Libor Pesek’s enterprising Suk series with the RLPO for Virgin Classics has now reached the Czech master’s final symphonic utterance, Epilogue (1920-9). Scored for soprano, baritone, bass, large and small mixed choruses and orchestra, and running for 40 minutes without a break, Epilogue was described by its creator as “the last part of a cycle, the spirit of which manifested itself for the first time in Asrael: it goes through the whole of human life, into reflection on death and the dread of it, before the appearance of the song of earthly love – all this leading up to the exhilarating song of liberated mankind”. The work’s earliest ideas are to be found in the first section (“Steps” – the title comes from a helpful programme for the piece devised by Suk’s biographer, J. M. Kvet). This grew out of a setting of Psalm 23 dating from around 1907 (shortly after Suk had completed Asrael), whereas the noble concluding Adagio molto tranquillo (“The Pilgrim”) adapts a text from Julius Zeyer’s play, Under the apple-tree (for which Suk had already supplied some charming incidental music in 1902).
Pesek’s massed forces bring genuine enthusiasm, vigour and dedication to Suk’s extraordinarily ambitious, subtly clothed creation, the music’s kaleidoscopic range of colour and mood conveyed with commendable sensitivity and unerring perception. If the results are at times marginally less refined than on Vaclav Neumann’s meticulously polished 1986 set, Pesek’s ever-involving conception is undoubtedly the more satisfying in its clear-headed rigour and cumulative thrust. Mike Clements’s lucidly balanced, spectacularly full and wide-ranging engineering handles those positively seismic tuttis in the last section with some aplomb, and John Tyrrell’s notes carry the requisite authority. There are, however, some irritating discrepancies in the presentation: the entry of the women’s chorus which marks the start of the second section (“Mothers’ Song”) comes not with track 5 but occurs at 1'36'' into the preceding track; and tracks 3 and 4 actually last 3'04'' and 5'05'' respectively and not 4'05'' and 4'04'' as stated in the booklet.
Pesek’s new account of A Fairy Tale (into which we are plunged after a gap of a mere four seconds) faces formidable competition from his own 1981 recording with the Czech PO. In the gorgeous opening tableau the excellent violin soloist (surprisingly uncredited, though it is in fact RLPO Principal Malcolm Stewart) plays with a poignant restraint and unaffected purity that I find extremely moving (the lusciously expressive vibrato employed by the Czech PO’s Petr Skvor will perhaps not be to all tastes). Again, Pesek directs with considerable imagination and flair (the arresting start of the last movement certainly generates a heady sense of spectacle here). If that earlier account continues to have the edge in terms of tangy local colour (and I’m thinking in particular of that chirpy wind band in the “Polka”) and dramatic cutting edge, Suk’s radiant score is imbued with an extra human warmth and wistful intimacy on Merseyside that provide ample compensation. A most welcome issue.'