UW Symphony Orchestra: "Smetana and Bruckner at 200"

David Alexander Rahbee leads the UW Symphony in a program of works by Bedřich Smetana and Anton Bruckner.

Program

from Symphony No. 6, in A major: Anton Bruckner (1824-1896)
I. Majestoso

Šárka, from Má Vlast (My Country): Bedřich Smetana (1824-1884) 

Intermission

from String Quintet in F major (arranged for string orchestra): Bruckner
III. Adagio

The Moldau (Vltava), from Má Vlast: Smetana
Ryan Dakota Farris, conductor 

Program Notes

This program features excerpts from larger works, thoughtfully curated to represent the essential building blocks of a four-movement symphony. The first movement, from Anton Bruckner's Symphony No. 6, sets a dramatic foundation, while Bedřich Smetana’s Šárka serves as a lively and vigorous scherzo, evoking the energy of a typical second movement. Bruckner returns with the deeply emotional Adagio from his String Quintet in F Major, and Smetana’s iconic Moldau brings the program to a sparkling conclusion, acting as a brilliant and vibrant finale. This program also commemorates the 200th anniversary of the birth of both composers, celebrating their enduring contributions to music.

Anton Bruckner (1824-1896)
Symphony no. 6 in A major, WAB 106, mvt I (1879-1881)

Anton Bruckner was a composer, teacher, and organist, born in Austria in 1824. His father, a schoolteacher, was also his first music instructor, which influenced Bruckner’s early exposure to music. After the death of his father when he was just 13, Bruckner was sent to a monastery, where he deepened his passion for the organ.

Bruckner is perhaps best known for his symphonies, and he was a trailblazer in developing the large-scale symphonic form. His music is deeply rooted in the traditions of his predecessors—Beethoven, Schubert, and Wagner—with the latter playing a significant role in shaping Bruckner's use of intricate harmonies. At the same time, his rich experience as an organist is evident, especially in his mastery of complex harmonic structures and expansive forms.

Bruckner’s Symphony No. 6 is a prime example of his distinctive compositional style, highlighting many of the elements that define his music. Listeners can hear rhythmic patterns that blend both simple and complex meters, stately pauses between phrases, and dramatic harmonic modulations that create a sense of unfolding tension and release. In the first movement of the symphony, a driving rhythm in the upper strings establishes an energetic pulse, setting the stage for a dark, brooding theme in the lower strings that will persist throughout the movement. As the music unfolds, Bruckner skillfully weaves together both new and familiar material, evoking the sense of an organ improvisation. This connection to the organ is particularly evident in the frequent pauses that punctuate the movement, allowing the sound to linger and dissipate, much as it would on the organ itself. The movement's rich and varied harmonic modulations build to a deeply satisfying coda, culminating in an apotheosis that feels both inevitable and uniquely Brucknerian, with a sense of grandeur and finality that only he could achieve.

Bedřich Smetana (1824-1884)
Šárka from Má Vlast (1875)

Bedřich Smetana was a composer known for his operas and symphonic poems, but more largely thought of as being the father of Czech music. Born in Bohemia, (now the Czech Republic) Smetana began studying music at an early age under the tutelage of his father. His career took him to Sweden before permanently returning to Prague in 1862, where he played a pivotal role in the establishment of their national opera house; and thus, his journey to create a distinctly Czech sound began. 

After the completion of multiple operas, as well as the loss of his hearing, Smetana began work on his cycle of six symphonic poems entitled Má Vlast 'My Fatherland', of which Šárka is the third. This cycle of works captures Czech pride and remains one of the most popular orchestral works to come out of any culture. Unlike the Moldau, (more on that later!) Šárka is based on a brutal and gory Czech legend which is perfectly immortalized in the music.  In Smetana’s own retelling of the tale:

“Šárka ties herself to a tree as bait and waits to be saved by the princely knight Ctirad, deceiving him into believing that she is an unwilling captive of the rebelling women. Once released by Ctirad, who has fallen in love with her, Šárka serves him and his comrades with drugged mead and once they have fallen asleep, she sounds a hunting horn: an agreed signal to the other women. The story ends with the warrior maidens murdering the sleeping men.”

A galloping triplet rhythm in the strings represents Ctirad on his horse on his way to rescue Šárka, and the luscious clarinet solo early in the movement illustrates Ctirad falling in love. Next, the party erupts with vivacious music and the bassoon cuts through the texture with a nasal pitch, evoking a snore as the men drift off to sleep. The horns call out as Šárka summons the maidens, and the piece ends in a furious vivo as the massacre ensues. 

Anton Bruckner (1824-1896)
Adagio from String Quintet in F major, WAB 112 (1878-1879)

Bruckner's String Quintet in F Major is his most profound and expansive chamber work. Originally scored for two violins, two violas, and cello, the addition of the second viola lends a rich, almost otherworldly depth to the already stirring music. While the quintet incorporates many elements of Bruckner's symphonic writing, it takes a more compact form than much of his other work. When arranged for string orchestra, it expands upon the emotional depth that can be achieved with just five instruments.

The third movement, Adagio, is lush and intensely emotional. The melody unfolds immediately in the violins, flowing through the sections before giving way to a transitional passage that feels almost improvisatory, led by the second violas. Much like the rhythmic drive that propels his symphonies, this transitional rhythm evolves throughout the Adagio, reflecting the music's shifting emotional landscape. Sweet, reminiscent passages are interjected by prominent marcato ideas, creating a flawless juxtaposition between intimacy and grandeur.
-Mica Weiland

Bedřich Smetana (1824-1884)
The Moldau from Má Vlast (1874)

Returning to Smetana’s Má vlast, The Moldau is the second of the six works in the cycle. Although the work has become famous under this name, its original title is Vltava, the name of the river over which spans the bridge in Prague crowded by tourists today. Moldau is the German name for the river, which foreign oppressors used during the long years of Czech domination by German-speaking countries; it was not used by Smetana, nor today by anyone else in modern-day Czechia.

It is easy to follow the “story” of this tone poem, because Smetana painted the different elements in the changing trip down the river most evocatively.  Moreover, he left us signposts in his own written notes. The river begins high in the hills as a small mountain stream, heard in the burbling woodwinds and strings. It courses through the forests and meadows, passing along the way a rustic peasant wedding heard through a folk dance. It then moves into darkness, illuminated only by the moon, and we hear mermaids dancing serenely in the night. The famous St. John’s Rapids inspire a stormy passage, with swirling whitewater. The music broadens majestically (with the river) as we approach Prague, and Smetana calls upon the brass to paint the imposing crags of the rocks of Vyšehrad —the magnificent overlook in Prague, home of the mythological origin of the Czech people. Incidentally, both Smetana and Antonin Dvořák are buried there in Vyšehrad Cemetery, the resting place of the cultural heroes of the Czech people. Finally, the music soars to its emotional heights as the river leaves Prague on its way to the sea.
-Ryan D. Farris

Biographies