Dvořák’s 1885 cantata for Birmingham has been praised in Gramophone for its ‘blend of horror and lyrical beauty’ (Jan Smaczny, 11/04) and condemned for ‘scarcely embody[ing] the romantic shudder’ (John Warrack, 7/93). The late Edward Greenfield revelled in the work’s freshness, vigour and rhythmic drive but I part with him on dismissing the cantata’s text, based on a poem by Karel Jaromír Erben.

That text is bewitching if we allow it to recount a light gothic fairy tale rather than a sincere religious parable. A woman is visited by the ghost of her former lover, who drags her through the night (owls screech, dogs howl, frogs croak) to the edge of his grave, at which point she pleads to the Virgin Mary and is rescued. The music too journeys evocatively with theatrical shifts in lighting wedded to Dvořák’s distinctive way with Czech words.

There is radiance aplenty in the central love duet and the composer’s device of having the baritone narrate the story to eager repetitions of final stanzas from the chorus (including the pantomime-like ‘bang, bang, bang’ on the window) would have delighted those oratorio-loving Victorians. In 2017 that device still holds out but Dvořák’s use of an elaborate choral fugue on the phrase ‘One leap and he cleared the wall’ seems one concession to the oratorio tradition too far.

This live recording has the edge on its predecessor from Gerd Albrecht on Orfeo. The sound is more immediate and the soloists are better. The chorus can sound geriatric but has more presence. Simona aturová is pure and innocent as the girl but thrills when she throttles up. Pavol Breslik is smooth and eager as her ghostly spouse, Adam Plachetka sage-like as the narrator. A nice little discovery; and Meister’s account will do just fine until a recording with a slightly fresher chorus and that bit more orchestral detail and grain comes along.