Dreadful to think that while I was comfortably listening to Smetana’s stormy evocation ‘St John’s Rapids’ in ‘Vltava’ the actual river had burst its banks and Prague was in state of dire emergency. Such is music’s power to stir‚ especially music such as Má vlast which is inextricably associated with the very soul of the Czech people. Even now I cannot banish that terrible news footage from my mind. On a rather more trivial note‚ these particular releases‚ both of them eminently worthy in their very different ways‚ join a veritable crowd of Má vlasts that has gathered apace since the advent of CD in the early ’80s. Like Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony‚ Smetana’s patriotic cycle helped define the new format’s potentially ‘generous’ playing times. Not that Václav Neumann’s Leipzig recording did‚ or would have‚ qualified for a single­disc release back then‚ given that it plays for a couple of seconds under 80 minutes‚ and that’s only with pauses between movements reduced to a workable minimum. In one instance – the segue from ‘Sarka’ to ‘From Bohemia’s Fields and Groves’ – the tightening process accentuates a dramatic key change‚ much to the music’s advantage. Neumann’s Leipzig performance (he later re­recorded the work in Prague) is weighty‚ expansive‚ beautifully played and generally well recorded‚ save for one or two tape glitches and a very unfortunate second or so of total silence at around 2'02" into ‘Tabor’. Only you can decide whether the strength and dedication of Neumann’s performance is significant enough to ‘fill in’ the silence each time you hear it. Speaking personally‚ it would drive me bonkers (I sampled two separate copies of the CD and both had the same fault). High spots of Neumann’s performance include the big­hearted central statement of the principal theme in ‘From Bohemia’s Fields and Groves’ and the thunderous climax of ‘Vltava’. ‘Sarka’ is taut and dramatic but then so is Libor PeÅek’s Czech Phil performance‚ even more so at the blood­curdling close where you easily pick up the tense vibes of a live occasion. This 1995 Prague Spring Festival Má vlast is swifter overall than its 1989 PeÅek­led RLPO predecessor for Virgin which‚ although similarly well observed (and marginally better recorded)‚ is cumulatively less exciting. The closing minutes of ‘Blánik’ are beautifully done: the strings inflect their phrases to fine effect and never mind that 2'46"or so into ‘Vltava’ horns and trumpets fall out of synch. I found Neumann’s ‘Tabor’ more imposing but PeÅek’s reading is livelier overall‚ lighter in texture‚ less ‘teutonic’. But how does it stack up alongside the competition? Fairly well‚ I’d say‚ being better recorded than Václav Talich (1954) though not as majestic. PeÅek on Regis is well worth considering‚ a good central reading without either specific mannerism or the sort of breathtaking quality that instantly draws you back. For that you’ll need Talich‚ or Rafael Kubelík in Munich.