The work “Šárka” by Zdeněk Fibich tells one of the legends of the Czech foundation. It allows dictatorships of men and women to rampage against each other. After almost 50 years the national show was performed again in Prague. Passion blazes, the Czech Republic shines – in death and despair.
Bohemia is close to the sea. At least in the poetic universe of William Shakespeare. And once upon a time even a mythological Amazonian army marched here through completely un-Greek groves and meadows. The legendary “Bohemian Maid Wars” became the subject of various nationalist fairy tales in the 19th century.
And this small honest country, which today has almost eleven million inhabitants, has already given the world of international opera unique female characters such as the sold bride Marie, Rusalka, Jenufa and Elina Makropoulos. It is fitting that of the four original Czech legends, two have female heroines whose destinies are linked to each other.
There is the fortune teller Libuša, descendant of the founder Čech, who marries the farmer Přemysl, becomes the founder of the Bohemian Přemyslid dynasty and founds the city of Prague on the Vyšehrad castle hill. In 1881 Bedřich Smetana dedicated a super-patriotic opera to her, which inaugurated the National Theater in Prague. It was republished almost simultaneously in Prague and Brno in 2018, on the occasion of the centenary of the founding of the independent Czech Republic, once in a stone-age stupid look, the other time intelligent and highly political.
Libuša’s feminist regime was followed by the Amazons in the Bohemian heroic chronicle Sarkawho are obviously threatened by Přemysl’s warlike men. But when Šárka lures her companion Ctirad into an ambush, she falls in love with him - similar to Bellini’s Druid priestess Norma with the Roman warrior Pollio – and betrays her companions for him, who are massacred. Haunted by their ghosts, she remorsefully leaps from a rock to her death.
In 1876 the tale Šárka became one of Smetana’s six-tone poems for the cycle “My Homeland”, which to this day always opens the Prague Spring music festival. “Šárka” is also the name of Leoš Janáček’s second opera, composed in 1887 and performed for the first time only in 1925, but it was never successful.
Wagner wavering and full of pathos
The three-act play of the same name, dark, Wagnerian and full of pathos, performed for the first time in 1897 at the National Theater in Prague, has instead become a national treasure. Conductor Jakub Hrůša is particularly enthusiastic about his melodramas, especially “Hippodamia”, which are obviously no longer performed even in his homeland. While the historically divided Poles chose Stanisław Moniuszko’s harmless comedy of confusion “The Haunted Castle” (1865) as their national work, the Czechs worship it in a much more martial and pompous way.
“Šárka”, last performed in Prague in 1979 and performed for the first time in Germany only in 2012 in Braunschweig, was expressly requested by Robert Jindra, conductor and musical director of the three now merged Prague musical theatres: the National Theatre, the (formerly Teatro) State Opera and the venue of Mozart’s first performance, the Ständetheater. And his Norwegian director Per Boye Hansen gave in to him, also entrusting him with the German director Kay Link, with whom he had worked in Essen.
This new “Šárka” looks and feels very good. Link and his team of designers Frank Albert (stage, video) and Nina Reichmann (costumes) highlight the uncertainty of two dictatorial regimes: women and men, especially in these days of fragile democracies and growing autocrats.
And none of them are slightly better. Both intrigue, are power-hungry, incite and murder. The individual feelings and destinies of individuals who do not want to submit to the collective mission are crushed between irreconcilable blocks.
The barren stage of Prague shows only gray concrete surfaces, stairs and platforms for the castles of Vyšehrad and Děvín, bare trees for the sacrificial grove where the forbidden love between Šárka and Ctirad bursts out powerfully and sonorously between natural sounds and emotional expression. The only color that brings color is the stylized dove logo on the masculine red and the feminine neon light crown, which quickly falls out of sync and only comes together symbolically after Šárka’s sacrificial death. Kay Link works with confidently organized mass choreographies, which are tackled by the protagonists who wait as if petrified.
Andrea Berg with the shotgun
They come to life through the fiery and impetuous music of Fibich, whose most important pupil was Franz Lehár, with soulful cello solos and wind interjections, which give warmth and truthfulness to the extraordinary figures. Robert Jindra releases a great and energetic sound power, but always remains transparent and balanced. Rumors are never hidden.
Of course they have everything. While the red-haired, square-bodied Czech Andrea Berg with the shotgun, Maida Hundeling lets the flames of a cutting torch blaze vocally and melodically cuts her way through the orchestral sound. Even the mellow, organ-like voice of Ester Pavlù, disfigured with a gray braid, as the Amazonian leader Vlasta, takes no prisoners.
Tadeusz Szlenkier in the role of mini-Siegmund pushes tirelessly through the grateful part of the Ctirad between prayer and attack, sigh of love and attack. And Přemysl Svatopluk Sems in cornflower blue dress also has a pleasant baritone.
The choirs lash out, archaic passion flares up, the Czech Republic shines. At least tonight at the opera. Even if it ends in death and despair. But the world in front of the Prague theater at the moment is not particularly beautiful.
Interview with Dr. Anna Novák, Expert in Czech Opera and Folklore
Editor (Time.news): Welcome, Dr. Novák! It’s a pleasure to have you with us to discuss the recent revival of Zdeněk Fibich’s opera “Šárka.” This piece seems to hold significant cultural weight in the Czech Republic. What can you tell us about its historical context and its relevance today?
Dr. Novák: Thank you for having me! “Šárka,” rooted in Czech legend, reflects the deep cultural narratives that have shaped our national identity. The opera intertwines themes of conflict, betrayal, and the struggle for power, particularly between genders—a concept that resonates strongly in today’s world, where discussions about equality and power dynamics are at the forefront. Its return to the stage after nearly 50 years is symbolic of our ongoing journey in grappling with these themes.
Editor: Absolutely. In the article, there’s a mention of the ‘Bohemian Maid Wars’ and their relevance in 19th-century nationalist narratives. How do you see these historical narratives influencing contemporary interpretations of works like “Šárka”?
Dr. Novák: Historical narratives provide a framework through which we can examine our current societal structures. The ‘Maid Wars’ and nationalistic folklore helped foster a sense of identity and pride, particularly during the tumultuous periods in Czech history. Today, as we reinterpret “Šárka,” we can see parallels in our own society, where struggles for power and identity persist. The operatic portrayal of women like Šárka positions them as complex characters, rather than mere archetypes, reflecting the nuanced discussions we’re having about gender roles today.
Editor: That’s a fascinating perspective. You mentioned complexity in characters; “Šárka” features themes of betrayal and tragic love. How does Fibich’s portrayal of these themes compare to other works in the Czech operatic canon, particularly Smetana’s operas?
Dr. Novák: Fibich’s “Šárka” indeed complements the works of Smetana, who often presented female characters as embodiments of virtue and national identity. In contrast, Šárka’s character is layered with darkness and complexity, almost echoing the tragic fate of many heroines throughout European operatic history. While Smetana’s portrayal in works like “The Bartered Bride” celebrates Czech ingenuity and uplifting narratives, Fibich dives into the emotional turmoil and moral dilemmas faced by individuals caught in the crossfire of collective ambitions.
Editor: The latest production of “Šárka,” as noted in the article, emphasizes a stark and contemporary aesthetic, reflecting the tension between male and female power dynamics. How does this modern interpretation affect the audience’s reception?
Dr. Novák: The minimalist set design with its concrete surfaces symbolizes the harsh realities of power struggles, stripping away romanticized notions and forcing the audience to confront the raw emotions and consequences of these conflicts. This visual representation resonates with today’s reality—where political themes of power and control are prevalent globally. Audiences are more likely to connect with the characters’ struggles, seeing them not just as historical figures, but as reflections of our modern dilemmas.
Editor: That’s a powerful observation. As we reflect on the revival and the themes at play, what do you hope audiences take away from this production of “Šárka”?
Dr. Novák: I hope audiences leave with a deeper understanding of the multifaceted dynamics of power and emotion within relationships. “Šárka” serves as a reminder that the fight for identity and autonomy is ongoing. By reflecting on our past through such operatic masterpieces, we can engage with crucial discussions about gender, power, and moral responsibility in our present and future.
Editor: Thank you, Dr. Novák, for your insights. It’s clear that “Šárka” is much more than an opera; it’s a reflection of our continuous human experience, and your expertise sheds valuable light on its significance.
Dr. Novák: Thank you for having me! It’s been a pleasure discussing this important work with you.