Czech Philharmonic
Part of: Spotlight on the Year of Czech Music
Performers
Czech Philharmonic
Semyon Bychkov, Chief Conductor and Music Director
Yo-Yo Ma, Cello
Program
DVOŘÁK Cello Concerto in B Minor
SMETANA Selections from Má vlast
Encores:
TRAD. "Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen" (Yo-Yo Ma)
DVOŘÁK "Goin' Home" (after Largo from Symphony No. 9, "From the New World"; arr. Fisher) (Yo-Yo Ma)
DVOŘÁK Slavonic Dance in C Major, Op. 46, No. 1
DVOŘÁK Slavonic Dance in E Minor, Op. 72, No. 2
Event Duration
The printed program will last approximately two hours, including one 20-minute intermission. Please note that there be no late seating before intermission.Listen to Selected Works

Year of Czech Music
Carnegie Hall joins music lovers around the world for the 2024 Year of Czech Music, a decennial celebration that highlights legendary Czech composers.
Dvořák’s Cello Concerto and Smetana’s Má vlast are both epic works with varying levels of musical storytelling. Tonight, we hear the first three segments of Smetana’s six-part cycle inspired by the history, landscape, and people of the Czech lands. It begins with an invocation of the great Vyšehrad castle towering over the Vltava (Moldau) River. The opening chords, suggesting a stolid hymn (and Wagner’s Tannhäuser) provide much of the material for the first part (and Vyšehrad reappears to end Vltava and the entire cycle itself). Vltava is simply one of the most popular pieces of classical music. It uses the metaphor of a flowing river to draw together the land and its inhabitants, from the river itself to such things as a hunt, peasant wedding, water sprites dancing in the moonlight, and rapids. The work is simultaneously programmatic and in another sense completely abstract. The third symphonic poem, Šárka, is a colorful and somewhat bloody romp, filled with love, lust, betrayal, snoring soldiers, and a massacre.
If Smetana’s cycle was an avowedly nationalist work with something of a story line and written in the Czech lands, Dvořák’s concerto—composed in New York City—has neither story nor explicit references to things Czech. And yet although the Cello Concerto is one of the best-written works in the genre, there are subtle and powerful undercurrents that add to its mystique. Several decades after the composer’s death, and shortly after the death of his wife, Josef Suk—also Dvořák’s son-in-law—revealed that Dvořák had been in love with his wife’s sister, Josefina, before he married Anna. Further, the song quoted in the middle movement, “Leave me alone,” was a favorite of Josefina’s. The “secret”—if that’s what it is—might have remained hidden forever, but for the fact that after finishing the work, the composer added an extended coda upon the death of Josefina, incorporating yet another part of the same song. In other words, it would not be far-fetched to consider the concerto somewhat autobiographical, with Dvořák himself playing the role of the soloist.
—Michael Beckerman