Pan was written as a tone-poem for piano in 1910 but, perhaps finding the medium too constraining, Novak orchestrated it two years later. He was 40 and at the height of his powers (powers which have still to be adequately recognized in this country). His reputation was secured by the Brno performance of The storm, a so-called 'sea fantasy'. This has, incidentally, nothing to do with The Tempest; but though (despite another Shakespeare setting in The Winter's Tale) Bohemia has no coast, Novak seems to to have been fascinated by the sea. He returns to it in Pan.
The third of the five movements is entitled ''The Sea'' (and marked Allegro spumante—how does
one play that?). This is again a puzzle. The only association of Pan with the sea that I know is the odd story of Greek sailors hearing out of a storm the cry, ''Great Pan is dead!'' The accompanying note is no help. But the previous movement is entitled ''Mountains'' and the succeeding one ''The Forest'', with the finale as ''Woman''; and Vladimir Lebl's little monograph Vitezslav Novak (Prague: 1968) suggests that the work is really a survey of his past life and an ''avowal of the values which had given it its positive, consoling content and had determined its direction''. So the piece is a pantheistic view of the world, rather than concerning Pan.
Novak responds with colourful, evocative music to these natural stimuli. The forest stirs and murmurs in a manner suggesting Novak's beloved teacher Dvorak, and there are also anticipations (or reflections) of Janacek. ''The Mountains'' section recalls the lofty, brooding atmosphere of In the Tatras, one of Novak's greatest successes. ''The Sea'' swirls and tosses furiously. These ideas are held together by a skilful, unobtrusive, but easily apprehended use of a five-note theme suggesting (not only in its occasional touches of a whole-tone scale) that Novak had studied Liszt to good effect. The orchestration is beautifully effective, and so naturally conceived that I doubt if anyone would suppose it to be subsequent to a piano original.
Bilek and the Slovak players respond with evident warmth and affection, and the recording is rich and well balanced, and very well unified. The piece is long, perhaps a little long for itself, but the music has a strong appeal, and would surely reward anyone whose appreciation of Czech music encourages further exploration.'