7.2 | / 10 |
| Users | 4.0 | |
| Reviewer | 4.0 | |
| Overall | 4.0 |
The oppressive atmosphere before a storm and the tragic fate of a tormented young woman form the indivisible elements of Katia Kabanova.
| Music | 100% |
Video codec: MPEG-4 AVC
Video resolution: 1080i
Aspect ratio: 1.78:1
Original aspect ratio: 1.78:1
Czech: DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1
Czech: LPCM 2.0
English, French, Spanish, German, Italian
25GB Blu-ray Disc
Single disc (1 BD)
Region A (B, C untested)
| Movie | 4.0 | |
| Video | 3.5 | |
| Audio | 4.5 | |
| Extras | 3.0 | |
| Overall | 4.0 |
The 19th century saw the rise of a whole strain of nationalism that spread rather potently beyond “mere” political events to inform a whole range of artistic pursuits. How odd, then, that in the relatively insular world of what was then Czechoslovokia three world class composers should arise within just a few years of each other. What’s perhaps even stranger is that one of them achieved world wide renown and is still a mainstay of orchestral repertoire everywhere, while the second is known chiefly for a couple of evocative tone poems. And the third? Well, there’s the rub. The first two are, not to state the obvious, Antonin Dvorak (1841-1904) and Bedrich Smetana (1824-1884). Bringing up the rear, perhaps both figuratively and literally, is the lesser known and more infrequently performed Leos Janacek (1854-1928), the last born of the three but often the most disparaged and disregarded, at least within the hoity-toity world of classical music criticism. If Smetana gave birth to the Czech national consciousness with regard to symphonic music, and Dvorak raised Smetana’s “child” to adulthood, Janacek is often seen as the bastard cousin who really shouldn’t be having children to begin with, considering his spotty “genetic” background. Part of the shame with regard to Janacek is that his extreme originality rubbed the academic ranks the wrong way, and his less than disciplined approach toward orchestration made him an enfant terrible to those more schooled in that art, leading to a whole raft of Janacek’s music having been “improved” by subsequent people who came along and thought with a little tweaking and editing they could shove the square peg that is Janacek into the round hole of accepted classical music norm. Really not until musicologists and conductors like Charles Mackerras came along to try to restore Janacek’s original conceptions have we had a clearer conception of just how innovative and expressive this transitional Czech voice really was. Janacek has managed to squirrel his way at least partially into operatic houses worldwide with a trifecta of challenging and highly original pieces, Jenufa, The Cunning Little Vixen and the piece that is performed on this interesting new Blu-ray release, Katia Kabanova (you’ll see the title transliterated in all sorts of interesting, vowel-challenged, ways due to the idiosyncrasies of the Czech language).


Katia Kabanova debuts on Blu-ray with an AVC encoded 1080i transfer in 1.78:1. The biggest issue with the image quality here is the pallid saturation of a rather bland palette, which is due largely to the blue lighting scheme which gives the bulk of the opera its ghostly hue. Flesh tones are anemic and sometimes bizarre looking, and the blue lighting robs a lot of the opera of fine detail, at least from midrange shots. Close-ups are much better in this regard, but the overall look of this piece is on the soft side. The opera has been filmed in a sort of quasi-epic style at times, with some brief tracking and dollying shots that help to break up the monotony of what is essentially a minimalist production which utilizes the distinctiveness of the onstage water, as well as several interesting projections, many of those watery as well, to create a claustrophobic atmosphere.

Both of the lossless audio options on this Blu-ray disc, a DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 and an LPCM 2.0, sound quite robust and offer excellent fidelity. Janacek's writing is quite pungent and dry at times, and the brisk reed work here comes through magnificently, with several outstanding uses of oboe and English horn. The orchestra, under the direction of Jiri Belohlavek, plays with admirable balance and restraint, just hinting at the emotions roiling beneath the surface of the often folksong like ambience of Katia. All of the singing sounds marvelous, and the balance between the soloists and the orchestra is also very good. Janacek uses the ensemble in some very unusual ways, including some offstage vocalese in the opera's closing moments, and the surround track nicely separates these segments with some smart utilization of side and rear channels.

Interview with Robert Carsen and Jiri Belohlavek (1080i; 23:43) offers the director and conductor giving some interesting and insightful thoughts about the symbology of the opera as well as Janacek's place in the world of both Czechoslovokia in particular and the international world in general.

Katia Kabanova proves that Janacek was one of the most incisive operatic composers of his era. There's virtually not a wasted gesture throughout this tight and relentless piece, and it receives an admirably innovative production here, highlighted by a tour de force performance by Mattila in the title role. Recommended.