
Smetana Dvě vdovy (The Two Widows). Adriana Kučerová (Karolína), Kateřina Kněžíková (Anežka), Jana Sibera (Lidkа), Pavol Breslik (Ladislav), Petr Nekoranec (Toník), Adam Plachetka (Mumlal). Prague National Theatre Chorus; Prague Radio Symphony Orchestra; Robert Jindra (conductor). Naxos 8.660609-10 CD. Total Time: 133:32.
DIGITAL REVIEW — Naxos’ fine new release of Dvě vdovy (The Two Widows) offers an opportunity to get to know in modern sound a compelling romantic comedy by Bedřich Smetana. The work premiered in Prague in 1874 at the nationalistic shrine the Provisional Theater, the composer’s last completed opera before deafness set in (despite which he continued tinkering with numbers and details of orchestration for the next few years).

This opera is not based on Czech legend or literature but is the equivalent of what 19th-century Russian culture called “an adaptation to our mores.” The libretto recycles in a Czech context a French play by Mauritius-born Jean Pierre Félicien Mallefille (1813-1868), yet another opera-adjacent writer linked romantically to George Sand.
It had played Prague’s Provisional Theater (used for drama as well as opera) in Czech translation in 1868. The result retains an elegant lightness of tone not always found in Czech operatic comedies but also probes further into ethical, class, and, above all, human psychological concerns than the average frothy drawing-room fare, theatrical or operatic.
For one thing, Smetana here deploys a range of precisely calibrated word setting (in parlando passages, recitative, and fully sung arias and ensembles), which deepens the characterizations and — for native listeners, at least — the distinctively “Czech” character of the portrayed interactions. In this respect, Smetana’s work here paralleled what the Russian “Mighty Five” composers, most notably Modest Mussorgsky, were attempting in regard to accuracy of word setting, developments that paved the way variously for Claude Debussy, Bela Bartók, and— most signally in the Czech arena — Leoš Janáček.

Also, as one would expect from the composer of Prodaná nevěsta (The Bartered Bride), the music— from the lively and varied overture forward — is highly tuneful and orchestrated with a view to showcasing the renowned abilities of Czech string players. The opera’s U.S. premiere is cited as having been in 1949, but more likely — as with most of Smetana’s less grandiose works — it was staged earlier by Midwestern emigré groups.
In translation, Jay Lesenger directed Two Widows at Chautauqua Opera in 1999 with Joyce DiDonato and Brandon Jovanovich, and Bronx Opera fielded a pleasant staging 10 years later. This worthy piece deserves international stagings (including by festivals and conservatories), but operagoers are most likely to encounter it in the theaters of the Czech Republic (or, occasionally, Slovakia).
The original cast of Dvě vdovy never attained international prominence but amounted to a Smetana repertory company celebrated in their homeland. The first Karolina — the adventurous and flirtatious of the two widows — was Ema Maislerová, who debuted in 1867 as The Bartered Bride’s coloratura soubrette Esmerelda but transmuted (as has, in recent years, Aleksandra Kurzak) to lyric and then spinto soprano roles. Marie Sittová played her warier cousin Anežka, a less flamboyant soprano role within the compass of high mezzos. (Smetana’s music provides contrast between two female relatives’ attitudes about romance, as in Così fan tutte, to which the opera is sometimes compared.) Tenor Antonín Vávra took on the aristocratic poacher Ladislav, at first enamored of Karolina but manipulated by her to fall in love with Anežka.

Below stairs, Karolina’s crusty gatekeeper Mumlal (a rich bass role) was Karel Čech. As in Fidelio, the bass has a light soprano daughter (Lidka, originated by Marie Laušmanová) and she has a light tenor fiancé (Toník, taken by Jan Šára). Here, Karolina has to overcome the father’s implacable opposition to the romance, allowing for a two-couple, two-class wedding to end the piece, as in not a few comedies. Many of these singers also participated in creating other Smetana works — Hubička (The Kiss), 1876; Tajemství (The Secret), 1878; Libuše, 1881, premiered to open and consecrate the new National Theater, though written a decade earlier; and Čertova stěna (The Devil’s Wall) 1882. Some of them also appeared in early operas by Smetana’s great successor Antonín Dvořák: 1874’s Král a uhlíř (King and Collier); 1876’s Vanda; 1878’s Šelma sedlák (The Cunning Peasant) and 1889’s The Jacobin — by which time Ema Maislerová was a character contralto.
For this new recording of the revised version of Smetana’s opera, the seasoned Robert Jindra called on the excellent Prague Radio Symphony Orchestra and the Prague National Theatre Chorus— the artistic “descendants” of those choristers who created the piece — to join some of the finest Czech and Slovak singers active today. Sopranos Adriana Kučerová, Kateřina Kněžíková, respectively Slovak and Czech, both have established profiles in European musical capitals. As Karolina and Anežka, both sing with appropriate energy, flexibility, and lyricism; Kučerová’s slightly darker and weightier timbre and Kněžíková’s flutier voice production keep the two cousins’ contributions recognizable to the home listener.
Ladislav gets an ardent tenor aria in the tradition of “Ach, so fromm” from Flotow’s Martha: “Když zavitá máj” (“When May arrives”). Slovakia’s international star Pavol Breslik, no stranger to North American opera houses and concert halls, dispenses plenty of vocal and interpretive charm. As the comic Mumlal, bass-baritone Adam Plachetka, whose American career started well at Lyric Opera of Chicago but who has been at best adequate in his mystifyingly frequent Metropolitan Opera appearances in Mozart and Puccini, here suggests a better field for his current activity. Jana Sibera sings nicely as his daughter Lidka. Petr Nekoranec, the fine, shining young Czech tenor, who early on appeared at the Met and now is a regular at Aix-en-Provence and other prestigious venues, creates a memorable Toník. This is a very enjoyable performance.

























