Fresh from a German concert tour, the BBC National Orchestra of Wales returned to complete the last leg of their season-long Bohemian Journey. It was perhaps predictable that the cycle of Dvorak symphonies at the heart of the series should prove less interesting than some of the other stops on the metaphorical journey. One of the strengths of conductor Richard Hickox is his readiness to programme unfamiliar pieces and, for this comparatively rare performance of Martinu's Field Mass, he took up the gauntlet with the quiet determination of a field marshal.
For Martinu, already in self-imposed exile in Paris and soon to be blacklisted for anti-Nazi protests, the declaration of war in 1939 brought into sharp focus feelings for his native Bohemia. He intended the Field Mass to be performed out of doors: "under the sky and clouds that unite us with soldiers and compatriots at home". Rather like Britten's War Requiem, the words combine vernacular poetry with extracts from psalms and the liturgy, while the scoring - male chorus, wind, percussion, harmonium and piano - is the kind of ad hoc small-scale ensemble that might be rustled up during a break in military operations. So, despite its martial fanfares and drums and the often elaborate instrumental interludes, well played by the BBC NOW musicians, there was still a jaunty, ramshackle air to the proceedings. Yet there is also humanity and profundity in the seeming naivety of Martinu's setting, and baritone Alan Opie portrayed the ordinary sentry on duty who cries out to God with a noble, touching sincerity.
The sense of kinship across the generations of Czech composers emerged strongly over this series, but although Josef Suk here conveniently linked Dvorak and Martinu, his Fantastic Scherzo was all water-sprite tunes and hobgoblin drama. After that, Dvorak's Eighth Symphony came as a relief. It was played with the goodwill with which an orchestra tends to repay the composer for the generosity of his themes and counterpoints, though without any great insight from Hickox. Smetana's Vltava from Ma Vlast brought the journey to a suitably buoyant end.
