Notes for: August 2, 2011
Zdenĕk Fibich was a Czech contemporary of Smetana and Dvořák. Like them, he was a prominent composer and musician in Prague in the last half of the nineteenth century. Unlike them, however, he has achieved only modest fame in the outside world. Grove’s Dictionary of Music and Musicians devotes six pages to Fibich, compared with 17 for Smetana and 27 for Dvořák.
Fibich’s limited reputation was probably a result of biographical circumstances rather than the quality of his compositions. At a time of vigorous Czech nationalism, he was an excellent composer who merely happened to be Czech. Despite his occasional use of Czech subjects for operas and programmatic orchestral music, there is rarely anything overtly Czech about the music itself. Fibich was simply not given to onstage displays of Czech folk culture in the opera house or concert hall.
In contrast to Smetana or Dvořák, Fibich was the product of two cultures, German and Czech. He was fluent in both languages. His father was a Czech forestry official, and the composer’s early life was spent on isolated wooded estates where his father worked, rather than in a town or village with a thriving folk culture. Further, his mother was an ethnic German Viennese who home-schooled the boy in her language. His parents then sent him to a German-speaking gymnasium in Vienna and finally to the great Leipzig Conservatory.
Reflecting this background, Fibich’s music is generally in the vein of the great German romantics -- notably Weber, Mendelssohn, Schumann, and later Richard Wagner. While he returned to Prague to live and work, he never took up the cause of Czech independence and culture. For many years, he was ostracized by the musical establishment at the Prague National Theatre and Prague Conservatory, and was forced to rely on his private composition studio for income and students. Outside of Prague, while he published his music with his first name the German Zdenko, international publishers clamored for the Czech-sounding music his rivals were composing.
Fibich’s musical interest was mainly in dramatic and orchestral works, including eight operas, three symphonies, ten shorter orchestral works, and a cycle of nearly 400 piano pieces, Moods, Impressions, and Reminiscences. He also wrote a dozen chamber works which were largely neglected during his lifetime. He didn’t even bother to publish all of them. Only in recent years have musicians started to return to these half-forgotten pieces.
A case in point is this Quintet for violin, clarinet, horn, cello and piano, composed in 1893 and published the following year. Because of its unusual instrumentation, the Czech publisher insisted on issuing an alternative version for the conventional piano quintet, and it was in that form that the work was largely sold over the years. Then, in the 1980s, musicians re-discovered the original instrumentation and were won over by its unusual and stunning tonal effects.
The first movement, allegro non tanto, is in conventional sonata form. After four pizzicato notes on the cello, the energetic first theme is presented by the clarinet, answered by the violin, and then seasoned by the horn. Note that each phrase is ignited by an upward octave jump, which becomes a recurrent feature. The second theme, more lyrical and restrained, is offered by the piano. The development section expands both themes, which are then recapitulated, with the second theme this time stated by the violin. The piano opens the coda, longer and more complex than might be expected.
The contrasting tone colors made possible by these five instruments burst forth in the second movement, largo. First the piano states the dignified main theme at some length, this time with a recurring one octave downward jump. One by one the other instruments join in, adding their distinctive coloration. The piano offers a continuing strain, again with the added colors of the other instruments. The opening theme returns, again with the piano taking the lead and the other instruments commenting.
The third movement is a Scherzo with two contrasting trios. The main section is to be played, says the composer, “with wild humor.” The first trio starts as a solo for the horn; eventually the violin joins in, making it a duet. The second trio, over a cello pizzicato, offers solo opportunities for the piano and clarinet, while the violin rests.
The fourth movement, allegro con spirito, is joyous and festive, with energetic passages alternating with more lyrical episodes. Eventually, the music comes to a grand pause, and then concludes, grandioso, after a hymn-like treatment of the movement’s main theme.