Copyright

by

Kaitlin Lee Ericson

2010

The Report Committee for Kaitlin Lee Ericson

Certifies that this is the approved version of the following report:

Forging a National Identity: Ideological Undercurrents

in Smetana’s Vltava

APPROVED BY

SUPERVISING COMMITTEE:

James Buhler

Byron Almén

Supervisor:

Forging a National Identity: Ideological Undercurrents

in Smetana’s Vltava

by

Kaitlin Lee Ericson, B.M.

Report

Presented to the Faculty of the Graduate School of

The University of Texas at Austin

in Partial Fulfillment

of the Requirements

for the Degree of

Master of Music

The University of Texas at Austin

May 2010

iv

Abstract

Forging a National Identity: Ideological Undercurrents

in Smetana’s Vltava

Kaitlin Lee Ericson, MMusic

The University of Texas at Austin, 2010

Supervisor: James Buhler

Smetana’s Vltava is widely described as a musical depiction of sights and scenes

on a journey down the Vltava River that glorifies the river as a defining national

landmark. While this understanding of the piece complies with its program and

produces a formal and thematic analysis that reveals a general adherence to the

conventions of the nineteenth-century symphonic poem, the interpretation only

considers the work in isolation and does not account for its most exceptional features.

My paper will analyze Vltava in its larger context as a part of the symphonic cycle of Má

Vlast to uncover a deeper programmatic significance to the movement’s formal and

thematic design, one inextricably bound up with Smetana’s Czech nationalism. The

analysis will consider all of the movements of the cycle and their relationships to one

another, with particular emphasis on the crucial relationship between Vltava and Z

českých luhů a hájů.

v

Table of Contents

Vyšehrad's Vision .................................................................................................... 1

Šárka's Rage .......................................................................................................... 14

Hus' Song ............................................................................................................... 34

Bibliography .......................................................................................................... 42

Vita ........................................................................................................................ 44

1

Vyšehrad’s Vision

The symphonic poem Vltava, the second of six in the collection Má Vlast (My

Country), has long been one of Bedřich Smetana’s most well-known and most

celebrated works.1 Composed in 1874, Vltava is widely described as a musical depiction

of the course of the Vltava River (known in German as the Moldau) that runs through

the Czech city of Prague.2 In his biography of Smetana, Brian Large portrays the work as

“a delicate watercolor inspired by the Czech countryside, its rivers, valleys, and above all

by its people.”3 Smetana’s brief notes for the piece include the following:

The composition depicts the course of the river, from its beginning where two

brooks, one cold, the other warm, join a stream, running through forests and

meadows and a lovely countryside where merry feasts are celebrated; water-sprites

dance in the moonlight; on nearby rocks can be seen the outline of ruined castles,

proudly soaring into the sky. Vltava swirls through the St. John Rapids and flows in a

broad stream towards Prague. It passes Vyšehrad and disappears majestically into

the distance, where it joins the Elbe.4

Smetana’s notes have commonly inspired an interpretation of Vltava as a kind of

travelogue in its musical portrayal of the river’s course and the various scenes we

1 John Clapham, Smetana (New York: Octagaon Books, 1972), p. 80.

2 Marta Ottlová et. al., “Smetana, Bedřich *Friedrich+,” Grove Music Online ed. L. Macy (Accessed 23

March 2010), http://www.grovemusic.com. 3 Brian Large, Smetana (New York: Da Capo Press, 1985), p. 269.

4 Ibid., p. 273.

2

encounter along the way.5 Indeed, as we listen to the composition, clear in its formal

divisions and effective in its thematic treatment, we may readily identify each of the

events outlined in the above program. Figure 1 shows Vltava’s basic formal divisions

along with the corresponding programmatic events. Enriching this basic interpretation is

the work’s overtly nationalist origins, in light of which Vltava also distinctly evokes

nationalistic pride in the river as a defining Czech landmark and unifying symbol of

Czech life and culture.6 As this understanding of the work accords with the account

Smetana provides as well as with explicitly nationalist appeals, most analysts have been

content to work within this interpretive framework.7

Figure 1: Smetana, Vltava, formal diagram with programmatic events

Introduction Vltava Forest/Hunt Wedding

Water sprites Vltava Rapids

Vltava broad Vyšehrad

"River" ≈ T1 T2 ≈ T3 T4 ≈ T1 "River" +

T1 T1' *

36 80 118 181 239 271 333 359

e

C → E G Ab c V/e e ( x) E

Interpreting Vltava as a travelogue highlights the composition’s essential

adherence to the generic conventions of the nineteenth-century symphonic poem. The

invention of the symphonic poem in the mid-nineteenth century is generally credited to

Liszt. Defined in the current online edition of Grove Dictionary as “an orchestral form in

5 Alexander C. MacKenzie, “The Bohemian School of Music,” Sammelbände der Internationalen

Musikgesellschaft 7 (1906): 158. 6 Michael Beckerman, “In Search of Czechness in Music,” 19

th-Century Music 10.1 (1986): 73.

7 Large, Smetana, 273-276.

3

which a poem or programme provides a narrative or illustrative basis,”8 the symphonic

poem has also been described as “an orchestral composition inspired by a literary,

historical, or pictorial subject – or indeed by anything which exists also outside music (a

natural scene, for instance) – and deriving its structure rather from the events or

incidents or objects which it seeks to portray than from the inherited forms of the art of

music itself.”9 In other words, the form of the symphonic poem arises from the given

programmatic sequence and thus will often deviate from the conventional formal

structures, especially sonata form, that nevertheless remain at the core of its

organization. Liszt’s conception influenced many subsequent composers, including

Smetana, to whom he was a mentor and friend.10 Liszt’s influence is evident in Vltava

and the cycle of Má Vlast, where Smetana turned the genre into a means of nationalist

expression.11

The structural features of Vltava, which unfold as an expression of the work’s

programmatic content, ultimately invoke principles of both sonata and rondo form as

well. The piece opens in the tonic key of E minor with a short introduction depicting the

river’s two source streams, “one cold, the other warm,” that will eventually merge into

one. As shown in Example 1, the musical material of the opening consists of the initial

8 Hugh Macdonald, “Symphonic Poem,” Grove Music Online ed. L. Macy (Accessed 31 March 2010),

<http://www.grovemusic.com>. 9 R.W.S. Mendl, “The Art of the Symphonic Poem,” The Musical Quarterly 18.3 (1932): 443.

10 Vladimir Helfert, “Bedřich Smetana (1824—2 March—1924),” The Slavonic Review 3.7 (1924): 148.

11 Macdonald, “Symphonic Poem.”

4

development of what may be called the “river motive,” which is comprised of running

sixteenth notes that musically imitate the river’s running waters. The orchestration of

this passage also illustrates the idea of a divided stream, as the motive passes back and

forth first between the two flute parts and then between the two flute parts and the

two clarinet parts.

Example 1: Smetana, Vltava, flute parts, mm. 5-9.

The somewhat long introduction leads directly into the main theme (mm. 36 ff.),

also in E minor, which consists of a soaring, expansive melody (Example 2) played over

the river motive and which programmatically announces the arrival in the Vltava

mainstream. The historical origins of this theme are disputed, as the tune in various

forms had previously appeared in a number of compositions and seems to have been

widely circulated throughout Europe beginning as early as the seventeenth century.12

Biographers note that the theme resembles several indigenous folk tunes, most closely

the Czech nursery rhyme “Kočka, lese dírou, pes oknem.”13 Large also suggests that

Smetana may have heard the melody when he lived for several years in Sweden, as the

12

“The canzonetta Fuggi, fuggi, fuggi da questo cielo . . . became known as the Aria di Mantova through sonata treatments by Biagio Marini and Marco Uccellini. Its melody was used for a popular noël in 18th-century France, and it eventually emerged as the principal theme of Smetana’s Vltava" (John Walter Hill, "Cenci, Giuseppe," Grove Music Online ed. L. Macy [Accessed 11 April 2010], http://www.grovemusic.com). 13

Clapham, Smetana, p. 80.

5

melody appears in a popular Swedish folk song that he likely encountered.14 Whatever

its actual origins, it seems clear, given how the theme is deployed in the tone poem,

that Smetana used it because of its Czech associations.

Example 2: Smetana, Vltava, opening of the main theme, mm. 36-43.

The main theme is followed by three different episodes, labeled by name in

Figure 1 and shown in Example 3. Each clearly contrasting in style and in key, these

episodes are musical depictions of different sights and scenes someone might see on a

journey down the river, including woodsmen hunting in the forest (mm. 80 ff.), a

wedding ceremony taking place along the riverbank (mm. 118 ff.), and water sprites

dancing in the moonlight (mm. 181 ff.). Up to this point in the piece, the unfolding

episodic organization most closely resembles the formal principle of the rondo. While

rondo form traditionally requires a return of the main theme between each episode,

Smetana’s use of the river motive to transition between the episodes serves to link the

contrasting episodes together with music associated with the river. Thus, the river

motive arguably functions as a substitute for the main theme’s reference point.

Programmatically, the ubiquitous presence of the river motive serves to unify

14

Large, Smetana, p. 275.

6

Example 3a: Smetana, Vltava, Woodsmen, mm. 80-85.

Example 3b: Smetana, Vltava, Wedding, mm. 118-126.

Example 3c: Smetana, Vltava, Water sprites, mm. 188-191.

7

the otherwise disparate episodes just as the famous river serves to unify the nation’s

land, culture, history, mythology, and people in the cultural imagination. Though the

emphasis in the composition falls on the scenes depicted, the persistent river motive

serves as a constant reminder that the river is a shared geographical landmark with

important historical, social, and cultural associations representative of national unity.

The water sprites episode leads to a return of the main theme in m. 239, as the

program dictates a shift of emphasis from the scenes along the riverbank back to the

journey down the river towards Prague and a view of ruined castles along the rocks.

Although the number of episodes between the first statement of the theme and its

return is unusual for rondo form, we can nevertheless interpret its arrival as a medial

rondo statement of the theme. Example 4 illustrates that the end of the water sprites

episode also resembles a sonata-like retransition (mm. 229 ff.), complete with the

traditional standing on the dominant that leads smoothly to the return of the main

theme. The resemblance to a sonata recapitulation here suggests a possible mix of

formal processes.

This medial statement of the main theme turns directly into a highly

developmental episode that depicts the river’s course through the turbulent St. John’s

Rapids. As Example 5 shows, this stormy section develops main theme material and the

accompanying river motive. This section ultimately leads to a final statement of the

main theme (mm. 333 ff.) which, as Example 6 demonstrates, involves a distinct topical

8

Example 4: Smetana, Vltava, Retransition (G), mm. 228-230.

and modal shift to a heroic fanfare in E major. The program for this section describes

the long-awaited arrival in Prague, as well as a view of the Vyšehrad Castle, whose

presence is signaled by a statement of the main theme from Vyšehrad (mm. 359 ff.), the

first movement of Má Vlast. The pivotal transformation of the Vltava theme into a

heroic, victorious fanfare to close the work suggests not only a fulfilling end to the river

journey, but ultimately serves the ideological program of glorifying the river as a source

of national pride and unity.

The marked transformation of the main theme’s final statement seems a

9

Example 5: Smetana, Vltava, St. John’s Rapids, mm. 281-285.

Example 6: Smetana, Vltava, Vltava in broad stream, mm. 333-340.

10

considerable departure from rondo form, as the final statement of the main theme

usually returns in stable and recognizable form. Here, however, the thematic process

seems more characteristic of a sonata-form coda; as James Hepokoski and Warren

Darcy note, codas, particularly in programmatic works, commonly feature a significant

alteration or apotheosis of the main theme.15 In this final section, then, a sonata-form

process seems to intrude on and subvert the basic episodic organization that has up to

this point been guiding our analysis.

Acknowledging the sonata-like character of the coda, we can go back over the

piece and recognize that attributes of sonata form had been latent all along. I have

already mentioned the strong character of the retransition that preceded the return of

the main theme; a general sonata-form framework is also evident in the movement’s

tonal plan. Figure 2 compares rondo and sonata form interpretations of Vltava’s

organization. The wedding episode (C) becomes the subordinate theme (to use William

Caplin’s terminology16), as it contrasts markedly in style and appears in the relative

major, the traditional key of the subordinate theme in minor mode sonata form

movements. The hunting episode (B), harmonically unstable and lacking distinctive

thematic material, fittingly serves as the transition. While the peaceful serenity of the

water sprites episode (D) does not deliver the stormy material characteristic of

15

James Hepokoski and Warren Darcy, Elements of Sonata Theory: Forms, Types, and Deformations in the Late-Eighteenth-Century Sonata (New York: Oxford University Press, 2006), pp. 286-7. 16

William E. Caplin, Classical Form: A Theory of Formal Functions for the Instrumental Music of Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven (New York: Oxford University Press, 1998).

11

development, it is also harmonically unstable, sequencing chromatically through several

different keys, from A-flat major to C minor to E-flat major/minor, and finally to B major,

the dominant of E minor, as it accordingly retransitions into the sonata form

recapitulation. The recapitulation is more problematic, most notably due to the absence

of the subordinate theme and the appearance of a stormy developmental section that,

while perhaps compensating for the uncharacteristically serene mood of the water

sprites episode, effectively paves the way for the coda.

Figure 2: Smetana, Vltava, rondo and sonata form interpretations

Expo.

Dev. Recap.

Sonata: Intro. P Theme Transition S Theme Dev. Recap. Dev. 2 Coda

Rondo: Intro. A B C D A E A' *

36 80 118 181 239 271 333 359

Vltava, it seems, incorporates organizational principles and processes drawn

from both rondo and sonata forms, with the relationship managed in part by the

program. The program effectively mediates rondo and sonata and together they provide

a perfectly satisfactory reading of the work as a musical travelogue. Conceived this way,

Vltava expresses distinct pride in the river as an important geographical landmark that

symbolizes national unity. However, understanding Vltava as a travelogue also implies a

deliberate plan to the (implicitly) guided tour, which raises questions regarding the

organizational choices contained in the program. For instance, what is the logic or

12

significance behind the selection and ordering of scenes and events in the piece? Also, if

the episodic principle of the rondo seems dominant to the point of the coda, what are

we to make, in terms of the program, of the remarkable nature of the thematic

transformation in the coda?

This transformation is remarkable in several ways. First of all, the theme itself is

thoroughly de-emphasized and almost beside the point. Rather than playing an

expansive and majestic statement of the main theme, the coda doubles its tempo,

changes its mode, and presents it as a heroic fanfare, preserving only its basic melodic

line. The theme sounds particularly harried here, as it struggles to achieve closure, with

several attempted cadences, which it only achieves with the entrance of the Vyšehrad

theme in m. 359. Ultimately, the theme, the expected focal point of the coda, is

trivialized as it is transformed in function and becomes the preparation for the Vyšehrad

theme, the actual goal of the coda and thus also of the movement. However, the

Vyšehrad theme itself appears only as a fragment before leading into the extended

conventional cadence material that concludes the work. Vltava’s closing measures,

shown in Example 7, contain one last reference to the main theme, which also occurs as

a fragment before the abrupt final cadence.

From a formal perspective, the coda and apotheosis of the Vyšehrad fragment

provide rhetorical emphasis and conventional formal rounding for the work. The

13

Example 7: Smetana, Vltava, mm. 419-427.

program explains the significance of the coda as the end of the river journey with the

entrance into Prague and the view of Vyšehrad. The victorious arrival and majestic

sights account for the topical change in the main theme and its displacement by the

Vyšehrad theme. However, this particular programmatic interpretation has little to say

about the trivialization of the theme, and by extension why the representation displaces

the river with Vyšehrad and the significance of the presentation of the Vyšehrad theme

as a fragment. In fact, the shift of representational focus away from the river may

possibly challenge the overt programmatic emphasis (carried in the title) on glorifying

the river, particularly in the final section of the work where this sentiment is most

notably expressed and solidified. The rhetorical flourishes of the coda almost undermine

the ideological project of the travelogue.

14

Šárka’s Rage

These questions surrounding Vltava’s coda section may be clarified through an

analysis of the work that takes into account the entirety of Má Vlast, the collection of

symphonic poems to which it belongs. Because Vltava is the most popular of the six

poems, it is very often extracted and performed as a stand-alone composition. The

composition is therefore also widely interpreted outside of its larger context.17 Although

the travelogue explanation of Vltava is largely convincing when applied to the work in

isolation, this is less true when it is considered as a part of the larger work. Upon

examining Vltava in the context of Má Vlast and considering the historical context and

central idea of Má Vlast itself, we may uncover a deeper programmatic significance to

both the individual poem and the entire work.

František Bartoš, an important editor of Smetana’s works,18 points to a

specifically nationalistic ideological content to Má Vlast.

Stressed national tendencies, resulting naturally from such circumstances [of

national struggle], [its] conflicts and ardent optimism, indicating a great future for

the nation, are the reasons why [the work is] fully understood and appreciated only

by Smetana’s countrymen. *It has+ become a national sacrosanct to which the

17

Clapham, Smetana, pp. 76-84: source recognizes Má Vlast as a unified work, but analyzes each movement on an individual basis. 18

John Clapham, “Smetana: A Century After,” The Musical Times 125:1694 (1984): 204.

15

whole nation turns in times of crises. For this reason too a foreigner can

comprehend only with difficulty the specific ideological atmosphere of [this] most

monumental of Smetana’s works.19

Bartoš implies that those who approach this music as foreigners and cultural tourists –

precisely the vantage point of the musical travelogue – will miss the “specific ideological

atmosphere” of the work. For Bartoš, the work speaks fundamentally to Czech culture

and identity and, as such, a knowledge and understanding of Czech history, specifically

of the period of Czech nationalism to which Má Vlast belongs, will help us better

comprehend the rich significance of the work.

At the beginning of the nineteenth century, the Czechs were a suppressed

minority that struggled to maintain their increasingly intangible Czech identity within

the multi-ethnic, multi-linguistic Austrian Empire. The Czech people had been under

Austrian rule for nearly two hundred years.20 During this long period of foreign

domination, the Czechs suffered the gradual Germanization of their lands, which

included the obliteration of the Czech language from state institutions, heavy

censorship, and a ban on Czech literature.21 During the nineteenth century, nationalist

sentiment grew in Czech lands (Bohemia, Moravia, and the portion of Silesia under

19

Clapham, Smetana, p. 76 (emphasis added). 20

Robert Bideleux and Ian Jeffries, A History of Eastern Europe: Crisis and Change, Second Edition (New York: Routledge, 2007): 167. 21

Zenon E. Kohut, “National Revival,” from Czechoslovakia: A Country Study, edited by Ihor Gawdiak (Washington D.C.: Library of Congress, 1987).

16

Austrian rule) as the decline in the fortunes of the Austrian Empire led its rulers to offer

somewhat more autonomy to the provinces, especially with respect to expressions of

indigenous ethnic and cultural identity, although Czechs would remain under Austrian

rule until after the First World War.22

Through the nineteenth century, Czech nationalism predominantly followed a

path of cultural (rather than political) liberation,23 and it sparked a widespread

movement to revive Czech language, culture, and national identity.24 Although the

movement consistently pushed to secure equal rights for Czechs and greater

representation within the empire and would eventually fight for full political freedom

and independence following the turn of the twentieth century,25 Czech nationalists

initially turned to literature, history, language, music, and art as the primary outlets for

nationalist growth and expression, and this effectively laid the foundation for the future

struggle for political autonomy.26 With the exception of an uprising in Prague in 1848,

most expressions of Czech nationalism were intellectual and educational, emphasizing

Czech cultural unity and the concept of nation through the shared history, language, and

22

Bamber Gascoigne, “History of Bohemia.” HistoryWorld. From 2001, ongoing. http://www.historyworld.net/wrldhis/PlainTextHistories.asp?groupid=2055&HistoryID=ac40. 23

Helfert, “Bedřich Smetana,” p. 151. 24

Kohut, “National Revival.” 25

Gascoigne, “History of Bohemia.” 26

John F. N. Bradley, Czech Nationalism in the Nineteenth Century (New York: Columbia Press, 1984), p. 29.

17

ethnic and cultural background that the Czech people were seeking to both recover and

redefine.27

Musically, the Czech cultural revival found expression as an increased interest in

developing a distinct national style.28 The son of a brewer, Smetana, like nearly all

Czechs among the upper classes in Prague, was raised with the German language and

given a German education, but he became an ardent nationalist following the 1848

uprising in Prague, where he helped to man the barricades while also composing

patriotic songs and marches for the National Guard.29 Immediately following the revolt,

as the atmosphere in Prague “became more stifling than before as the foremost leaders

of the uprising were either exiled or flung in prison,” Smetana fled to his parents’ home

outside of the city for several weeks, and for the next decade of renewed absolutism

and tightened censorship he spent much of his time traveling and working abroad,

especially in Sweden. 30

When the provisional National Theater, the first theater specially dedicated to

the performance of Czech works, opened in Prague in 1862, Smetana returned and

settled permanently in Prague with the idea of composing operas and other works.31

While many Czech critics and composers advocated developing a national style based on

27

Kohut, “National Revival.” 28

William A. Everett, “Opera and National Identity in Nineteenth Century Croation and Czech Lands,” International Review of the Aesthetics and Sociology of Music 35.1 (2004):64. 29

Clapham, “Smetana: A Century After,” p. 205. 30

Large, Smetana, p. 43. 31

Ibid., p. 126.

18

quoting folk music, Smetana staunchly opposed this notion of Czech musical identity,

and therefore he generally eschewed direct quotation of folksong in his works.32 Rather,

he drew on contemporary trends, emulating such composers as Liszt and Wagner, and

conceived a new national style and tradition of Czech music that fully embraced modern

musical developments.33 Common elements of this national style include a downbeat

accent, dance-like syncopations, chromatic third relations, parallel thirds and sixths,

oscillation between parallel major and minor modes, and use of modes with lowered

sevenths and raised fourths.34

While composing for the National Theatre in Prague, Smetana worked under

imperial censorship that restricted expressions of extreme nationalist sentiment,

particularly anything that might incite subversive political activity.35 Though the censors

tolerated and even encouraged displays of Czech pride in their history, land, language,

and culture, they worked to silence voices critical of Austrian rule and to suppress any

political activity that endorsed or encouraged any kind of rebellion or uprising against

the Empire. As important public events, plays and other performances were subject to

careful censorship which in turn affected Smetana’s composition while in Prague as well

as the performance and reception of his works, especially those written for the stage.

32

Ottlová, “Smetana.” 33

Michael Beckerman, “In Search of Czechness in Music,” 19th

-Century Music 10.1 (1986): 34

Beckerman, “In Search of Czechness in Music,” p. 64. 35

Marcel Cornis-Pope and John Neubauer, History of the Literary Cultures of East-Central Europe: Junctures and Disjunctures in the 19

th and 20

th Centuries, Volume III: The Making and Remaking of Literary

Institutions (Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing Company, 2007), p. 47.

19

While conveying a deep love of his country, the content of his program notes and of the

libretti for his operas necessarily adhered to the guidelines of the censors in avoiding

overtly political topics. However, several of his works center on historical events

significant to the Czech people, and it is possible to interpret them as political allegories

of current situations. Among these works is his 1866 opera The Brandenburgers in

Bohemia, a historical allegory that was simple enough to map onto the current political

situation between the Hapsburgs and the Czechs.36 This particular work, set in 1279,

likely passed the censors because it depicted a time of German (as opposed to Austrian)

domination of Czech lands, and Austrians would have identified with its anti-German

sentiment in light of the tensions around the Austro-Prussian War. Even so, the censors

were aware that Czech writers often used historical guises to depict current political

situations, but works based on distant history were generally given somewhat more

leeway, as they could be considered as expressions of Czech pride.37

Composed between 1874 and 1879, Má Vlast falls late in Smetana’s

compositional output38 and so at a time when expression of Czech national pride was no

longer discouraged by the state and national culture had stabilized.39 It is a cycle of six

symphonic poems, four of which are based on Czech history and legends; the other two

are general depictions of the Czech lands and people. The set has been

36

Everett, “Opera and National Identity,” p. 65. 37

John F.N. Bradley, Czech Nationalism in the Nineteenth Century (New York: Columbia Press, 1984), p. 92. 38

Large, Smetana, pp. 266-67. 39

Bradley, Czech Nationalism, p. 19.

20

straightforwardly described by Ottlová as a “celebration of the [Czech] homeland,”40

and each movement, Large explains, “deals with a different programme, be it history,

descriptions of past glories, the prophecy of a better future, or evocations of scenery,

landscapes or the people who dwell there.”41 As with Vltava, Smetana provided detailed

program notes for all of the poems except the fourth, Z českých luhů a hájů (From

Bohemia’s Woods and Fields).42 Vyšehrad, the first in the cycle, opens with a prophecy

of the future glory of the Czech nation; it tells the legend of the nation’s founding, of the

building of Vyšehrad Castle atop the high rock overlooking Prague and the Vltava River,

and of the downfall of the castle and its subsequent state as ruins. The second

movement is Vltava. It is followed by Šárka, which recounts the story of an ancient

Czech female warrior who rebels against and, with the aid of her band of maidens,

slaughters an occupying army. Similar to Vltava, Z českých luhů a hájů, the fourth piece

in the cycle, is a symphonic picture of the Czech landscape, this time of its fields, forests,

and lowlands. Tábor, named for the medieval town and fortress in Bohemia that was

home to the Hussite warriors, is based upon the Hussite chorale “Ye who are God’s

warriors” and expresses the “glory and fame of the Hussite wars and the invincible spirit

of the Hussites.”43 Finally, Blaník, which follows Tábor immediately without pause and

also makes much use of the Hussite chorale, depicts the Hussites’ retreat to Blaník

40

Ottlová, “Smetana.” 41

Large, Smetana, p. 287. 42

Clapham, Smetana, p. 77-8. 43

Ibid., p. 78.

21

mountain, where they wait to be summoned to the aid of their country, and ultimately

the victorious resurgence of the Czech nation to conclude the cycle. Blaník also brings

Má Vlast full circle in its quotation of the Vyšehrad theme, associated with the

legendary prophecy of future Czech glory.

Though the individual poems may be (and are) performed outside the set, many

critics contend that Má Vlast “makes its greatest impact when heard as a whole.”44 The

thematic and programmatic connection between the first and final movements of Má

Vlast provides the work with an overarching unity, although musical relationships

among the seemingly disparate individual movements are not always clear. The six

symphonic poems and their subjects appear to be related to one another primarily in

the way they represent shared elements of Czech history, geography, and culture. From

the perspective of someone not invested in Czech national identity, the cycle of Má

Vlast appears to showcase various Czech cultural “treasures” and to reveal Smetana’s

love for and pride in his homeland. However, if we trace the formal processes of the

work carefully, following the selection of specific scenes and elements from start to

finish and paying close attention to the purposeful juxtaposition, we find that the work

charts a particular formation of Czech national identity.

This identity is plotted first of all in the basic arrangement of the six movements.

Vyšehrad and Šárka, for instance, both deal with historical legends, while Vltava and Z

44

Clapham, Smetana, p. 76.

22

českých luhů a hájů both evoke geography of nature and landscapes. Finally, the last

two movements, Tábor and Blaník, both focus on the Hussites and are formally

connected to one another attacca. As illustrated in Figure 3, this arrangement suggests

reading the movements in pairs: 1. Vyšehrad and Vltava; 2. Šárka and Z českých luhů a

hájů; and 3. Tábor and Blaník. The first of each pair centers on an important Czech

legend, the second on a significant geographical feature of the Czech lands—in the case

of the final movement, Blaník, the mountain also features prominently in the legend,

allowing this final movement to synthesize these two strands.

Figure 3: Smetana, Má Vlast, movements in pairs

Pair 1 - Thesis Pair 2 - Antithesis Pair 3 - Synthesis

Vyšehrad Vltava Šárka Z českých luhů a hájů

Tábor Blaník

Legend Geography Legend Geography Legend Legend and Geography

If Blaník serves as the ultimate synthesis of the cycle through its fusion of legend

and geography, its integration with Tábor counteracts the disintegrative forces at work

in the first four movements, especially the second pair, which seems situated as an

explicit antithesis to the narrative and geographical thesis posited by the opening two

movements. This thesis-antithesis relationship between the first two sets of paired

movements and the disintegrative forces of the second pair are additionally and

critically manifest through the progressive breakdown of musical structure. Whereas

23

Vyšehrad and Vltava constitute formally and thematically coherent movements, Šárka

and Z českých luhů a hájů are their respective antitheses, formally and thematically

fragmented. It then follows that Tábor, the most formally and thematically disordered

movement, is the resulting state of the gradual disintegration of the antithesis pair that

ultimately achieves formal, thematic, and programmatic synthesis in Blaník, with which

it merges. A comparative analysis of Vyšehrad and Vltava and their respective

counterparts will illuminate these processes.

Vyšehrad and Šárka are outwardly linked by shared subject matter that

encompasses Czech history and legend and the recounting of a tale or historical event.

Important to observe, however, is the way their narrative structures differ. Most

notably, Vyšehrad represents its narrator as a character whereas Šárka’s narrator is only

implied. In addition, these two movements oppose one another in terms of formal

organization. Vyšehrad’s formal processes align closely with the basic conventions of

sonata form, featuring a clear introduction and exposition (mm. 1-76), a thorough

development section (mm. 76-259), and a recapitulation (mm. 259-314), as well as a

general adherence to the expected key areas. Šárka’s formal organization, by contrast,

is organized programmatically as a series of five episodes following the events of the

story. Apart from the final episode, which shares similar thematic material with the

opening episode and returns to the tonic key to round out the movement, the form is

much less coherent than that of Vyšehrad. Although explained easily enough by the

24

narrative program, the progression of the sharply contrasting episodes lacks fluidity and

the form as a whole is noticeably disjunct; key areas shift frequently and are largely

unconventional. Finally, while Vyšehrad and Šárka both depict ancient Czech legends,

the tale of Vyšehrad expresses the heroic, resilient, and still optimistic Czech spirit that

remains amidst the loss and defeat that defines the nation’s history, whereas Šárka is a

dark and violent story of revenge. Thus, these two symphonic poems, outwardly linked

through shared historical themes, significantly oppose one another in narrative

structure, form, and programmatic mood.

Similar parallels and oppositions are at work in Vltava and Z českých luhů a hájů,

movements two and four of the symphonic cycle, respectively. Figure 4 highlights some

of these parallels and oppositions. Both of these tone poems depict geographic features

of the Czech lands, and both plot a specific course through the landscapes. Vltava traces

a journey down the river, whereas Z českých luhů a hájů charts a path from the

countryside, through the forest, and to the lowlands. Each also contains scenes that

portray characteristic aspects of Czech life and culture, among which include

woodsmen, a wedding polka, and water sprites in Vltava. Though Smetana’s official

program notes for Z českých luhů a hájů do not provide details for the scenes,

interpretations of the movement include the portrayal of a young country girl,45 a polka,

45

Large, Smetana, p. 280: Smetana provided this detail in a more specific program to a friend.

25

Figure 4: Smetana, Vltava and Z českých luhů a hájů, comparative chart

Vltava Z českých luhů a hájů

Landscape River Countryside, forest, lowlands

Scenes Woodsmen, polka, water sprites Country girl, polka, wood sprites

Narrative Viewpoint Tourist (external); male Country girl (personal); female

Form Conventions of rondo and sonata Loosely-organized ABA, lacking clear formal divisions

Thematic Treatment Integrated Disjunct

Orchestration Mostly light and well-balanced Mostly thick and heavy

and wood sprites46, episodes whose subjects directly correlate with those of Vltava.

Perhaps more conspicuous than these parallels, however, is the marked

opposition between these two movements. The first and most obvious is the opposition

of water and land. Secondly, as with movements one and three, movements two and

four differ with respect to narrative viewpoints. Whereas Vltava offers a travelogue, the

tourist’s vantage point of an excursion down the river, taking in the sights and looking at

various scenes of Czech life, Z českých luhů a hájů identifies the vantage point of a young

country girl, thus implying a personal journey of a native Czech.47 Furthermore, the

implication of a female character in the fourth movement highlights an additional

opposition between the paired movements. While Vyšehrad features a male narrator

46

Clapham, Smetana, p. 81: Author’s interpretation of the fugue in the forest section, and perhaps further validation for the comparison of these two movements. 47

Large, Smetana, p. 280.

26

and Vltava’s observer seems tacitly male, Sárka and Z českých luhů a hájů both depict

female protagonists.

Approaching a formal analysis of the second and fourth movements reveals

further striking distinctions. Vltava’s formal and thematic organization, as previously

detailed, draws on the basic conventions of both sonata and rondo form, however much

it might play those off against one another. The formal structure of Z českých luhů a

hájů, by contrast, appears haphazard and disjointed, and the traditional formal

principles of sonata and rondo are not strongly present. Although it is possible to divide

the movement into three overarching sections, these sections do not have clear

boundaries, being defined more by an overabundance of material and the juxtaposition

of seemingly unrelated gestures than a clearly-defined and delineated formal

progression. Moreover, the work’s many themes transition abruptly from one to the

next and back and forth in an unpredictable manner, evoking a general feeling of

confusion, and often appear in fragmented form as they cut into one another. One

instance of this is shown in Example 8 with the interaction between a fragment of the

polka and a variant on the horn theme that provides the basis for the transition

between the forest section and the polka section (mm. 234 ff.). The polka’s brisk main

motive anticipates the coming section with several sharp interjections into the slow,

legato horn melody in the strings, a process that resembles the filmic technique of

parallel editing. On the whole, Z českých luhů a hájů’s disjunct formal and thematic

27

Example 8: Smetana, Z českých luhů a hájů, mm. 255-261.

organization provides a stark contrast to the smooth formal progression and thematic

integration of Vltava.

A final point of opposition emerges in the orchestration of the two poems.

Whereas Vltava’s is generally light and delicate, that of Z českých luhů a hájů is

frequently dark and ponderous, occasionally even clumsy. A comparison of the openings

of the two movements makes this contrast strikingly apparent: whereas Vltava’s

introduction is quiet, calm, and delicate, that of Z českých luhů a hájů is bold and

forceful, immediately setting a dark, ominous, and even forbidding tone. Likewise,

Example 9 compares the polkas of the two movements, which offer a remarkable

contrast: the brightly-scored and buoyant wedding polka of Vltava’s stream-side

wedding celebration is answered by a heavily-scored, almost sinister polka in Z českých

28

Example 9a: Smetana, Vltava, polka, mm. 136-143.

29

Example 9b: Smetana, Z českých luhů a hájů, polka, mm. 271-274.

30

luhů a hájů. The veiled scoring of primarily upper winds and strings, light articulation,

and continuous motion of Vltava’s G major polka creates the impression of being heard

from a distance; its G minor shadow in Z českých luhů a hájů is forcefully present with its

thick scoring (including heavy brass), strong accents, abrupt entrances, and sharp phrase

divisions. Additionally, Vltava’s polka remains firmly in G major while the polka from Z

českých luhů a hájů, though principally in G minor, is chromatically inflected with

frequent shifts of key.

The significant parallels and oppositions between Ma Vlast’s paired movements

reveal a deeper programmatic meaning and significance beyond the work’s given

program. As with Vltava, interpretations that rest at the level of Smetana’s program

notes do not provide adequate insight into these more subtle aspects of the poems’

individual and collective organization, as is especially evident with Z českých luhů a hájů.

Smetana’s description of the movement includes the following:

This is a general impression of feelings on seeing the Czech countryside. Here on all

sides fervent singing, both cheerful and melancholy, resounds from forest and field.

The woodlands – in a horn solo – and the merry fertile Elbe lowlands, and other

parts besides, all give praise. Everyone may interpret this work as he pleases; the

poet has a clear field before him, but must of course consider the work in detail.48

48

Ibid., p. 77 (emphasis added).

31

Encouraging the listener to “interpret this work as he pleases” but insisting that to

become a poet the listener “must of course consider the work in detail,”49 Smetana

intimates that his rather vague description alone will not suffice to understand

movement. Additionally, his use of the words “merry” and “cheerful” to describe certain

parts of the work does not account for its overall dark and dreary mood, particularly

when compared with its counterpart Vltava, or provide insight into its highly incoherent

structural and thematic organization that a closer analysis reveals.

When we understand the nature and arrangement of these movements in the

cycle as charting a particular formation of Czech identity, however, a deeper

programmatic meaning emerges, especially when interpreted in terms of the thesis-

antithesis-synthesis model outlined above. The opening pair of movements, Vyšehrad

and Vltava, provides glimpses of the public face of Czech culture - a composed public

image and persona of Czech identity as might be presented to outsiders: foreigners,

tourists, representatives of the Empire. These movements represent distanced,

external, and masculine narrative viewpoints and give programmatic emphasis to the

nation’s most well-known and important historical, geographical, and cultural sites –

namely, the nation’s founding castle in Prague and the famous river that unites the land

and the people. The clear formal and thematic organization of these movements also

communicates stability and assuredness. Sárka and Z českých luhů a hájů form an

49

Ibid.

32

antithesis to this public presentation, unearthing private, even hidden aspects of Czech

identity that the first two movements aim to conceal. Both Sárka and Z českých luhů a

hájů indicate, through a feminine lens, a personal journey and provide an inward

glimpse into the struggle of Czech identity, including the darker, more violent emotions

that must be continually stifled and kept from the public. In Sárka, this programmatic

expression comes in the form of a vengeful fantasy, a far less friendly legend than the

inspiring tale of Vyšehrad; in Z českých luhů a hájů, the solitary journey through

Bohemia’s secluded countryside and forests allows for an uninhibited expression of

Czechness that is likely not perceived by the observer looking in on Czech cultural life in

the city from the Vltava River. Finally, the markedly fragmented formal and thematic

structures of these movements, which convey musically something of the confusion and

frustration that plague the Czech people, stand in stark contrast to the opening pair.

Conflicting with the need to uphold an upright public image, this inner struggle is

brought to a climax in Tábor, which recalls the heroic strength and character of the

Hussite warriors in the fight to restore the nation’s unity and identity. However, in this

movement, stubborn inflexibility, symbolized musically by chorale fragments that fail to

join together in a complete coherent statement, proves a barrier to this restoration.

Blaník then reworks Tábor and proves a synthesis of the entire work; here, episodes

build and grow from one another, leading to a victorious conclusion that represents a

33

long-awaited uniting of the people as they recognize themselves in Smetana’s forward-

looking vision of a new Czech identity.

34

Hus’ Song

With this ideological project of forging a new Czech identity in mind, Má Vlast

becomes far more than a charming assortment of characteristic pictures of Czech

history, geography, and culture. Indeed, the work now charts a distinct path for

attaining this Czech identity. From this point of view, the initial questions pertaining to

the logic behind Vltava’s progression of scenes and the remarkable treatment of the

main theme that leads to the fragmented statement of the Vyšehrad theme, gain

newfound clarity and insight. Considering Vltava in the context of Má Vlast, particularly

the antithetical relationship Z českých luhů a hájů has with it, greatly changes the

significance of these events. In particular, Z českých luhů a hájů exposes the broken and

fragmented identity formation that Vltava works so hard to conceal. Certainly, my

earlier analysis shows that Vltava presents an overall formal and thematic structure that

adheres closely to convention and achieves a strong impression of unity. However,

taken in relation to Z českých luhů a hájů, the apparent formal control of Vltava seems

to be achieved only by suppressing rather than working through all vestiges of inward

struggle. If this is the case, Vltava should bear signs of this suppression, and indeed a

closer look at the movement’s organization reveals formal and thematic fragmentation

at a foundational level.

35

Subtle fragmentation is in fact already evident at the start in the divided stream.

As the two streams merging into the single stream that flows toward Prague represents

the progress of Czech identity to its new formation, the division at the river’s source

speaks to the contemporaneous divided state of the Czech nation as separated at its

very roots and emerging from a foundational state of disunity. Musically represented

through the running sixteenth-note motive that passes between various instruments to

create the illusion of a continuous flow, Czechs come together in a constant striving

effort to achieve a national, like-minded unity on the path to discovering a new Czech

identity. The curiously long introduction only serves to emphasize this fragmentation

and the significance of the laborious process of unification for the Czech people.

The fragmentation continues into the movement’s exposition, as the river

motive turns into the accompaniment for the main theme. The orchestration of the river

motive remains split between different parts, a representation of the nation’s deep-

rooted separation that can only be overcome, as it were, through virtuosic performance

of national identity. The main theme carries associations with Czech folksong and

therefore an established Czech tradition, and it effectively stands for the long-held

public conception of Czech identity and the image rooted in the nation’s history and

culture that they continue to uphold. The theme thus rides on the river motive,

musically symbolizing the paradoxical effort, the performative contradiction, of

sustaining the very image that conceals its fragmented foundation from public view.

36

Indeed, understood in terms of the travelogue, the river motive functions as a unifying

formal device and programmatic reminder of the steadily flowing river. But its divided

structure also reveals the inner workings of fragmentation that burdens the path to

achieving a Czech identity.

The river motive continues into the hunting episode, where it represents the

water as against the depiction of hunting on land. This opposition foreshadows the

antithetical relationship between Vltava and Z českých luhů a hájů that is itself

predicated upon the contrast of water and land. The river motive disappears with the

wedding episode, which is therefore fittingly the first expression of unity in the

movement, and the juxtaposition of the two episodes suggests division overcome

through a union. With the river motive and the division it signifies absent, the episode

depicts a jovial wedding celebration, although one not fully present: it sounds as though

in the distance. Although the wedding celebration highlights a characteristic dance of

the Czech people, it is also a symbolic rite celebrating unity and agreement that

expresses hope for the overcoming of separation and the progress of Czech identity.

The water sprites episode follows the wedding episode. According to the

travelogue, the scene of water sprites dancing in the moonlight calls forth associations

of Slavic mythology and fairytales. Elemental spirits, water sprites figure prominently as

protagonists in Czech fairytales. The juxtaposition of the wedding episode and the

appearance of the magical water sprites may be taken to symbolize the birth of a new

37

life or spirit that arises from the bond of unity. On this deeper programmatic level, the

long-awaited attainment of Czech unity promised by the wedding episode leads to the

creation of a distinct spirit of Czechness that hints at an emerging new Czech identity.

As should now be evident, these scenes along the riverbank are more than a

series of quaint images of Czech life and culture presented in an arbitrary order. Rather,

Smetana has arranged them in a very particular order that charts a specific cultural

geography of Czech identity. A comparison of analogous episodes in Z českých luhů a

hájů reveals this deep programmatic significance. While Vltava’s episodes are clearly

and evenly divided in form and theme with smooth transitions from one to the next and

distinctive thematic material that makes up each individual section, the episodes of Z

českých luhů a hájů, as I mentioned earlier, are presented simultaneously, continually

overlapping and cutting into one another with thematic material that frequently shifts in

an unpredictable manner to create the distinct effect of parallel editing. Z českých luhů a

hájů’s intercutting episodes are thus the opposite of Vltava’s stable episodes, whose

tableau presentation is fitting for the upright public image of Czech life and culture,

while their purposeful arrangement marks out at the same time a path to Czech identity

that is hidden in plain sight.

Vltava’s episodic sequence culminates in the first return of the Vltava theme,

which holds greater consequence when interpreted through the lens of Czech identity.

Formally, the reappearance of the main theme near the end of the work is a

38

conventional element in both rondo and sonata form, as return provides formal

rounding. This return in Vltava serves both an important formal and programmatic

event, as the re-emergence of the main theme in its original form fulfills the expectation

of formal rounding and redirects programmatic emphasis back to the river in keeping

with the program. But it also serves as a reminder of the definitive conception of Czech

identity, and particularly of the separation at its roots with the return of the fragmented

river motive. The return also further binds the main theme to the preceding progression

of scenes describing Czech culture by encapsulating them, thereby integrating them into

a burgeoning Czech public identity. In light of this growing sense of identity, the re-

emergence of the main theme programmatically serves as a final recollection of the

starting point of Czech identity and its submerged fragmented basis, which will

considerably reinforce the effect of the theme’s final transformation to come.

As it turns out, the developmental episode depicting the trip through the stormy

St. John’s Rapids prepares a profoundly transformational moment. From a formal

standpoint, this section builds developmentally up to the climax of the movement. From

a programmatic standpoint, the rapids symbolize a final barrier to be navigated; they

represent struggle and trials on the path to the formation of a new Czech identity.

Distinct from the conflicts that reflect the work’s suppression of fragmentation, this

more overt and violent representation of conflict is likely a reference to the outside

influences of political and cultural oppression that the Czechs had long withstood as

39

second-class citizens of a multi-ethnic empire. The apparent overcoming of this obstacle

is what leads to the work’s most pivotal moment and its central message pertaining to

the vision of a newfound Czech identity.

The full programmatic significance of Vltava’s final section and thus of the entire

movement emerges as we consider the transformation and trivialization of the main

theme and its subsequent displacement when the Vyšehrad theme arrives. Indeed, the

coda’s thematic progression affirms an idealized vision of the new Czech identity. In its

original form, drawn from and associated with Czech folksong, the main theme

represents a conventional Czech identity as defined by tradition and conceived for

public presentation and consumption. When the projected climactic return of the main

theme is redirected toward a different goal, Smetana tells us through his music that the

established image of Czech identity does not represent the future of the Czech nation.

Indeed, demoting the Vltava theme to a preparatory function ultimately indicates a

rejection of the traditional conception of Czech identity, paving the way for a new

future.

The climax does not bring a new identity, however, but the entrance of the

Vyšehrad theme, understood from the previous movement as representing hope for

future glory. According to the travelogue, this theme corresponds to the river flowing by

Vyšehrad, and its materialization as a fragmented, partial statement appropriately

conveys the impression of a grand monument in ruins. However, from the

40

programmatic standpoint of Czech identity formation, the fragmented form of the

Vyšehrad theme also alludes to an identity structured around and out of ruins. Through

this musical representation, Smetana commits to a particular conception of Czech

identity, one that will arise from the effective unification of the Czech people and

culture. While Smetana realizes that the Czech people, still striving to overcome internal

hindrances of division and disunity, have yet to attain this vision, the statement of the

Vyšehrad theme in ruins also testifies to the fact that this identity is not yet achieved,

that it has not yet gained full or complete expression, that its final form is not yet known

as it is a hope and vision that exists in and belongs to the future. The work’s concluding

measures further solidify this notion. The fragmented presentation of the main theme’s

rhythmic motive, outlining the tonic triad, gradually slows, rises upward, and comes to

rest on an open tonic sonority, with the third as the highest sounding member (m. 425,

see Example 7). Expressing a distinct sense of incompletion, this moment acknowledges

the new Czech identity as vague, uncertain, not yet. The hasty, tacked-on conventional

cadence that concludes the movement is thus a motion that, while bringing about

formal closure, also glosses over its ending state of incompletion by providing a neat

and orderly wrap-up that is programmatically consistent with the confident public

presentation of Czech identity. The abrupt cadence serves as a firm and final barrier

impeding the emergence of a new Czech identity while internal fragmentation and

41

separation remain, and also recognizes the emergence of a new Czech identity as

hindered by conventional attachments.

Uncovering these roots of separation and fragmentation beneath the stability

and continuity of Vltava’s largely conventional form and thematic treatment, we now

understand the programmatic aim of the coda as a vision of the Czech people

overcoming both external obstacles and internal separation as they work toward

celebrating national unity and expressing a distinct cultural identity. Placing Vltava in

the larger context of Má Vlast, we see the struggle to work through and overcome the

deep-seated issues of fragmentation at the core of the Czech identity taking place

across the entire cycle of tone poems, with the focus and function of the final

movement describing the process of rebuilding but also constructing a new Czech

identity. Indeed, the Vyšehrad theme returns again at the conclusion of Blaník and gains

greater and fuller expression than at the conclusion of Vltava, but even here it still fails

to attain a definitive statement. The remaining unfulfilled potential of the Vyšehrad

theme at the end of the cycle suggests that the newfound Czech identity, though

envisioned, has yet to appear.

42

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44

Vita

Kaitlin Lee Ericson was born in Edina, Minnesota. After completing her work at

Orono High School in Long Lake, Minnesota, she attended Saint Olaf College in

Northfield, Minnesota. She received a Bachelor of Music degree in saxophone

performance from Saint Olaf College in May, 2008. In August, 2008, she entered the

Graduate School at the University of Texas at Austin.

Permanent address: 305 144th Ave, Houlton, Wisconsin 54082

This report was typed by the author.