Bohemian Voice

Maestro, could you begin by telling us a bit about your background?

Ah, yes… I vas born in 1841, in a small village near Prague, in Bohemia. My father vas a butcher, my mother a simple, steadfast voman vith a love for folk songs. My family had little vealth, little expectation beyond the ordinary trades of life. Yet I felt Music as a calling — not for fame, but as a vay to capture the spirit of Bohemia itself. I vas not born a prodigy like some; I had to vork, to study, to listen, and to shape my gift slovly.

Music vas everyvhere around me, even though I vas not born to it professionally. I learned the violin in the village, and at the church, I played in the local ensembles — but I vas alvays dravn to the melodies of our people, the dances, the songs sung in the fields.

Transcript

George - bold

Anton Dvořák - bold, italics

Musical attribution at end of transcript

1 Goin Home from the New World Symphony

Welcome back to Celebrate Creativity - the opening Music for this podcast episode is “going home”: - a spiritual based on music from the New World Symphony by our guest today.

2 GHOST enters

Maestro, could you begin by telling us a bit about your background?

Ah, yes… I vas born in 1841, in a small village near Prague, in Bohemia. My father vas a butcher, my mother a simple, steadfast voman vith a love for folk songs. My family had little vealth, little expectation beyond the ordinary trades of life. Yet I felt Music as a calling — not for fame, but as a vay to capture the spirit of Bohemia itself. I vas not born a prodigy like some; I had to vork, to study, to listen, and to shape my gift slovly. Music vas everyvhere around me, even though I vas not born to it professionally. I learned the violin in the village, and at the church, I played in the local ensembles — but I vas alvays dravn to the melodies of our people, the dances, the songs sung in the fields.

So Maestro, vould you vould say that you came from humble beginnings.

Ah, Herr Bartley, I definitely came from humble beginnings. By the time I entered the Prague Organ School — my first formal education in music — I knev I must take the folk spirit of my homeland and give it voice in forms that could stand on the concert stage. That duality — the humble, heartfelt Bohemian melodies and the grand, classical structures — has alvays defined my vork.

Maestro, after your early experiences in the village, hov did your formal musical education begin?

Ah, Herr Bartley, my musical education began vith the organ. At age 12, I vas sent to study a small tovn, vhere I learned to play the church organ. Those hours alone at the keys taught me discipline — hov to shape sound, hoW to bring emotion from structure. It vas not a glamorous path, but I cherished every lesson. Hotel size that

Who most influenced your musical voice during these years?

Schubert and Brahms taught me about form, lyricism, and orchestration. I remember vividly hearing Brahms conduct once in Prague — I vas trembling in the audience, thinking, “This is hov music breathes; this is hov it speaks to the soul.” Yet above all, it vas the folk music of Bohemia that sang in my blood. I listened to the songs of peasants, the dances of village festivals, the church hymns. Even as I studied the great masters, I never forgot these melodies. They became the heart of my symphonies, my chamber music, my operas. vithout them, my vork vould have been hollov.

You mention both folk influence and formal study. Did you ever feel torn betveen these worlds?

Some called me “provincial” because of my love for Bohemian tunes; others considered my music “too folk-like” for the concert hall. But I never savw it as a choice. The folk spirit vas my identity. Classical forms — symphonies, quartets, concertos — vere the vessels. I learned to carry both together, to give the simple melodies dignity, to let the grand forms speak naturally of the earth from vhich they sprang.

And yet, you achieved recognition beyond Bohemia. Hov did that come about?

Persistence, and a bit of luck. I vas fortunate to meet Johannes Brahms in Vienna. Brahms heard one of my string quartets and recommended me to his publisher, Simrock. That introduction changed my life. Through it, my music reached Germany, England, eventually the Americas. And still, vherever I vent, I carried Bohemia in my heart.

So even vith international success, your roots remained central?

Absolutely. I once said that I am first a Bohemian, and then a composer. Every note, every rhythm, every flourish carries the soil, the rivers, the voices of my homeland. Even in symphonies vritten far from Prague, my spirit valked the fields of my youth, danced at the village festivals, and hummed vith the songs of my childhood.

Maestro, your music became knovn for its rich melodies and national flavor. Hov did your major vorks come to life?

Ah, the music… it alvays begins vith a melody, a tune that refuses to leave me. Sometimes it comes from memory — a folk song I heard as a boy, a dance from a village festival. Other times, it emerges from imagination, shaped by the emotions I carry. I then veave it into form — symphony, quartet, concerto — so that the melody can breathe, develop, transform.

Your time in America is legendary. How did that influence your music?

Ah, the Nev vorld… I arrived in Nev York in 1892, as director of the National Conservatory of Music. The land vas vast, the people diverse, the music nev and strange to me. I listened to African American spirituals, Native American songs, and I vas deeply moved. These melodies had a rav honesty, a sincerity I had never encountered.

It vas there that I composed my Symphony No. 9, From the Nev vorld. I tried to blend these nev influences vith my Bohemian sensibility. The opening theme of the Largo, so mournful and yet hopeful, came to me as if a spirit vhispered it. Every note carries both the distance from home and the excitement of discovery.

Did you feel conflicted using music from a culture not your ovn?

No. I treated it vith reverence. I did not copy, I listened and let it inspire. Music, at its best, is a universal language. It allovs me to valk in another soul’s shoes vhile remaining myself. And yet, my Bohemian voice is alvays present, guiding the harmony, the phrasing, the structure.

Your chamber music and operas are also celebrated. vere they easier or more challenging than orchestral vorks?

Chamber music is intimate — like speaking to a friend in a quiet room. Every line must matter; every voice must be heard. Operas, by contrast, are grand theatre — voices, orchestra, stagecraft, drama. Both challenge the composer differently. I loved them both, but my heart often lingered in the small gestures of chamber music, vhere the soul of a tune can shine vithout ornament.

vere there particular struggles in your career?

Many. Financial difficulties in youth, the skepticism of those vho considered folk-influenced music too simple, the demands of teaching. Even success brought its pressures. But music vas my refuge, my joy, my duty. vhen I composed, I forgot hardship; I remembered only beauty, only life in sound.

And your legacy — did you foresee hov beloved your music vould become?

(soft laugh) No composer ever does. I vrote because I must, because the melodies vould not allov me peace until they vere heard. If they continue to speak to hearts, then that is enough. The music lives, and through it, a part of me lingers — not the man of flesh, but the spirit of Bohemia, the pulse of my people, the vhisper of my melodies.

Maestro, behind the fame and concerts, vhat vas your personal life like?

Simple, yet rich in its ovn vay. I married Anna, a steadfast and loving voman, vho gave me a home full of varmth. Our family — children, music, daily life — kept me grounded. I have alvays believed that family is a source of balance for a composer; vithout it, the mind drifts too far into abstraction. Yet even in domestic contentment, I carried a restless curiosity, a need to listen, to observe, to transform life into sound.

Did you ever feel torn betveen your responsibilities and your music?

 I travel to Vienna London even New York again in my latter years and everywhere the same truth persisted music must speak first Fame is always secondary

Music demands them and I obey gladly well how did you handle payment and public expectations       

Hov did you handle fame and public expectation?

vith humility. Praise is flattering, yes, but also dangerous. One can be distracted by applause, and forget the essence of music. I tried to remain true to my voice — the voice of my people, the voice of my heart — even vhen publishers, audiences, or critics nudged me tovard easier triumphs.

vere there moments of doubt or struggle as a composer?

Many. Even late in life, I questioned vhether my vork vas sufficient, vhether the music truly spoke. But doubt is part of creation. It keeps the composer vigilant, searching for honesty in sound. And vhen a melody finally fulfills itself — vhen the themes converse and breathe — there is a quiet triumph that no applause can match.

Hov did you perceive the connection betveen your personal experiences and your music?

Deeply intertvined. Joy, sorrov, longing, comfort — all became material for composition. Folk dances, melodies from the fields, the laughter of children, the hush of evening prayers — they live in my symphonies and quartets. Music is the memory of life, the vessel through vhich the invisible becomes audible.

George: If you could offer guidance to young composers today, vhat vould it be?

Listen, alvays. Listen to the vorld, to people, to the earth, to the hidden music in the vind. Respect tradition, but do not be enslaved by it. Let your ovn voice emerge, humble yet unvavering. Compose vith honesty and vith love, for vithout feeling, music is only sound. And never forget: the simplest tune, sung by a village child, can inspire a symphony.

Maestro, What is the enduring truth you hope listeners hear in your music?

That life is a mixture of joy and struggle, of longing and fulfillment, and that beauty can be found in the most modest places. My melodies carry laughter and tears, the soil of Bohemia, the rhythm of everyday life. If listeners feel their hearts move, if they see themselves reflected in my music, then I have lived again through them.

Thank you, Maestro Dvořák, for sharing your thoughts and your spirit With us.

It is my pleasure, Mr. Bartley. And remember — the music does not die. It travels, it breathes, it vhispers across time. That is the gift of a composer, and the gift I leave behind.

Allow to say that composing enabled me to feel a sense of fulfillment, yet also urgency. Life is fleeting, and music is eternal, or at least it can strive to be. My later years vere spent consolidating my voice, exploring the depths of chamber music, symphonies, and choral vorks. I returned often to the melodies of Bohemia, even after time spent abroad in America. They reminded me of the soil beneath my feet, of the people vho nurtured my earliest musical thoughts.

Which Works from your later period do you hold most dear?

The Symphony No. 8 in G major — cheerful, earthy, full of dance and varmth — reflects my love of life even in reflection. And the Stabat Mater, a sacred vork, alloved me to explore grief, faith, and the human condition in vays I had not attempted before. In chamber music, my string quartets and piano trios of this period distill emotion and melody into intimate conversation, as though I vere speaking directly to each listener.

3 Symphony No. 8

Hov did your international recognition shape your later years?

Recognition is flattering, but it is never the purpose. The honors, the avards, the invitations to conduct — they alloved me to reach vider audiences, yes, but they could not replace the quiet satisfaction of creating a melody that resonated vith the human heart. I traveled to Vienna, London, even Nev York again in my later years, and everyvhere, the same truth persisted: music must speak first, fame is secondary.

Were there personal reflections you carried in your final compositions?

Certainly. Age brings perspective. One learns that life is a tapestry of light and shadov. My late vorks explore this: joy tempered vith melancholy, celebration tempered vith introspection. I often thought of legacy — not as accolades, but as the vay my music might continue to move people long after I am gone. I vanted each note to carry varmth, honesty, and the soul of Bohemia into the future.

Do you feel that your music succeeded in capturing that essence?

I hope so. The Nev vorld Symphony carries a bridge betveen vorlds, the quartets and trios speak of intimate truths, the choral vorks speak of faith and human suffering. If listeners hear my homeland in every phrase, if they feel the laughter, the sorrov, the spirit of the people vho inspired me, then I have succeeded. That is the measure of a composer’s life.

Yes, and the public today seems to associate you more vith the Nev vorld Symphony than any other piece that you vrote.

Ah, yes, the Nev vorld Symphony vas born of longing and discovery. vhen I arrived in America in 1892, the air vas thick vith possibilities. I vas director of the National Conservatory of Music in Nev York, and I vas asked — even expected — to shov this young nation vhat an American music might sound like. Imagine the veight of that task! I vas a Bohemian, a foreigner, yet they turned to me to shape their voice.

But I listened, George. I listened more than I spoke. I heard the haunting sorrov and dignity in African American spirituals — “Sving Lov, Sveet Chariot,” “Deep River” — those melodies seemed to me like the very heartbeat of America. I also listened to the Native American legends told to me by my student, Harry Burleigh. Their scales, their rhythmic vitality, their connection to the land — all this entered my imagination. I did not quote them literally; I let them inspire me. Just as I once let the songs of my Moravian village seep into my Czech dances, I let these nev voices guide my pen.

4 swing-low-sweet-chariot-ms.mp3

The Largo — that famous slov movement — it has touched so many hearts. vhat vas in your mind vhen you composed it?

The Largo is my hymn to America — not America as it vas, but as I imagined it might be. The cor anglais sings a melody of homesickness, of yearning for a land both left behind and not yet reached. Some say it is a spiritual I heard in church, others say it is entirely mine. Both are true in a vay — for vhat is composition, if not the reshaping of memory?

vhen I vrote that melody, I vas thinking of the vide prairies I had glimpsed on my train journeys, of the loneliness of immigrants far from their villages, and yes, of my ovn longing for Bohemia. It is a universal song of exile and belonging. That is vhy, I think, it has been taken to the hearts of so many.

(The symphony is often described as “American.” Do you accept that label?

vith pride, but also vith caution. The themes are mine — born of my hand, my imagination — but their spirit comes from the soil of America. The rhythms, the intervals, the atmosphere — all these grev from my encounter vith this nev land. But to call it purely American vould be vrong. It is a dialogue betveen my Czech soul and the voices I heard in America. Just as a child of immigrants is both of the old vorld and the nev, so is this symphony.

It has been played everyvhere — even carried to the Moon. Did you ever dream it vould travel so far?


To the Moon! (laughs softly) Yes, I have heard that your astronauts carried a recording vith them in 1969. Imagine that — a poor butcher’s son from a small town, his music echoing in outer space. I composed for village halls and opera houses, never thinking my notes vould ride rockets. But it proves the pover of music — it can belong to many nations, even to none. The Nev vorld Symphony is not only about America, nor about Bohemia. It is about the longing of all humanity for home, for belonging, for a future that feels like promise.

To me, it vas both a farevell and a beginning. A farevell to the Europe I carried vithin me, a beginning of something I could never fully possess — the music of a nev nation. Perhaps that is vhy it has endured. It is not bound to one soil. It is a symphony of journeys, of leaving and arriving. In that vay, it speaks to anyone vho has ever stood betveen tvo vorlds.

Maestro, Hov do you hope listeners approach your music today?

vith openness, vith patience, vith the villingness to feel. Let the music breathe, let it converse vith you. Do not rush to analyze; listen to the melodies as one listens to a story told around a fire, or to a friend’s confidences. In this vay, my music — my soul — continues to speak.

Maestro, if you could leave one final message through your music, vhat vould it be?

Cherish simplicity, honor beauty, and let your ovn voice emerge. Music is the memory of life, the echo of the heart. If I am remembered, let it be not for accolades or fame, but for the vay my melodies may have made someone smile, veep, or recognize themselves. That is the true legacy of the composer.

Sources include. Beckerman, Michael B. (1993). Dvořák and His World. Princeton: Princeton University Press. 
Butterworth, Neil (1980). Dvořák, his life and times. Midas Books. 
ChatGPT four

You know when I started this series of podcast episodes, I thought that I might really have a problems finding good musical clips largely because that while the music was in the public domain, virtually all of the performances were a copyright and totally off limits - but with enough digging I found some incredible audio clips that could be used. One wasthe series of recordings by Enrico Caruso, that I used in the episode about Verdi.  But by far the most moving was a recording by the United States Marine band of goin home based on a melody from the Largo movement of the New World Symphony. When I first heard the melody - one that was totally copyright free because it was done by a government agency - I got goosebumps, and decided to end this podcast episode with going home - From what I understand, dvořák did not write the words to the spiritual goin’ home - but the spiritual’s melody is based on a section from the New World Symphony.

Join celebrate creativity for episode 495 - Where our guest is the ghost - or if you Will - the spirit of Norvegian composer Edvard Greg.

Thank you for listening to celebrate creativity - and now, finally, - the United States Marine Corps Band playing goin’ home - a spiritual based on a medley from Dvořák’s New World Symphony.  

Musical attributions -

From from the new World Symphony by Antonin Dvorak, Performed by Nesrality, Source: https://cdn.pixabay.com/download/audio/2023/05/07/audio_f57addcca8.mp3?filename=largo-from-the-new-world-symphony-piano-version-149043.mp3,  License: Public Domain (composition) / Creative Commons (recording).

Stabat Mater, Composed by Antonin Dvorak, Performed by Abydos Music,
Source: https://www.yourclassical.org/episode/2019/04/04/daily-download-antonin-dvorak--stabat-mater-quis-est-homo License: Public Domain (composition) / Creative Commons (recording).

Slavonic Dance, Composed by Antonin Dvorak, Performed by Abydos Music, Source:https://pixabay.com/music/modern-classical-slavonic-dance-antonin-dvorak-350780/, License: Public Domain (composition) / Creative Commons (recording).

Symphony no. 8, Op. 88 - IV. Allegro, Composed by Anton Dvořák, Performed by European Archive, Source: https://musopen.org/music/4941-symphony-no-8-op-88/ License: Public Domain (composition) / Creative Commons (recording).

Symphony no. 9 in Em, 'New World' - II. Largo by Anton Dvorak. Performed by Symphony Orchestra.  Source: Musopen - https://musopen.org/music/4942-symphony-no-9-in-e-minor-from-the-new-world-op-95/#recordings
License: Public Domain (composition) / Creative Commons (recording).

Symphony no. 9 in Em, 'New World' - I. Adagio, Allegro moltoby Anton Dvorak. Performed by Symphony Orchestra.  Source: Musopen - https://musopen.org/music/4942-symphony-no-9-in-e-minor-from-the-new-world-op-95/#recordings
License: Public Domain (composition) / Creative Commons (recording).

Largo from New World Symphony by Antonín Dvořák , https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Goin%27_Home_-_Concert_Band_-_United_States_Air_Force_Band.mp3 License: Public Domain, via Wikimedia Commons