Grimaud, too, believes nature to be the »humanity’s most important muse« – and her performances are also always driven by »curiosity and a sense of adventure«. Together with our orchestra, this exceptional artist will interpret the last piano concerto by Bartók, who, as an avid researcher of folk music, spent decades travelling across his native Hungary and to other countries with a phonograph. He completed his Third Piano Concerto in 1945 shortly before his death in exile in the USA – and it is imbued with his longing for his homeland and his love of nature: we hear a Hungarian children’s song, as well as the »music of a night filled with birds and insects«, which Bartók had noted down in North Carolina.

Jakub Hrůša conductor
Johanni van Oostrum soprano
Hanna Hipp mezzo-soprano
Nicky Spence tenor
Solomon Howard bass
Philharmonia Orchestra

Programme
Vorísek: Symphony in D
Beethoven: Symphony No.9 (Choral)

Beethoven stretches the scale and structure of the symphonic form further than anyone had dared before him.

And in the final movement he breaks the boundaries of the orchestra itself, invoking the human voice to share his message of brotherhood.

His setting of Schiller’s Ode to Joy has become an anthem for freedom and fellowship around the world.

Hearing it live is still an exhilarating experience, almost 200 years after its triumphant premiere.

To pave the way for this musical icon, Jakub Hruša has chosen a symphony composed by his compatriot Voríšek just a few years before Beethoven’s.

Voríšek moved to Vienna from his Bohemian home (now in the Czech Republic) with the express hope of meeting Beethoven and establishing himself as a composer.

He succeeded in both, and became firm friends with Schubert, too.

His only symphony is full of melodic invention and contrasts of mood.

Wagner: Lohengrin

Conducted by Jakub Hruša

Cast
Lohengrin: Brandon Jovanovich
Elsa von Brabant: Jennifer Davis
Ortrud: Anna Smirnova
Telramund: Craig Colclough replaces Kostas Smoriginas
King Heinrich: Gábor Bretz
Herald: Derek Welton
Chorus: Royal Opera Chorus

Creative
Company – The Royal Opera
Music – Richard Wagner
Libretto – Richard Wagner
Director – David Alden
Set designer – Paul Steinberg
Costume designer – Gideon Davey
Lighting designer – Adam Silverman
Video designer – Tal Rosner
Movement director – Maxine Braham

David Alden’s acclaimed staging of Wagner’s early masterpiece, first seen in 2018, places the opera in the timeless setting of a bombed-out city – a dystopian world threatened from outside, where the people are looking for both a sense of direction and a new leader.

American heldentenor Brandon Jovanovich leads the cast as the mysterious ‘swan knight’ Lohengrin, sent to defend the accused Elsa von Brabant, under the condition that she must never ask his true identity. Former Jette Parker Young Artists Jennifer Davis and Kostas Smoriginas return to Covent Garden as Elsa and the wicked Friedrich von Telramund, while Anna Smirnova and Maida Hundeling share the role of Telramund’s evil wife Ortrud. Jakub Hrůša conducts.

Wagner: Lohengrin

Conducted by Jakub Hruša

Cast
Lohengrin: Brandon Jovanovich
Elsa von Brabant: Jennifer Davis
Ortrud: Anna Smirnova
Telramund: Craig Colclough
King Heinrich: Gábor Bretz
Herald: Derek Welton
Chorus: Royal Opera Chorus

Creative
Company – The Royal Opera
Music – Richard Wagner
Libretto – Richard Wagner
Director – David Alden
Set designer – Paul Steinberg
Costume designer – Gideon Davey
Lighting designer – Adam Silverman
Video designer – Tal Rosner
Movement director – Maxine Braham

David Alden’s acclaimed staging of Wagner’s early masterpiece, first seen in 2018, places the opera in the timeless setting of a bombed-out city – a dystopian world threatened from outside, where the people are looking for both a sense of direction and a new leader.

American heldentenor Brandon Jovanovich leads the cast as the mysterious ‘swan knight’ Lohengrin, sent to defend the accused Elsa von Brabant, under the condition that she must never ask his true identity. Former Jette Parker Young Artists Jennifer Davis and Kostas Smoriginas return to Covent Garden as Elsa and the wicked Friedrich von Telramund, while Anna Smirnova and Maida Hundeling share the role of Telramund’s evil wife Ortrud. Jakub Hrůša conducts.

Wagner: Lohengrin

Conducted by Jakub Hruša

Cast
Lohengrin: Brandon Jovanovich
Elsa von Brabant: Jennifer Davis
Ortrud: Anna Smirnova
Telramund: Craig Colclough
King Heinrich: Gábor Bretz
Herald: Derek Welton
Chorus: Royal Opera Chorus

Creative
Company – The Royal Opera
Music – Richard Wagner
Libretto – Richard Wagner
Director – David Alden
Set designer – Paul Steinberg
Costume designer – Gideon Davey
Lighting designer – Adam Silverman
Video designer – Tal Rosner
Movement director – Maxine Braham

David Alden’s acclaimed staging of Wagner’s early masterpiece, first seen in 2018, places the opera in the timeless setting of a bombed-out city – a dystopian world threatened from outside, where the people are looking for both a sense of direction and a new leader.

American heldentenor Brandon Jovanovich leads the cast as the mysterious ‘swan knight’ Lohengrin, sent to defend the accused Elsa von Brabant, under the condition that she must never ask his true identity. Former Jette Parker Young Artists Jennifer Davis and Kostas Smoriginas return to Covent Garden as Elsa and the wicked Friedrich von Telramund, while Anna Smirnova and Maida Hundeling share the role of Telramund’s evil wife Ortrud. Jakub Hrůša conducts.

Wagner: Lohengrin

Conducted by Jakub Hruša

Cast
Lohengrin: Brandon Jovanovich
Elsa von Brabant: Jennifer Davis
Ortrud: Anna Smirnova
Telramund: Craig Colclough
King Heinrich: Gábor Bretz
Herald: Derek Welton
Chorus: Royal Opera Chorus

Creative
Company – The Royal Opera
Music – Richard Wagner
Libretto – Richard Wagner
Director – David Alden
Set designer – Paul Steinberg
Costume designer – Gideon Davey
Lighting designer – Adam Silverman
Video designer – Tal Rosner
Movement director – Maxine Braham

David Alden’s acclaimed staging of Wagner’s early masterpiece, first seen in 2018, places the opera in the timeless setting of a bombed-out city – a dystopian world threatened from outside, where the people are looking for both a sense of direction and a new leader.

American heldentenor Brandon Jovanovich leads the cast as the mysterious ‘swan knight’ Lohengrin, sent to defend the accused Elsa von Brabant, under the condition that she must never ask his true identity. Former Jette Parker Young Artists Jennifer Davis and Kostas Smoriginas return to Covent Garden as Elsa and the wicked Friedrich von Telramund, while Anna Smirnova and Maida Hundeling share the role of Telramund’s evil wife Ortrud. Jakub Hrůša conducts.

Wagner: Lohengrin

Conducted by Jakub Hruša

Cast
Lohengrin: Brandon Jovanovich
Elsa von Brabant: Jennifer Davis
Ortrud: Anna Smirnova
Telramund: Craig Colclough
King Heinrich: Gábor Bretz
Herald: Derek Welton
Chorus: Royal Opera Chorus

Creative
Company – The Royal Opera
Music – Richard Wagner
Libretto – Richard Wagner
Director – David Alden
Set designer – Paul Steinberg
Costume designer – Gideon Davey
Lighting designer – Adam Silverman
Video designer – Tal Rosner
Movement director – Maxine Braham

David Alden’s acclaimed staging of Wagner’s early masterpiece, first seen in 2018, places the opera in the timeless setting of a bombed-out city – a dystopian world threatened from outside, where the people are looking for both a sense of direction and a new leader.

American heldentenor Brandon Jovanovich leads the cast as the mysterious ‘swan knight’ Lohengrin, sent to defend the accused Elsa von Brabant, under the condition that she must never ask his true identity. Former Jette Parker Young Artists Jennifer Davis and Kostas Smoriginas return to Covent Garden as Elsa and the wicked Friedrich von Telramund, while Anna Smirnova and Maida Hundeling share the role of Telramund’s evil wife Ortrud. Jakub Hrůša conducts.

Wagner: Lohengrin

Conducted by Jakub Hruša

Cast
Lohengrin: Brandon Jovanovich
Elsa von Brabant: Jennifer Davis
Ortrud: Anna Smirnova
Telramund: Craig Colclough
King Heinrich: Gábor Bretz
Herald: Derek Welton
Chorus: Royal Opera Chorus

Creative
Company – The Royal Opera
Music – Richard Wagner
Libretto – Richard Wagner
Director – David Alden
Set designer – Paul Steinberg
Costume designer – Gideon Davey
Lighting designer – Adam Silverman
Video designer – Tal Rosner
Movement director – Maxine Braham

David Alden’s acclaimed staging of Wagner’s early masterpiece, first seen in 2018, places the opera in the timeless setting of a bombed-out city – a dystopian world threatened from outside, where the people are looking for both a sense of direction and a new leader.

American heldentenor Brandon Jovanovich leads the cast as the mysterious ‘swan knight’ Lohengrin, sent to defend the accused Elsa von Brabant, under the condition that she must never ask his true identity. Former Jette Parker Young Artists Jennifer Davis and Kostas Smoriginas return to Covent Garden as Elsa and the wicked Friedrich von Telramund, while Anna Smirnova and Maida Hundeling share the role of Telramund’s evil wife Ortrud. Jakub Hrůša conducts.

Wagner: Lohengrin

Conducted by Jakub Hruša

Cast
Lohengrin: Brandon Jovanovich
Elsa von Brabant: Jennifer Davis
Ortrud: Anna Smirnova
Telramund: Craig Colclough
King Heinrich: Gábor Bretz
Herald: Derek Welton
Chorus: Royal Opera Chorus

Creative
Company – The Royal Opera
Music – Richard Wagner
Libretto – Richard Wagner
Director – David Alden
Set designer – Paul Steinberg
Costume designer – Gideon Davey
Lighting designer – Adam Silverman
Video designer – Tal Rosner
Movement director – Maxine Braham

David Alden’s acclaimed staging of Wagner’s early masterpiece, first seen in 2018, places the opera in the timeless setting of a bombed-out city – a dystopian world threatened from outside, where the people are looking for both a sense of direction and a new leader.

American heldentenor Brandon Jovanovich leads the cast as the mysterious ‘swan knight’ Lohengrin, sent to defend the accused Elsa von Brabant, under the condition that she must never ask his true identity. Former Jette Parker Young Artists Jennifer Davis and Kostas Smoriginas return to Covent Garden as Elsa and the wicked Friedrich von Telramund, while Anna Smirnova and Maida Hundeling share the role of Telramund’s evil wife Ortrud. Jakub Hrůša conducts.

Jakub Hrůša Conductor
Kian Soltani Violoncello
Tonhalle-Orchester Zürich

Programme
Dvořák Cellokonzert h-Moll op. 104
Nikolaevič Smirnov Pastorale op. 15
Lutosławski Konzert für Orchester – Prélude

Mit Karamell wurde der Celloklang von Kian Soltani verglichen. Unter den jungen aufstrebenden Solisten gehört der Österreicher längst zu den weltweit meistbeachteten – beste Voraussetzungen also für eines der zentralen Cellokonzerte überhaupt, das von Dvořák. Am Pult steht einer der Landsleute des Komponisten: Jakub Hrůša ist regelmässig bei uns zu Gast. Dmitrij Smirnov gehört zu den weniger bekannten, aber eigenständigsten Stimmen der späten Sowjetunion. Als junger Mann schrieb er 1975 in Moskau seine Pastorale, in der er den Klängen der Natur nachspürte. Besonderes Augenmerk legte er auf den Vogelgesang, indem er jeder Art ein eigenes Instrument zuordnete. Zwanzig Jahre zuvor machte das «Konzert für Orchester» Witold Lutosławski mit einem Schlag zum bedeutendsten polnischen Komponisten der Gegenwart.

Jakub Hrůša Conductor
Kian Soltani Violoncello
Tonhalle-Orchester Zürich

Programme
Dvořák Cellokonzert h-Moll op. 104
Nikolaevič Smirnov Pastorale op. 15
Lutosławski Konzert für Orchester – Prélude

Mit Karamell wurde der Celloklang von Kian Soltani verglichen. Unter den jungen aufstrebenden Solisten gehört der Österreicher längst zu den weltweit meistbeachteten – beste Voraussetzungen also für eines der zentralen Cellokonzerte überhaupt, das von Dvořák. Am Pult steht einer der Landsleute des Komponisten: Jakub Hrůša ist regelmässig bei uns zu Gast. Dmitrij Smirnov gehört zu den weniger bekannten, aber eigenständigsten Stimmen der späten Sowjetunion. Als junger Mann schrieb er 1975 in Moskau seine Pastorale, in der er den Klängen der Natur nachspürte. Besonderes Augenmerk legte er auf den Vogelgesang, indem er jeder Art ein eigenes Instrument zuordnete. Zwanzig Jahre zuvor machte das «Konzert für Orchester» Witold Lutosławski mit einem Schlag zum bedeutendsten polnischen Komponisten der Gegenwart.

Jakub Hrůša Conductor
Kian Soltani Violoncello
Tonhalle-Orchester Zürich

Programme
Dvořák Cellokonzert h-Moll op. 104
Nikolaevič Smirnov Pastorale op. 15
Lutosławski Konzert für Orchester – Prélude

Mit Karamell wurde der Celloklang von Kian Soltani verglichen. Unter den jungen aufstrebenden Solisten gehört der Österreicher längst zu den weltweit meistbeachteten – beste Voraussetzungen also für eines der zentralen Cellokonzerte überhaupt, das von Dvořák. Am Pult steht einer der Landsleute des Komponisten: Jakub Hrůša ist regelmässig bei uns zu Gast. Dmitrij Smirnov gehört zu den weniger bekannten, aber eigenständigsten Stimmen der späten Sowjetunion. Als junger Mann schrieb er 1975 in Moskau seine Pastorale, in der er den Klängen der Natur nachspürte. Besonderes Augenmerk legte er auf den Vogelgesang, indem er jeder Art ein eigenes Instrument zuordnete. Zwanzig Jahre zuvor machte das «Konzert für Orchester» Witold Lutosławski mit einem Schlag zum bedeutendsten polnischen Komponisten der Gegenwart.

Jakub Hrůša Conductor
Kian Soltani Violoncello
Tonhalle-Orchester Zürich

Programme
Dvořák Cellokonzert h-Moll op. 104
Nikolaevič Smirnov Pastorale op. 15
Lutosławski Konzert für Orchester – Prélude

Mit Karamell wurde der Celloklang von Kian Soltani verglichen. Unter den jungen aufstrebenden Solisten gehört der Österreicher längst zu den weltweit meistbeachteten – beste Voraussetzungen also für eines der zentralen Cellokonzerte überhaupt, das von Dvořák. Am Pult steht einer der Landsleute des Komponisten: Jakub Hrůša ist regelmässig bei uns zu Gast. Dmitrij Smirnov gehört zu den weniger bekannten, aber eigenständigsten Stimmen der späten Sowjetunion. Als junger Mann schrieb er 1975 in Moskau seine Pastorale, in der er den Klängen der Natur nachspürte. Besonderes Augenmerk legte er auf den Vogelgesang, indem er jeder Art ein eigenes Instrument zuordnete. Zwanzig Jahre zuvor machte das «Konzert für Orchester» Witold Lutosławski mit einem Schlag zum bedeutendsten polnischen Komponisten der Gegenwart.

Jakub Hrůša Conductor
Bamberger Symphoniker

AN INTERDISCIPLINARY WAGNER LABORATORY

Richard Wagner’s music has long been a fixture in the concerts of the Bamberg Symphony Orchestra. Under Jonathan Nott, we gave concert performances of almost all of Wagner’s operas. In 2013 we were guests at the Lucerne Festival, performing the entire »Ring des Nibelungen«. The orchestra’s history likewise repeatedly reveals points of contact, from a »Walküre« under Joseph Keilberth, which we performed in Barcelona in 1955 as a Bayreuth Festival guest performance, to our predecessor orchestra at the German Opera House in Prague, which on 1 January 1914 gave the first performance of »Parsifal« outside Bayreuth, following the expiry of the copyright restricting performances of the work to the Festspielhaus.

This year we would like to give our curiosity full rein in exploring the effects of Wagner’s music. In a concert series inspired by the recent book by New York music critic and author Alex Ross, »The World After Wagner« will be brought to life in a kind of musical laboratory. Music, texts and images dealing with the Wagner phenomenon will be interwoven in an interdisciplinary fashion – a kind of tribute to Wagner’s concept of the »Gesamtkunstwerk«. In addition, we will perform the »Ring Without Words« in Lorin Maazel’s popular version and show Fritz Lang’s legendary 1924 silent film about »Siegfried« – accompanied live by the original film music.

We hope to (re)awaken your curiosity about Wagner and look forward to embarking on this journey of discovery together!

Jakub Hrůša Conductor

SONDERKONZERT »Die Welt nach Wagner«

Seit langem ist die Musik Richard Wagners ein Fixpunkt in der Konzerttätigkeit der Bamberger Symphoniker: In der Ära Jonathan Nott führten wir in Bamberg fast alle Wagner-Opern in konzertanter Form auf. 2013 waren wir mit dem gesamten »Ring des Nibelungen« beim Lucerne Festival zu Gast. Auch die Orchester-geschichte zeigt immer wieder Anknüpfungspunkte auf, von einer »Walküre« unter Joseph Keilberth, die wir 1955 als Gastspiel der Bayreuther Festspiele in Barcelona aufführten, bis hin zu unserem Vorgänger-Orchester im Deutschen Opernhaus in Prag, das am 1. Januar 1914 die erste Aufführung des »Parsifal« außerhalb Bayreuths nach Ablauf der Schutzfrist spielte.

Dieses Jahr möchten wir mit großer Neugier der Wirkung der Wagnerschen Musik nachspüren. In einer Konzertreihe, die durch das aktuelle Buch des New Yorker Musikkritikers und Autors Alex Ross inspiriert ist, soll die »Die Welt nach Wagner« in einer Art Labor zum Klingen gebracht werden. Musik, Texte und Bilder zum Phänomen Wagner werden interdisziplinär verwoben – im Grunde also auch eine Art Hommage an das »Gesamtkunstwerk«. Dazu führen wir den »Ring ohne Worte« in der beliebten Fassung von Lorin Maazel auf und zeigen den legendären Stummfilm von Fritz Lang über »Siegfried« aus dem Jahr 1924 – live von der originalen Filmmusik begleitet.

Wir hoffen, auch Ihre Neugier auf Wagner (neu) zu wecken und sind gespannt auf die gemeinsame Entdeckungsreise.

Jakub Hrůša Conductor
Bamberger Symphoniker

SONDERKONZERT »Der Ring ohne Worte«

»The Ring Without Words« – the title alone is enough to trigger one’s curiosity! This programme revolves around Wagner’s timeless parable of power and love, the monumental drama of the »Ring of the Nibelung«. Loriot once commented: »The perpetrators in the most powerful drama in the history of music are actually quite nice people – it is just that a common passion becomes their undoing. In the blind, callous pursuit of profit, they destroy themselves and their world.« We will perform a fascinating fast-forward through the four operas of this opus magnum, entirely without sets, singers or costumes, that was created in 1987 by the famous conductor Lorin Maazel, who said, »The orchestral score itself is the ‘Ring’, encoded in sound. When you decipher this code, it turns out to be a story, a legend, a song, a philosophy – in countless cosmic overtones and human undertones.« Maazel’s »symphonic synthesis« aims to bring this »sound code« closer to the audience. And indeed, the orchestral decoction has no need of words: prominent vocal parts are taken over by the instruments, which present the many catchy melodies and leitmotifs that Wagner called »emotional signposts« for the listeners. The music follows the operatic chronology of the »festival for the stage« exactly, from the first note of »Rheingold« to the final chord of »Götterdämmerung«. The performance of this great symphony of music theatre is truly something to look forward to – a concert of just under 75 minutes, both for curious newcomers to Wagner’s world and for die-hard fans who simply don’t have the time for a 15-hour »Ring« marathon!

»Der Ring ohne Worte« – allein der Titel macht schon neugierig auf das, was in diesem Konzert zu erwarten ist. Alles dreht sich um Wagners zeitlose Parabel der Macht und der Liebe – das monumentale Weltendrama vom »Ring des Nibelungen«, das Loriot einmal mit den Worten kommentierte: »Die Täter im gewaltigsten Drama der Musikgeschichte sind eigentlich ganz nette Leute. Nur eine gemeinsame Leidenschaft wird ihnen zum Verhängnis. In blindem, lieblosem Gewinnstreben vernichten sie sich selbst und ihre Welt.« Wir spielen einen faszinierenden Schnelldurchlauf durch die vier Opern des Opus Magnum, ganz ohne Bühnenbilder, Sänger und Kostüme – 1987 erstellt vom berühmten Dirigenten Lorin Maazel, der meinte: »Die Orchesterpartitur selbst ist der ›Ring‹, verschlüsselt in einen Klang-Code. Entziffert man diesen Code, so entpuppt er sich als eine Geschichte, eine Sage, ein Lied, eine Philosophie – in zahllosen kosmischen Obertönen und menschlichen Untertönen.« Diesen »Klang-Code« wollte er in seiner »symphonischen Synthese« dem Publikum näher bringen. Und das orchestrale Destillat kommt auch gut ohne Worte aus: Dort, wo man eine der prominenten Gesangspartien vermis-sen könnte, übernimmt ein Instrument die Rolle und präsentiert eine der vielen eingängigen Melodien und Leitmotive – welche Wagner als »Gefühlswegweiser« für die Hörer bezeichnete. Die Musik folgt genau der Opern-Chronologie des »Bühnenfestspiels«, vom ersten »Rheingold«-Ton bis zum Schlussakkord der »Götterdämmerung«. Die Aufführung dieser großartigen Musiktheater-Symphonie kann wahrlich mit Spannung erwartet werden – ein knapp 75-minütiges Konzert für alle neugierigen Einsteiger in Wagners Welt und eben- so für eingefleischte Liebhaber, die gerade keine Zeit für einen 15 Stunden langen »Ring«-Marathon haben!

Jakub Hrůša Conductor
Bamberger Symphoniker

SONDERKONZERT »Der Ring ohne Worte«

»The Ring Without Words« – the title alone is enough to trigger one’s curiosity! This programme revolves around Wagner’s timeless parable of power and love, the monumental drama of the »Ring of the Nibelung«. Loriot once commented: »The perpetrators in the most powerful drama in the history of music are actually quite nice people – it is just that a common passion becomes their undoing. In the blind, callous pursuit of profit, they destroy themselves and their world.« We will perform a fascinating fast-forward through the four operas of this opus magnum, entirely without sets, singers or costumes, that was created in 1987 by the famous conductor Lorin Maazel, who said, »The orchestral score itself is the ‘Ring’, encoded in sound. When you decipher this code, it turns out to be a story, a legend, a song, a philosophy – in countless cosmic overtones and human undertones.« Maazel’s »symphonic synthesis« aims to bring this »sound code« closer to the audience. And indeed, the orchestral decoction has no need of words: prominent vocal parts are taken over by the instruments, which present the many catchy melodies and leitmotifs that Wagner called »emotional signposts« for the listeners. The music follows the operatic chronology of the »festival for the stage« exactly, from the first note of »Rheingold« to the final chord of »Götterdämmerung«. The performance of this great symphony of music theatre is truly something to look forward to – a concert of just under 75 minutes, both for curious newcomers to Wagner’s world and for die-hard fans who simply don’t have the time for a 15-hour »Ring« marathon!

»Der Ring ohne Worte« – allein der Titel macht schon neugierig auf das, was in diesem Konzert zu erwarten ist. Alles dreht sich um Wagners zeitlose Parabel der Macht und der Liebe – das monumentale Weltendrama vom »Ring des Nibelungen«, das Loriot einmal mit den Worten kommentierte: »Die Täter im gewaltigsten Drama der Musikgeschichte sind eigentlich ganz nette Leute. Nur eine gemeinsame Leidenschaft wird ihnen zum Verhängnis. In blindem, lieblosem Gewinnstreben vernichten sie sich selbst und ihre Welt.« Wir spielen einen faszinierenden Schnelldurchlauf durch die vier Opern des Opus Magnum, ganz ohne Bühnenbilder, Sänger und Kostüme – 1987 erstellt vom berühmten Dirigenten Lorin Maazel, der meinte: »Die Orchesterpartitur selbst ist der ›Ring‹, verschlüsselt in einen Klang-Code. Entziffert man diesen Code, so entpuppt er sich als eine Geschichte, eine Sage, ein Lied, eine Philosophie – in zahllosen kosmischen Obertönen und menschlichen Untertönen.« Diesen »Klang-Code« wollte er in seiner »symphonischen Synthese« dem Publikum näher bringen. Und das orchestrale Destillat kommt auch gut ohne Worte aus: Dort, wo man eine der prominenten Gesangspartien vermis-sen könnte, übernimmt ein Instrument die Rolle und präsentiert eine der vielen eingängigen Melodien und Leitmotive – welche Wagner als »Gefühlswegweiser« für die Hörer bezeichnete. Die Musik folgt genau der Opern-Chronologie des »Bühnenfestspiels«, vom ersten »Rheingold«-Ton bis zum Schlussakkord der »Götterdämmerung«. Die Aufführung dieser großartigen Musiktheater-Symphonie kann wahrlich mit Spannung erwartet werden – ein knapp 75-minütiges Konzert für alle neugierigen Einsteiger in Wagners Welt und eben- so für eingefleischte Liebhaber, die gerade keine Zeit für einen 15 Stunden langen »Ring«-Marathon haben!

Jakub Hrůša Conductor
Barrie Kosky Director
Rufus Didwiszus Sets
Victoria Behr Costumes
Franck Evin Lighting
Christian Arseni Dramaturgy

CAST
Jens Larsen Savjol Prokofjevič Dikoj
David Butt Philip Boris Grigorjevič
Evelyn Herlitzius Marfa Ignatěvna Kabanová (Kabanicha)
Jaroslav Březina Tichon Ivanyč Kabanov
Corinne Winters Katěrina (Káťa)
Benjamin Hulett Váňa Kudrjáš
Jarmila Balážová Varvara
Michael Mofidian Kuligin
Concert Association of the Vienna State Opera Chorus
Huw Rhys James Chorus Master
Vienna Philharmonic

‘I lived free like a bird’: Káťa Kabanová confides wistfully to her sister-in-law Varvara how different her life used to be. She tells her how during mass at church she experienced celestial visions that moved her to tears, and how she had dreams of soaring high into the sky. The luminous, increasingly ecstatic music to which Janáček sets Káťa’s reminiscences reveals not only the figure’s rich interior life but also an irrepressible urge for freedom. But since her marriage to Tichon the fire within Káťa is at risk of being smothered entirely. The situation she lives in is claustrophobic. Home is ruled despotically by her mother-in-law Kabanicha, the widow of a merchant. Conscious of material dependencies and in the name of tradition and morals, she makes sure that the required subservience is shown by woman to husband and young to old. Ground down by his mother’s constant carping, Tichon lacks the independence to be able to give his wife what she needs and seeks refuge in alcohol. When he departs on a journey for a few days, Varvara, who is aware of the mutual attraction between Káťa and the unmarried Boris, arranges a first night-time tryst for them. This uncaps all Káťa’s pent-up emotions: behind the desperate intensity with which she gives herself to Boris erupt needs that go far beyond a yearning for fulfilled love or shared passion. To Káťa, to go on living now seems more impossible than ever.

Leoš Janáček forged the libretto to Káťa Kabanová from a Czech translation of Alexander Ostrovsky’s play The Storm (1859), which is set in a small-town milieu dominated by wealthy merchants in mid-19th century Russia. Janáček dispensed with many of the specific socio-historical details — and thus also a substantial part of the concrete social criticism that characterizes Ostrovsky’s play. The opera concentrates on the protagonist and the individuals who directly determine her fate. Yet beyond the microcosm of the family, the social environment remains a palpable determining factor.

We are in a village or small town where a traditional value system, as upheld by Kabanicha, has degenerated into repressive convention. An atmosphere of coldness and torpor prevails, colliding with any desire for individual realization or true enjoyment of life. At the same time, the conflict in which Káťa finds herself through her relationship with Boris is an internal one, as she has made the moral yardsticks of her environment so much her own that a crisis of conscience is inevitable. Káťa articulates little of what motivates or oppresses her, or what she yearns for, and is perhaps largely unaware of it — something that makes the figure so true-to-life — but hypocrisy is foreign to her. Unlike Varvara and her lover Kudrjáš, she is unable to blithely disregard internalized moral norms. Even in Act I, the memory of her dreams of flying suddenly turns into panicstricken fear of the ‘sin’ into which desire for another man threatens to plunge her. In Act III, as a storm rages (outdoors as well as inside Káťa), her feelings of guilt impel her to confess to the undiscovered betrayal of her marriage. Káťa is imprisoned in a society in which she cannot exist; she will ultimately choose death over this mental and spiritual violation.

Janáček brings to his portrayal of Káťa the sympathy and subtle sensitivity that he devotes — eschewing all stereotypes — to all his major female figures. First performed in Brno in 1921, Káťa Kabanová marks the beginning of the composer’s final, extraordinarily productive decade. Janáček had now found his unmistakable language as a musical dramatist — a language that conveys the characters and situations, psychology and atmosphere in highly concentrated form, and in its naked immediacy and power gets directly under the listener’s skin.

Christian Arseni
Translation: Sophie Kidd

Jakub Hrůša Conductor
Barrie Kosky Director
Rufus Didwiszus Sets
Victoria Behr Costumes
Franck Evin Lighting
Christian Arseni Dramaturgy

CAST
Jens Larsen Savjol Prokofjevič Dikoj
David Butt Philip Boris Grigorjevič
Evelyn Herlitzius Marfa Ignatěvna Kabanová (Kabanicha)
Jaroslav Březina Tichon Ivanyč Kabanov
Corinne Winters Katěrina (Káťa)
Benjamin Hulett Váňa Kudrjáš
Jarmila Balážová Varvara
Michael Mofidian Kuligin
Concert Association of the Vienna State Opera Chorus
Huw Rhys James Chorus Master
Vienna Philharmonic

‘I lived free like a bird’: Káťa Kabanová confides wistfully to her sister-in-law Varvara how different her life used to be. She tells her how during mass at church she experienced celestial visions that moved her to tears, and how she had dreams of soaring high into the sky. The luminous, increasingly ecstatic music to which Janáček sets Káťa’s reminiscences reveals not only the figure’s rich interior life but also an irrepressible urge for freedom. But since her marriage to Tichon the fire within Káťa is at risk of being smothered entirely. The situation she lives in is claustrophobic. Home is ruled despotically by her mother-in-law Kabanicha, the widow of a merchant. Conscious of material dependencies and in the name of tradition and morals, she makes sure that the required subservience is shown by woman to husband and young to old. Ground down by his mother’s constant carping, Tichon lacks the independence to be able to give his wife what she needs and seeks refuge in alcohol. When he departs on a journey for a few days, Varvara, who is aware of the mutual attraction between Káťa and the unmarried Boris, arranges a first night-time tryst for them. This uncaps all Káťa’s pent-up emotions: behind the desperate intensity with which she gives herself to Boris erupt needs that go far beyond a yearning for fulfilled love or shared passion. To Káťa, to go on living now seems more impossible than ever.

Leoš Janáček forged the libretto to Káťa Kabanová from a Czech translation of Alexander Ostrovsky’s play The Storm (1859), which is set in a small-town milieu dominated by wealthy merchants in mid-19th century Russia. Janáček dispensed with many of the specific socio-historical details — and thus also a substantial part of the concrete social criticism that characterizes Ostrovsky’s play. The opera concentrates on the protagonist and the individuals who directly determine her fate. Yet beyond the microcosm of the family, the social environment remains a palpable determining factor.

We are in a village or small town where a traditional value system, as upheld by Kabanicha, has degenerated into repressive convention. An atmosphere of coldness and torpor prevails, colliding with any desire for individual realization or true enjoyment of life. At the same time, the conflict in which Káťa finds herself through her relationship with Boris is an internal one, as she has made the moral yardsticks of her environment so much her own that a crisis of conscience is inevitable. Káťa articulates little of what motivates or oppresses her, or what she yearns for, and is perhaps largely unaware of it — something that makes the figure so true-to-life — but hypocrisy is foreign to her. Unlike Varvara and her lover Kudrjáš, she is unable to blithely disregard internalized moral norms. Even in Act I, the memory of her dreams of flying suddenly turns into panicstricken fear of the ‘sin’ into which desire for another man threatens to plunge her. In Act III, as a storm rages (outdoors as well as inside Káťa), her feelings of guilt impel her to confess to the undiscovered betrayal of her marriage. Káťa is imprisoned in a society in which she cannot exist; she will ultimately choose death over this mental and spiritual violation.

Janáček brings to his portrayal of Káťa the sympathy and subtle sensitivity that he devotes — eschewing all stereotypes — to all his major female figures. First performed in Brno in 1921, Káťa Kabanová marks the beginning of the composer’s final, extraordinarily productive decade. Janáček had now found his unmistakable language as a musical dramatist — a language that conveys the characters and situations, psychology and atmosphere in highly concentrated form, and in its naked immediacy and power gets directly under the listener’s skin.

Christian Arseni
Translation: Sophie Kidd

Jakub Hrůša Conductor
Barrie Kosky Director
Rufus Didwiszus Sets
Victoria Behr Costumes
Franck Evin Lighting
Christian Arseni Dramaturgy

CAST
Jens Larsen Savjol Prokofjevič Dikoj
David Butt Philip Boris Grigorjevič
Evelyn Herlitzius Marfa Ignatěvna Kabanová (Kabanicha)
Jaroslav Březina Tichon Ivanyč Kabanov
Corinne Winters Katěrina (Káťa)
Benjamin Hulett Váňa Kudrjáš
Jarmila Balážová Varvara
Michael Mofidian Kuligin
Concert Association of the Vienna State Opera Chorus
Huw Rhys James Chorus Master
Vienna Philharmonic

‘I lived free like a bird’: Káťa Kabanová confides wistfully to her sister-in-law Varvara how different her life used to be. She tells her how during mass at church she experienced celestial visions that moved her to tears, and how she had dreams of soaring high into the sky. The luminous, increasingly ecstatic music to which Janáček sets Káťa’s reminiscences reveals not only the figure’s rich interior life but also an irrepressible urge for freedom. But since her marriage to Tichon the fire within Káťa is at risk of being smothered entirely. The situation she lives in is claustrophobic. Home is ruled despotically by her mother-in-law Kabanicha, the widow of a merchant. Conscious of material dependencies and in the name of tradition and morals, she makes sure that the required subservience is shown by woman to husband and young to old. Ground down by his mother’s constant carping, Tichon lacks the independence to be able to give his wife what she needs and seeks refuge in alcohol. When he departs on a journey for a few days, Varvara, who is aware of the mutual attraction between Káťa and the unmarried Boris, arranges a first night-time tryst for them. This uncaps all Káťa’s pent-up emotions: behind the desperate intensity with which she gives herself to Boris erupt needs that go far beyond a yearning for fulfilled love or shared passion. To Káťa, to go on living now seems more impossible than ever.

Leoš Janáček forged the libretto to Káťa Kabanová from a Czech translation of Alexander Ostrovsky’s play The Storm (1859), which is set in a small-town milieu dominated by wealthy merchants in mid-19th century Russia. Janáček dispensed with many of the specific socio-historical details — and thus also a substantial part of the concrete social criticism that characterizes Ostrovsky’s play. The opera concentrates on the protagonist and the individuals who directly determine her fate. Yet beyond the microcosm of the family, the social environment remains a palpable determining factor.

We are in a village or small town where a traditional value system, as upheld by Kabanicha, has degenerated into repressive convention. An atmosphere of coldness and torpor prevails, colliding with any desire for individual realization or true enjoyment of life. At the same time, the conflict in which Káťa finds herself through her relationship with Boris is an internal one, as she has made the moral yardsticks of her environment so much her own that a crisis of conscience is inevitable. Káťa articulates little of what motivates or oppresses her, or what she yearns for, and is perhaps largely unaware of it — something that makes the figure so true-to-life — but hypocrisy is foreign to her. Unlike Varvara and her lover Kudrjáš, she is unable to blithely disregard internalized moral norms. Even in Act I, the memory of her dreams of flying suddenly turns into panicstricken fear of the ‘sin’ into which desire for another man threatens to plunge her. In Act III, as a storm rages (outdoors as well as inside Káťa), her feelings of guilt impel her to confess to the undiscovered betrayal of her marriage. Káťa is imprisoned in a society in which she cannot exist; she will ultimately choose death over this mental and spiritual violation.

Janáček brings to his portrayal of Káťa the sympathy and subtle sensitivity that he devotes — eschewing all stereotypes — to all his major female figures. First performed in Brno in 1921, Káťa Kabanová marks the beginning of the composer’s final, extraordinarily productive decade. Janáček had now found his unmistakable language as a musical dramatist — a language that conveys the characters and situations, psychology and atmosphere in highly concentrated form, and in its naked immediacy and power gets directly under the listener’s skin.

Christian Arseni
Translation: Sophie Kidd

Jakub Hrůša Conductor
Barrie Kosky Director
Rufus Didwiszus Sets
Victoria Behr Costumes
Franck Evin Lighting
Christian Arseni Dramaturgy

CAST
Jens Larsen Savjol Prokofjevič Dikoj
David Butt Philip Boris Grigorjevič
Evelyn Herlitzius Marfa Ignatěvna Kabanová (Kabanicha)
Jaroslav Březina Tichon Ivanyč Kabanov
Corinne Winters Katěrina (Káťa)
Benjamin Hulett Váňa Kudrjáš
Jarmila Balážová Varvara
Michael Mofidian Kuligin
Concert Association of the Vienna State Opera Chorus
Huw Rhys James Chorus Master
Vienna Philharmonic

‘I lived free like a bird’: Káťa Kabanová confides wistfully to her sister-in-law Varvara how different her life used to be. She tells her how during mass at church she experienced celestial visions that moved her to tears, and how she had dreams of soaring high into the sky. The luminous, increasingly ecstatic music to which Janáček sets Káťa’s reminiscences reveals not only the figure’s rich interior life but also an irrepressible urge for freedom. But since her marriage to Tichon the fire within Káťa is at risk of being smothered entirely. The situation she lives in is claustrophobic. Home is ruled despotically by her mother-in-law Kabanicha, the widow of a merchant. Conscious of material dependencies and in the name of tradition and morals, she makes sure that the required subservience is shown by woman to husband and young to old. Ground down by his mother’s constant carping, Tichon lacks the independence to be able to give his wife what she needs and seeks refuge in alcohol. When he departs on a journey for a few days, Varvara, who is aware of the mutual attraction between Káťa and the unmarried Boris, arranges a first night-time tryst for them. This uncaps all Káťa’s pent-up emotions: behind the desperate intensity with which she gives herself to Boris erupt needs that go far beyond a yearning for fulfilled love or shared passion. To Káťa, to go on living now seems more impossible than ever.

Leoš Janáček forged the libretto to Káťa Kabanová from a Czech translation of Alexander Ostrovsky’s play The Storm (1859), which is set in a small-town milieu dominated by wealthy merchants in mid-19th century Russia. Janáček dispensed with many of the specific socio-historical details — and thus also a substantial part of the concrete social criticism that characterizes Ostrovsky’s play. The opera concentrates on the protagonist and the individuals who directly determine her fate. Yet beyond the microcosm of the family, the social environment remains a palpable determining factor.

We are in a village or small town where a traditional value system, as upheld by Kabanicha, has degenerated into repressive convention. An atmosphere of coldness and torpor prevails, colliding with any desire for individual realization or true enjoyment of life. At the same time, the conflict in which Káťa finds herself through her relationship with Boris is an internal one, as she has made the moral yardsticks of her environment so much her own that a crisis of conscience is inevitable. Káťa articulates little of what motivates or oppresses her, or what she yearns for, and is perhaps largely unaware of it — something that makes the figure so true-to-life — but hypocrisy is foreign to her. Unlike Varvara and her lover Kudrjáš, she is unable to blithely disregard internalized moral norms. Even in Act I, the memory of her dreams of flying suddenly turns into panicstricken fear of the ‘sin’ into which desire for another man threatens to plunge her. In Act III, as a storm rages (outdoors as well as inside Káťa), her feelings of guilt impel her to confess to the undiscovered betrayal of her marriage. Káťa is imprisoned in a society in which she cannot exist; she will ultimately choose death over this mental and spiritual violation.

Janáček brings to his portrayal of Káťa the sympathy and subtle sensitivity that he devotes — eschewing all stereotypes — to all his major female figures. First performed in Brno in 1921, Káťa Kabanová marks the beginning of the composer’s final, extraordinarily productive decade. Janáček had now found his unmistakable language as a musical dramatist — a language that conveys the characters and situations, psychology and atmosphere in highly concentrated form, and in its naked immediacy and power gets directly under the listener’s skin.

Christian Arseni
Translation: Sophie Kidd

Jakub Hrůša Conductor
Barrie Kosky Director
Rufus Didwiszus Sets
Victoria Behr Costumes
Franck Evin Lighting
Christian Arseni Dramaturgy

CAST
Jens Larsen Savjol Prokofjevič Dikoj
David Butt Philip Boris Grigorjevič
Evelyn Herlitzius Marfa Ignatěvna Kabanová (Kabanicha)
Jaroslav Březina Tichon Ivanyč Kabanov
Corinne Winters Katěrina (Káťa)
Benjamin Hulett Váňa Kudrjáš
Jarmila Balážová Varvara
Michael Mofidian Kuligin
Concert Association of the Vienna State Opera Chorus
Huw Rhys James Chorus Master
Vienna Philharmonic

‘I lived free like a bird’: Káťa Kabanová confides wistfully to her sister-in-law Varvara how different her life used to be. She tells her how during mass at church she experienced celestial visions that moved her to tears, and how she had dreams of soaring high into the sky. The luminous, increasingly ecstatic music to which Janáček sets Káťa’s reminiscences reveals not only the figure’s rich interior life but also an irrepressible urge for freedom. But since her marriage to Tichon the fire within Káťa is at risk of being smothered entirely. The situation she lives in is claustrophobic. Home is ruled despotically by her mother-in-law Kabanicha, the widow of a merchant. Conscious of material dependencies and in the name of tradition and morals, she makes sure that the required subservience is shown by woman to husband and young to old. Ground down by his mother’s constant carping, Tichon lacks the independence to be able to give his wife what she needs and seeks refuge in alcohol. When he departs on a journey for a few days, Varvara, who is aware of the mutual attraction between Káťa and the unmarried Boris, arranges a first night-time tryst for them. This uncaps all Káťa’s pent-up emotions: behind the desperate intensity with which she gives herself to Boris erupt needs that go far beyond a yearning for fulfilled love or shared passion. To Káťa, to go on living now seems more impossible than ever.

Leoš Janáček forged the libretto to Káťa Kabanová from a Czech translation of Alexander Ostrovsky’s play The Storm (1859), which is set in a small-town milieu dominated by wealthy merchants in mid-19th century Russia. Janáček dispensed with many of the specific socio-historical details — and thus also a substantial part of the concrete social criticism that characterizes Ostrovsky’s play. The opera concentrates on the protagonist and the individuals who directly determine her fate. Yet beyond the microcosm of the family, the social environment remains a palpable determining factor.

We are in a village or small town where a traditional value system, as upheld by Kabanicha, has degenerated into repressive convention. An atmosphere of coldness and torpor prevails, colliding with any desire for individual realization or true enjoyment of life. At the same time, the conflict in which Káťa finds herself through her relationship with Boris is an internal one, as she has made the moral yardsticks of her environment so much her own that a crisis of conscience is inevitable. Káťa articulates little of what motivates or oppresses her, or what she yearns for, and is perhaps largely unaware of it — something that makes the figure so true-to-life — but hypocrisy is foreign to her. Unlike Varvara and her lover Kudrjáš, she is unable to blithely disregard internalized moral norms. Even in Act I, the memory of her dreams of flying suddenly turns into panicstricken fear of the ‘sin’ into which desire for another man threatens to plunge her. In Act III, as a storm rages (outdoors as well as inside Káťa), her feelings of guilt impel her to confess to the undiscovered betrayal of her marriage. Káťa is imprisoned in a society in which she cannot exist; she will ultimately choose death over this mental and spiritual violation.

Janáček brings to his portrayal of Káťa the sympathy and subtle sensitivity that he devotes — eschewing all stereotypes — to all his major female figures. First performed in Brno in 1921, Káťa Kabanová marks the beginning of the composer’s final, extraordinarily productive decade. Janáček had now found his unmistakable language as a musical dramatist — a language that conveys the characters and situations, psychology and atmosphere in highly concentrated form, and in its naked immediacy and power gets directly under the listener’s skin.

Christian Arseni
Translation: Sophie Kidd

Jakub Hrůša Conductor
Barrie Kosky Director
Rufus Didwiszus Sets
Victoria Behr Costumes
Franck Evin Lighting
Christian Arseni Dramaturgy

CAST
Jens Larsen Savjol Prokofjevič Dikoj
David Butt Philip Boris Grigorjevič
Evelyn Herlitzius Marfa Ignatěvna Kabanová (Kabanicha)
Jaroslav Březina Tichon Ivanyč Kabanov
Corinne Winters Katěrina (Káťa)
Benjamin Hulett Váňa Kudrjáš
Jarmila Balážová Varvara
Michael Mofidian Kuligin
Concert Association of the Vienna State Opera Chorus
Huw Rhys James Chorus Master
Vienna Philharmonic

‘I lived free like a bird’: Káťa Kabanová confides wistfully to her sister-in-law Varvara how different her life used to be. She tells her how during mass at church she experienced celestial visions that moved her to tears, and how she had dreams of soaring high into the sky. The luminous, increasingly ecstatic music to which Janáček sets Káťa’s reminiscences reveals not only the figure’s rich interior life but also an irrepressible urge for freedom. But since her marriage to Tichon the fire within Káťa is at risk of being smothered entirely. The situation she lives in is claustrophobic. Home is ruled despotically by her mother-in-law Kabanicha, the widow of a merchant. Conscious of material dependencies and in the name of tradition and morals, she makes sure that the required subservience is shown by woman to husband and young to old. Ground down by his mother’s constant carping, Tichon lacks the independence to be able to give his wife what she needs and seeks refuge in alcohol. When he departs on a journey for a few days, Varvara, who is aware of the mutual attraction between Káťa and the unmarried Boris, arranges a first night-time tryst for them. This uncaps all Káťa’s pent-up emotions: behind the desperate intensity with which she gives herself to Boris erupt needs that go far beyond a yearning for fulfilled love or shared passion. To Káťa, to go on living now seems more impossible than ever.

Leoš Janáček forged the libretto to Káťa Kabanová from a Czech translation of Alexander Ostrovsky’s play The Storm (1859), which is set in a small-town milieu dominated by wealthy merchants in mid-19th century Russia. Janáček dispensed with many of the specific socio-historical details — and thus also a substantial part of the concrete social criticism that characterizes Ostrovsky’s play. The opera concentrates on the protagonist and the individuals who directly determine her fate. Yet beyond the microcosm of the family, the social environment remains a palpable determining factor.

We are in a village or small town where a traditional value system, as upheld by Kabanicha, has degenerated into repressive convention. An atmosphere of coldness and torpor prevails, colliding with any desire for individual realization or true enjoyment of life. At the same time, the conflict in which Káťa finds herself through her relationship with Boris is an internal one, as she has made the moral yardsticks of her environment so much her own that a crisis of conscience is inevitable. Káťa articulates little of what motivates or oppresses her, or what she yearns for, and is perhaps largely unaware of it — something that makes the figure so true-to-life — but hypocrisy is foreign to her. Unlike Varvara and her lover Kudrjáš, she is unable to blithely disregard internalized moral norms. Even in Act I, the memory of her dreams of flying suddenly turns into panicstricken fear of the ‘sin’ into which desire for another man threatens to plunge her. In Act III, as a storm rages (outdoors as well as inside Káťa), her feelings of guilt impel her to confess to the undiscovered betrayal of her marriage. Káťa is imprisoned in a society in which she cannot exist; she will ultimately choose death over this mental and spiritual violation.

Janáček brings to his portrayal of Káťa the sympathy and subtle sensitivity that he devotes — eschewing all stereotypes — to all his major female figures. First performed in Brno in 1921, Káťa Kabanová marks the beginning of the composer’s final, extraordinarily productive decade. Janáček had now found his unmistakable language as a musical dramatist — a language that conveys the characters and situations, psychology and atmosphere in highly concentrated form, and in its naked immediacy and power gets directly under the listener’s skin.

Christian Arseni
Translation: Sophie Kidd