Antonín Dvořák’s Catholic Life

Antonín Dvořák was one of the greatest classical composers ever to live. He was also a devout Catholic. Living in the nineteenth century (not the most Catholic time in Europe’s history), he did not write as many religious works as some other composers such as Bach or Handel may have, as such music was not in vogue at the time. However, he provides a classic model for Catholics who seek to devote their lives to God while engaging heavily with the temporal and often secular world.

Dvořák was born in 1841 in the modern-day Czech Republic, then called Bohemia, in the Prague area. Growing up, he displayed a natural talent for the violin, but struggled to achieve recognition outside of his homeland. At 32, he married and started a family with his wife Anna, despite his impoverished circumstances, and as they began to have children, their financial situation became increasingly problematic. It was then that Dvořák saw his fate change, as he applied for and won the Austrian State Prize for classical composition (he actually did so twice, first in 1874 and then again three years later). On the jury were legendary composer Johannes Brahms and notable music critic Eduard Hanslick, both of whom were so struck by Dvořák’s compositional talent that they began to publicize his music outside of Bohemia. 

Numerous successes followed, one of the most notable of which was Dvořák’s setting of the Catholic hymn Stabat Mater, depicting the suffering of the Virgin Mary watching her son’s death by crucifixion. The piece was inspired by the death of his daughter Josefa not even a year after she was born. Dvořák’s grief must have been unimaginable; however, there is no evidence to suggest that he doubted his Catholic faith even for a moment, instead channeling his grief into a truly moving and beautiful composition.

Dvořák’s persistent Catholic faith is remarkable, given the struggles of his life. Not only did he undergo extreme poverty (he did not even own a piano until he was 32, and they were more commonplace then than they are now), and not only did his daughter die in infancy, but she was not his only loss: his firstborn, Otakar, died at the age of three, and his third child also passed away as an infant. Eventually, he and his wife had six more children, all of whom survived until adulthood, but to maintain one’s faith through such a tragic series of losses and material struggles is surely remarkable.

Dvořák also exemplified the idea of engaging with the world while refraining from being corrupted by it. He lived in a time when there was a rapidly growing weltgeist, making it difficult for devout Catholics such as himself to feel optimistic about the state of the world. Despite that, he produced sacred music (a Requiem and a Te Deum followed the Stabat Mater, and he wrote other sacred pieces as well), and even his less overtly religious works possessed a beauty which uplifts the soul of the listener to this day. Furthermore, while he was in the United States writing what eventually became his most famous and, in my opinion, his best work (Symphony No. 9, “From the New World,” part of which was inspired by a traditional African-American folk tune he heard while in America), he went to daily Mass and worked as an organist at his local church, demonstrating a persistent attention to the practice of his faith.

One of the most significant aspects of Dvořák’s music is his nationalism. Not to be confused with political nationalism, Dvořák’s musical nationalism took the form of pride in the cultural traditions of the Czech people, and he made frequent use of traditional Czech dances and folk songs in his compositions. Many of his pieces were also inspired by the beautiful countryside of Bohemia. Of course, though, he saw God as the ultimate inspiration for his work, crediting God for his natural talent and going to Mass every morning, perhaps seeking inspiration.

Dvořák deserves to be seen as one of the greatest composers of the Romantic era, and perhaps even of all time. His music touches the soul like little else, and it would be a pity if he was known only for his admittedly phenomenal Symphony No. 9. Aside from the previously mentioned pieces, one can hear his brilliance in his Serenade for Strings (particularly its delightful and enchanting tempo di valse), Symphony No. 7 (which is only underrated because of the greatness of his 9th Symphony), Slavonic Dances (which exemplify his nationalistic style, taking inspiration from traditional Bohemian folk music; Op. 46, Nos. 1 and 8 are especially energetic, while Op. 46, No. 4 is particularly delightful and uplifting), or String Quartet No. 12, “American” (inspired, as the name suggests, by his time in the United States, and one of his most successful works of chamber music).

More than all of that, though, Dvořák should also be looked at as a model for lay Catholics due to his devout faith, which he maintained despite the tragic lows of poverty and the deaths of his first three children, and the euphoric highs of international success, renown, and praise, which, history tells us, can be as dangerous to faith as the lows.