Fanfares and Folk Melodies: Janáček's Czechia from the patriotic to the personal

Janáček wrote the work in 1926, dedicating it “to the Czechoslovak Army.” I don’t usually listen to ceremonial or military-style music, but the Sinfonietta is a richly orchestrated and satisfyingly textured piece of music that has a bit of everything: majestic, blow-your-socks-off fanfares; hauntingly beautiful woodwind solos; and captivating melody lines that travel — sometimes scurrying, sometimes flying — around the orchestra.

The lyrical, folk-inspired melodies of 19th- and 20th-century Czech works, often named after specific places, conjure vivid images as I listen and allow me to imagine the landscapes as the composers might have seen them.. Aside from the opening fanfare, the Sinfonietta’s movements are all named after iconic places in Brno, the historic city where Janáček spent much of his life. For me, this is what makes the piece stand out from other ceremonial works; its proud military fanfares and folk melodies make it boldly patriotic, yet it also contains emotional elements that reflect Janáček’s personal connection with his home. Here are a few of my favorite moments…

The first is this glorious opening; the subsequently recurring fanfare motif is presented by nine(!) standing trumpet players that command instant attention — what a moment that must be for those watching in the concert hall! That said, as much as I love a regal entrance, I would say it’s after the fanfare that the fun really starts: a spirited, mischievous oboe line snakes through the woodwind section to find feverish violins, which turn the melody into something more frenzied and desperate. This is just one of many magnetic moments in the Sinfonietta where a motif travels around the orchestra, seemingly entrancing each player on its way. The LSO woodwinds’ stunning timbres and flawless solos perfectly capture the ethereal beauty of Janáček’s melodies.

Another magnetic moment is at the beginning of the third movement, when a shivering, anguished melody line seems to cry out from beneath the muted bridges of the strings before passing to cor anglais, oboe, and back to violins, each section sharing a moment of melancholic beauty and interconnectedness. Janáček named this movement “The Queen’s Monastery, Brno” after the beautiful Basilica of the Assumption of Our Lady, where he was an organist. When I hear this heart-rending section, I imagine a figure kneeling humbly before the magnificent high altar of the basilica, praying, pleading with the spirits for redemption or perhaps for the return of a lost love.

The performance as a whole feels to me like a moment suspended in time, Rattle and the LSO seemingly imbued with the pride, passion, and hope that emerge so vividly out of Janáček’s music. Whether you see images of beautiful Czechia in your mind’s eye or simply enjoy a moment of orchestral excellence, Janáček’s Sinfonietta is sure to leave you with goosebumps…