Three important Czech composers who aren't Dvořák: (left to right) Biber, Smetana and Wanhal

What we now recognise as the Czech Republic is the result of a sometimes complicated history, a central European country that was often subordinate to other powers. Absorbed by the Third Reich, it was otherwise part of Czechoslovakia for most of the 20th century – an independent nation before World War Two and a satellite state of the Soviet Union afterwards. For the best part of the previous four centuries, it had been one of the many constituent states of the Hapsburg empire, so for it to have maintained any cultural independence is not mean feat. Dvořák is of course the best-known of the composers to have emerged from the country, but there is a good deal more to Czech music than him – something we hope to redress in this article, following the example of our Bohemian Rhapsodies concerts (16-17 April).

A note on names before we go on. Many of the composers covered here (especially those active in the days of the Austrian empire) adopted the German form of their names, probably for pragmatic reasons; we will follow suit, if only that is because how they are best known today. It admittedly doesn’t hold true of the earliest – Simon Bar Jona Madelka and Jan Trojan Turnovský among them, both of whom emerged in the 16th century – but that is a likely reflection of low levels of migration at the time. By the 17th century, however, we have the likes of Alberik Mazák: born in what is now southern Poland, he moved to Austria where, as Alberich Mazak, he wrote in excess of 300 mostly sacred choral works.

This brings us to Heinrich Ignaz Franz Biber, whose name will be familiar to violinists as the composer of the Rosary Sonatas, key works in their repertoire that predate Bach’s sonatas by nearly half a century. (Our bias aside, it’s worth mentioning that our Principal Guest Conductor Andrew Manze – who is also a violinist – recorded them to great acclaim in 2016.) Like Mazak, Biber also composed a good deal of music for the church, including the 1682 Missa Salisburgensis, one of the most opulent works of Baroque sacred music: its forces include two eight-part choirs and no fewer than 15 brass instruments!

Among the other Czech emigrants of the period, we find Jan Dismas Zelenka (who settled in Dresden), Gottfried Finger (who ended up in Mannheim after working everywhere from London and Innsbruck) and Franz Xaver Richter, whose career took him to Strasbourg. We might wonder if opportunities for advancing their careers at home were a bit limited, but the flipside would suggest that they had fine musical training to back up their ambitions. It’s not until a little later in the 18th century that we find instances of native Czechs remaining put, among them Mozart’s friend František Xaver Dušek. (For more on Mozart’s warm relationship with Prague audiences, click here).

Vienna was fast becoming the city for composers to seek their fortune. Johann Baptist Wanhal, another composer whose career took him across Europe, eventually settled in the imperial capital, where his focus on chamber music (a lucrative genre among the middle class) earned him a comfortable living. He was also highly respected by several generations of composers, from Haydn to Schubert, and as such, it is surely high time for a Wanhal revival.

The same can be said of Jan Ladislav Dussek, a near contemporary of Beethoven’s who arguably had an even greater influence on 19th-century piano writing. Both composers contributed significantly to the development of the piano as an instrument, in Dussek’s case thanks to the relationship he fostered with the pianomaker John Broadwood over the decade or so he lived in London. Stylistically, however, his style anticipates the early Romantics – specifically Chopin and Schumann – and as a touring pianist with a tendency towards flamboyant virtuosity, he may even have paved the way for Liszt’s own piano recitals of the 1840s.

This brings us within spitting distance of Dvořák (who was born in 1841), at which point it is tempting to look for the least sign of attempts to give Czech culture its due. The publication of a five-volume bilingual Czech-German dictionary in the 1830s was a significant milestone in this regard and, from a purely musical perspective, opera proved to be especially significant. František Škroup had been staging many written in the Czech language at the Estates Theatre in Prague since 1827, though today, he is remembered chiefly for having written the Czech national anthem.

There is another vitally important pre-Dvořák composer to highlight, one whose importance is frequently overlooked outside his homeland: Bedřich Smetana. Criticised early in his career for being too much in thrall to Liszt (then regarded as a radical modernist), he finally achieved lasting success with the sparkling comedy The Bartered Bride in 1866. (His other seven operas remain little-known outside his homeland, where they are cornerstones of the repertoire.) It was not until the 1880s, however, that Smetana was widely acknowledged as the father of Czech music, though of his other works, only Vltava has become well-known internationally – albeit under its German title The Moldau.

We needn’t dwell too long on Dvořák here, save to point out the role that the industrial revolution played in his gaining a wider recognition in his own lifetime. Although there wasn’t an enormous age difference between him and Smetana – only 17 years – the older composer was beset by deafness in his final decade, at a time when Dvořák was able to travel first to Britain (a country he would visit no fewer than eight times), then Russia and, most significantly, the United States – no mean feat for someone who had been described as an unknown composer in the German press in 1878.

With Czech music having finally gained an international reputation, the stage was set for many more composers to appear. Leoš Janáček (a great favourite of the late Sir Charles Mackerras) is among the most prominent: remarkably prolific and is often surprisingly modernist in style, he was another Czech composer to appreciate the importance of opera, many of which are still performed today. Josef Suk, a pupil of Dvořák (and his eventual son-in-law) is best-known for his orchestral works, including a Serenade for Strings much admired by Brahms and the much larger-scale Asrael Symphony.

At the other end of the scale, Julius Fučík embraced the fashion for lighter music at the dawn of the 20th century – though Entrance of the Gladiators has been indelibly associated with the circus ever since – while Rudolf Friml would later find fame on Broadway as the composer of operettas and musicals. Bohuslav Martinů had moved to France in the Roaring Twenties (where he wrote La revue de cuisine, a work included in our Bohemian Rhapsodies concerts), settling on a neoclassical style that still found room for his native folk melodies and an occasional excursion into jazz. He fled to the United States in the wake of the Nazi invasion of Europe; others (including Pavel Haas and Hans Krása) perished in the concentration camps.

Sláva Vorlová, the first prominent female Czech composer, lost her husband to the war, towards the middle of a long life during which she wrote a vast array of works, among them several concertos. Vítězslava Kaprálová was much shorter-lived (she died aged only 25, possibly of typhoid fever), the Suite en Miniature being the first of an impressive body of work – it opens our Bohemian Rhapsodies programme – and was also a noted conductor. More recently, the prolific Elena Petrová combined composition with teaching music theory at the Charles University in Prague.

Away from the strictly classical scene, Czech composers also embraced new technologies afforded by the 20th century: Zdeněk Liška worked prominently in Czech cinema, composing the scores of several films including animated shorts by the surrealist Jan Švankmajer. Like Jan Novák, he coupled this with a keen interest in the potential of electronic instruments. The music of Miloslav Ištvan, in the meantime, shows a magpie-like approach to his influences, which extends from a Bartók-like interest in folk music to African folklore, sometimes via the prism of pop music.

Since the Second World War, we have perhaps become more familiar with Czech performers: to name but two examples, the conductor Rafael Kubelík enjoyed an international career that culminated in his becoming Chief Conductor of the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra, while Josef Suk (grandson of the composer) was a noted violinist and violist. We should not overlook the country’s fine orchestras either, which continue to enjoy fine reputations far and wide – the Czech Philharmonic, for instance, was named Orchestra of the Year by Gramophone in 2024.

Amid all this, however, Czech composers have continue to thrive. Zdeněk Lukáš was especially prolific, especially in terms of concertos and chamber music, while many others (Petr Eben among them) have made significant contributions to their homeland’s enormous amount of choral music. Their native music of course remains a strong influence of many Czech composers to this day, such as Jiří Teml (whose chamber music dwarfs the rest of his compositions), while of the younger generation, Šimon Voseček already has four operas to his name.