All the rhetoric, all those righteous politicians wearing their regulation "we are visionaries" expressions, all the mud slinging and point scoring, that embarrassing sensation of "here we go again" - while barely a week into the election campaign, those posters are already adding to the nation's litter, writes Eileen Battersby
A wag with a head for heights somewhere in Co Offaly pinned a maverick plastic bag on the nose of a poster-Bertie. Depending on the force of the wind, varying amounts of Bertie's face is said to appear. Oblivious to this the leader gazes benignly into the middle distance, his brave new world of monumental sports arenas outweighing those whingers moaning on about hospital bed shortages. What's a trolley night or two with the lads heading to Japan? Bertie's bag flutters in the breeze, the politicians yak on and here comes the rain - all the more reason to flock to the National Concert Hall on Saturday evening to enjoy a live performance of a masterpiece by a true visionary, Antonin Dvorak. He was one of the last Romantics, a 19th century composer with an often modern sound. Saturday's RTÉ production featuring Our Lady's Choral Society and the RTÉ Concert Orchestra, under Proinnsias O Duinn, of Dvorak's magnificent Requiem should inspire even the most election-weary.
It is the first time the society, formed in 1945, has performed the work. It is also a first time for O Duinn who says although the score he has is so old the pages were stuck together, the piece was new to him and it has proved a revelation. He says he can't recall "a previous performance in Ireland in living memory" - another reason to book a ticket.
It is a glorious, hugely ambitious work, an oratorio written for concert performance, and requiring a strong choir and full orchestra. Czech, indeed Slavic in essence, it is also universal while its choral impact has echoes of two other great 19th century requiems, that of Verdi's lavish, near operatic score and Brahms's subtly majestic Ein Deutsches Requiem. Dvorak's is a miracle of colour, shifting tones and moods, darkness into light. It is operatic and also melodic, possessing the power of a symphony and the intimacy of a prayer.
Written in Latin in 1890 it was not his first choral work, as he had already composed his Stabat Mater. Completed in 1877, this followed the deaths of his three children; Josefa died two days after her birth in 1876, 11-month-old Ruzena accidentally swallowed phosphorous and only three weeks after that tragedy, smallpox killed Otakar. Dvorak's Stabat Mater, with its medieval liturgical text setting, is the longest by any major composer. It was the first Czech oratorio and a performance of it at the Albert Hall in 1884 not only established him in England, where the form enjoyed immense popularity, but gave him one of his greatest public triumphs.
The Requiem is very different; less formal, it juxtaposes emotions with the grief of the first section eventually yielding to the hope expressed in the second. Dvorak exploits the soloists both as a group within themselves as well as using them as individuals in conjunction with the choir in all possible form, in solo, duet and trio, soaring above the choir and also in conversation with it.
Dvorak felt his English success was valuable for the cause of Czech art; it also made him financially independent and enabled him to buy a country house at which he composed in the summer house by day and by evening drank with local peasants and miners. There was always an apolitical purity about Dvorak's love of country that typifies all that is best in the celebration of heritage.
He is widely hailed as a master of the symphonic form, and his Cello Concerto in B Minor is possibly the finest ever composed for that instrument. There were many sides to the Czech. Born the son of a butcher in 1841, he was apprenticed to the family business as his music-loving father insisted. Music was always his love.
By the age of 16 he had persuaded his father to allow him study at the organ school in Prague, a general music school. They both walked the 26 miles south to the city. He celebrated the beauty of folk music incorporating many elements of it in his work. He was a fine viola player, had a natural feel for the symphony composing nine including, No 9 From the New World and although he suffered the tragic deaths of his children, he was basically a happy man who loved the countryside, was an obsessive train-watcher and also knew a great deal about birds.
Humanity is one of his enduring qualities and he shares this with his favourite composer, Schubert. Both composed highly accessible, approachable music graced by rich, memorable tunes and an enduring flow of melody. There is spontaneity, beauty and energy. It was Dvorak the Bohemian stylist who gave us the Slavonic Dances. Early in his career he won the support of Brahms and they became close friends. The German composer, some eight years older, was generous and supportive. Brahms was among the panel of judges involved when Dvorak won his second Austrian State Stipendium, a type of bursary offered to poor young artists in the western half of the Empire.
In 1878, Dvorak entered the competition for the fourth time, obviously still in need of the money. Brahms took charge, wrote to his own publisher, recommending the Moravian Duets. "Dvorak has written all kinds of music.and is very talented. He is also very poor! I beg you to think the matter over." On first hearing Dvorak's Cello Concerto, Brahms said he wished he could write one as good.
Invited to the US, Dvorak worked there as director of the National Conservatory of Music for three homesick years, before returning to the Prague Conservatory in 1895. Beautiful works followed including the opera, Rusalka (1900).
He died suddenly on May 1st, 1904, on his way to May Day celebrations. Ever a lover of life, his legacy is rich haunting music that lives as does this wonderful Requiem which looks far more to life than death.