Jenn Langer
I am working towards the creation of a multi-media interactive program that explores the geography of Vltava, using text, sound, and pictures. It is truly exciting work: most people I meet have no interest in classical music because it seems, to them, to have little relevance to life in the late 20th century. I have found, however, that when I introduce the geographic component, enthusiasm quickly overcomes indifference. To understand Smetana's music is to understand, through his eyes, the people and the land he adored, and there are few richer experiences in this world than that.
These images are from photographs I took during my stay in Prague this summer. I was amazed at how well the music had prepared me for what I was going to see--as though I had seen it all before. I had not, of course, but I had certainly heard it before. And while the visual images lose some of their power without the music to accompany them, I offer these glimpses of Smetana's world to you.
This is the image we hear as the music of Vltava begins, and this opening melody will represent the river through the rest of the piece. The Vltava is a shallow stream at this point, clear and cool as it wanders through the countryside. In the flute and clarinet melodies, we can hear the water slipping over the mossy stones that rest on the bottom.
Suddenly, the music changes and we hear a rich melody from the string instruments. This is the song of the forest, but we can still hear the river's melody moving up and down underneath the new one. What follows is the description I wrote of this section of the music before I ever set foot on Czech soil: The river, shadowed by leafy trees, rambles through the forest. We can imagine gusts of wind that make the treetops dance to Smetana's song. The opening and closing of the leafy canopy drops glints of sunlight on the water. You can see how incredibly accurate an image is conjured up by the music--even down to the the most minute details. And all I did was listen.
These two images, heard in the music, depict the cultural geography of Bohemia. Smetana included the traditional folk dance in order to emphasize that the people who lived and celebrated and danced and died in Bohemia were as important to its geography as the land, the forest, and the river.
This is the Vysehrad (high castle). It is all in ruins now, and was during Smetana's time, but he would not portray it that way. In the music, we hear the castle as it once was: a shining declaration of Bohemia's glory, the home of princes and kings of long ago. But why did Smetana choose to compose the picture that way? Because the rock of the Vysehrad is a powerful symbol to the Czech people. It is, in folklore, the site of the original settlement of Prague, and has since been the location of several newer castles and fortresses. Walking among the ruins is like walking through a thousand years of history at once. It is indeed a place of monumental significance to Smetana's people, and it is, appropriately, his burial place as well.
This is Prague Castle. You can see that little has changed along the waterfront since 1874, and so the musical description is still quite accurate. Here, Smetana's song is glorious and majestic, with loud trumpet fanfares and crashing cymbals. It is a spectacular moment, and so beloved by the Czech people that they have made Ma Vlast the first piece of music performed every year at the opening concert of the Prague Spring music festival.
I can hardly convey to you through this medium the cultural density of this piece of music, one less than fifteen minutes long. As a piece of music, it is rich and beautiful. As a piece of geography, it is exciting and original. It is, indeed, the music of geography, and by far the most powerful stuff I have ever heard.
"I am proud to show that my homeland means more to me than anything else." --Bedrich Smetana
Jenn Langer
302 Walker
Department of Geography
The Pennsylvania State University
University Park, PA 16802
E-Mail: jal165@psuvm.psu.edu
Images and Text Copyright Jenn Langer