The Jacobin – review

Apart from Rusalka, Dvořák's operas are rarely revived outside the Czech Republic. Quite why is a mystery, particularly when you hear The Jacobin, first performed in 1888. Revived by Jiří Bělohlávek and the BBC Symphony as part of their Czech opera series, it's a complex comedy that deals with themes of exile and return, and the power of music to affect lives.

We're in the aftermath of the French Revolution. Czech idealist Bohuš returns with his wife, Julie, from France after becoming disillusioned with politics, only to find himself branded a Jacobin and disinherited. But change, he soon realises, is also needed in his home town, where the mayor is using his authority to press his attentions on Terinka, the spirited daughter of a local music teacher, and have her lover, Jiří, conscripted into the army.

Music is portrayed throughout as a humanising force capable of bringing about social harmony, so it's no wonder Dvor˘ák professed himself in love with his subject. It's a great score. The final father-son reconciliation is perhaps on a lesser level than the rest of it, but elsewhere the music seethes with inventiveness, as one terrific folk-based number follows another.

Bělohlávek and his mostly Czech cast were in their element with it, too. Bělohlávek has done nothing finer. The singing was consistently sensational: Svatopluk Sem's noble Bohuš, Dana Burešová's Julie, Ales Vorácek's plucky Jiří and Jaroslav Březina as the fussy music teacher Benda were particularly outstanding. A joy and a privilege to hear.