The Story
of Act I
Števa (Števa
pronounced Shteva; Laca pronounced Latsa),*
a gay lad of unstable character, who has been
carrying on a love affair with Jenůfa, a member
of his household, has been left a farm and
an old but prosperous mill by his parents.
Jenůfa is pregnant and fears that if Števa
is drafted into the army he will be unable
to marry her. Števa is much more interested
in having a good time enjoying himself with
the other lads and lasses of the village than
settling down and looking after the mill,
which is run efficiently enough by an experienced
miller, assisted by Števa’s grandmother. In
the household is Števa’s half-brother, Laca,
a much more serious type: he is very deeply
in love with Jenůfa.
When the curtain
rises, we see the mill surrounded by a group
of buildings. The background is a hillside
with bushes and a number of fallen trees:
there is also a creek near which Jenůfa stands
looking pensively into the distance. The grandmother
sits in the porch, peeling potatoes: Laca
lounges on the trunk of one of the fallen
trees, carving a stick with his knife.
Jenůfa is
in great distress: she prays to the Virgin
Mary to hear her prayer, for if her lover
is recruited, he will be unable to marry her
and the shame will kill her.
The grandmother
peevishly asks Jenůfa if she expects all the
work to be done by her: Jenůfa has surely
done enough loafing around for one day: now
that she is an old woman, her eyes are not
as good as they were.
Laca takes
her up on this: there are probably a good
number of things, he says ironically, that
the old lady’s eyes don’t see. Ever since
they were children, she has always favoured
and petted Števa and left him out in the cold.
If she would only give him his share of the
inheritance, he would clear out and make his
future elsewhere: as it is, he is treated
just like any other mill-hand. Laca has expressed
himself with considerable heat and animosity,
at which Jenůfa is moved to reprimand him:
he should not speak so disrespectfully to
grandmother, otherwise how does he expect
her to love him.
"Quite right!
Quite right!", the old woman nods approvingly.
But why does
she want to make Jenůfa work today, asks Laca,
when they all know how worried she is about
Števa and the possibility of him being drafted
into the army! Jenůfa fears these deadly prods
of Laca, but tells the grandmother not to
be angry with her for idling, she will make
up for it later. She has just remembered that
her pot of rosemary is beginning to fade and
must go and water it: it would be very unlucky
to let it wither.
There is an
interruption as a shepherd-boy rushes in,
excitedly holding a child’s copy-book in his
hand: Jenůfa has been teaching him to read
and he is most enthusiastic about his progress.
Jenůfa promises also to teach the boy to write
and to buy him a primer. (We recall a similar
kindly relation between Petrovič and Aljeja
in The House of the Dead.) The grandmother
remarks proudly that Jenůfa should have been
a teacher: she has a man’s head for such matters.
Jenůfa sighs wistfully, "Dear Grandmother,
I lost my head" (and by this she means
also her heart) "a long time ago. "
The miller
now enters briskly, his town suit covered
with flour. When he sees Laca hacking with
his knife viciously at the stick, he tells
him it looks like a good job he is doing.
If only the knife was sharper, Laca replies;
he has been working away at it for two hours.
The miller obligingly produces a small stone
from his pocket and sharpens the knife.
While the
miller is busy, Laca creeps up behind Jenůfa
and with his stick pulls the scarf from her
head. She does not even turn her head to look
at him: he was always a mischief-maker! Jenůfa
would not have objected, exclaims the jealous
Laca, goaded by such indifference, if it had
been Števa who had done this. Jenůfa tells
him to mind his own business and enters the
house.
The miller
looks after her in admiration, remarking that
she is the sort of girl that would turn any
man’s head: she carries herself like a sack
of poppy-seed! Laca replies, mockingly, that
of course he is mad about her, so much so,
in fact, that he has just put worms in the
flower-pot with her rosemary, so that it may
wither, just as he hopes her marriage with
Števa will wither.
The miller
begins to suspect that Laca is not so indifferent
to Jenůfa as he tries to make out: he has
noticed him blush when she appears. Laca tells
him not to be such a fool. Anyway, it will
all be over between Števa and Jenůfa once
the latter is drafted into the army.
"Oh!
But he hasn’t been drafted", exclaims
the miller who has just heard the news from
the postman.
At this grand
news, Jenůfa jumps for joy and kisses the
grandmother: Laca springs up resentfully ("How
can they call this justice?"): the miller
remarks that Števa has all the luck.
Jenůfa’s stepmother
appears at this moment and is enthusiastically
welcomed by her stepdaughter, who kisses her
hand. The stepmother is the widow of the verger
of the village church and consequently a very
respected and revered person in the neighbourhood.
The recruits
are heard singing and shouting off-stage and
soon the stage is filled with them, the workers
from the mill, and the villagers, who have
come to greet them. Jenůfa runs to welcome
Števa who, like most of the recruits, is drunk.
Jenůfa gently
reproves him, while Števa, who can hardly
stand, stammers: "Me! Me! You say that
I am drunk! Don’t you know who I am? Stefan
Burya-that I own a mill and a farm and the
girls are always running after me? See! I
got these flowers from one of them! "Turning
irritably to the group of street musicians
who have followed the soldiers, he grandly
throws them a handful of coins commanding
them to play Jenůfa’s favourite song: "It’s
a long, long way to Nove Zamky" ("Far
and Wide"). This is a tremendously spirited
quasi-folk-song rendered with great gusto
by the soldiers and townsfolk, who, after
each verse, execute a wild dance. Števa puts
his arm around Jenůfa and tries to dance the
difficult steps of the fiery Odzemek dance.
(The theme of this piece appeared in an early
piano piece "Ej Danaj" and in a later
choral work, Zelené sem sela, which also used
the song and dance theme of "It’s a long,
long way to Nove Zamky.")
The wild and
rough dancing and singing has got out of hand;
at least that is the opinion of the stern
Kostelnička (as Jenůfa’s stepmother is called),
for the stepmother now appears, and with a
single commanding gesture silences the musicians
and the crowd.
If this is
how Jenůfa and Števa intend going through
life, she will never give her consent to their
marriage. Števa must stay sober for at least
a year before she will even consider allowing
him to marry her stepdaughter. Kostelnička
is, of course, unaware of the fact that Jenůfa
is expecting a child by Števa and all unwittingly
has thus sealed her own doom.
Laca alone
is pleased with her decision: all the others
deplore her unwonted sternness, and the crowd
gradually disperses. The grandmother advises
Števa, her favourite, to take a nap and tells
him he should not be so easily led astray
by his friends.
The recruits
repeat her words mockingly as they depart.
The sympathetic grandmother puts her arm round
Jenůfa, telling her not to cry: "Kazdy
parek si musi svoje trapeni prestat",
which may be looked upon as a Czech equivalent
of "The course of true love never did
run smooth". The words and tune are taken
up by the miller, by Laca, by Jenůfa
and the farm-hands in a noble and moving ensemble.
Eventually
they depart, leaving Jenůfa alone with Števa.
In a low voice, Jenůfa tells him they must
get married at once: her stepmother will be
angry enough when she finds out the truth,
but God has helped them so far, for Števa
has not been drafted into the army.
Števa replies
belligerently that her stepmother is always
abusing him-that is all the thanks he gets
for loving her daughter, "and believe
me, there are plenty of other girls chasing
after me".
Jenůfa reminds
him, with some irritation, that he has obligations
towards her, for if he were to desert her
now, she would kill herself. Števa tells her
not to worry; she is the most beautiful of
all the girls he knows and he would stick
to her if only because of her apple-blossom
cheeks. At this point, the benevolent grandmother
enters and tells Števa that the darling boy
has had enough worries for one day and must
go and sleep them off. Jenůfa returns to the
basket and continues to peel potatoes.
The entire
scene has been watched by the jealous Laca,
who now approaches Jenůfa, throwing away the
stick but holding the knife in his hand. "What
a coward is this Števa of yours" he says
derisively. "As soon as Kostelnička speaks
to him, he cowers away like a whipped dog!
"Laca is trembling feverishly and picks
up the flowers Števa has thrown away.
Jenůfa takes
them from him, saying that she can even take
pride in flowers her lover has been given
from another girl. Laca is beside himself
with jealousy.
Her lover
doesn’t seem interested in anything but her
rosy cheeks, he says, looking at his knife
and muttering to himself: this knife would
make them rosier still. He tries to embrace
her, she spurns him and in the struggle he
slashes her face with his knife.
A girl looking
for work has been a witness to the struggle
and attack. She screams and the miller and
grandmother rush in as Jenůfa runs into the
house in a panic.
Laca is covered
with remorse: "What have I done? What
have I done, Jenůfa darling? I have loved
you ever since we were children." As
he turns away utterly crestfallen, the miller
shouts after him that he did it deliberately.
The Music
of Act I
The very first
sound in Jenůfa is the dry, crackling, cricket-like
timbre of a xylophone repeating a low G flat
note above a pizzicato falling octave in the
bass:
No 196

somehow, the
resulting effect is sinister, even threatening,
and when the violins bring in their infinitely
poignant melody with its persistently agitated
two-note counterpoint, the mood is set for
a drama which already hints at unusual emotional
depths and personal tragedy.
No 197

The harmonic
basis of the opening paragraph is the first
inversion of the chord of A flat minor said
to be Janáček’s favourite key: like the Spaniard,
Albeniz, Janáček does, indeed, seem to revel
in key signatures bristling with flats, although
in this case he is content to write the major
key signature of four flats and add the accidentals
as required.
As will be
seen from No. 197, the last note of the pathetic
violin theme is E double flat and the little
sigh on the flutes which follow, also emphasizes
this still darker tone: on the third repetition
of the whole phrase the flute motif is dwelt
on for three further bars crescendo, followed
by an ascending scale passage which surges
up to a fortissimo climax on a high C flat,
the note at the beginning of the introduction
(now written as B natural-an enharmonic modulation).
In point of fact bars 22-23 are the opening
bars 1-2 in reverse: the high measured xylophone
tremolo has now become a low fortissimo roll
on the timpani, the leaping pizzicato octave
in the bass a measured quaver tremolo in the
treble.
No. 197, with
its attendant syncopated figure now following
the melodic outline of A, is then twice forcefully
declaimed by brass and wind in a chromatic
sequence of first inversion diminished chords
with the end sighing three-note motif on violins
but now without the previous interpolation
of the pulsating two bars of xylophone and
bass.
We again hear
B of No. 197, but now in a vastly contrasted
presentation: pianissimo instead of fortissimo,
with the principal theme on a solo violin,
where the underlying harmony is a chord of
the diminished seventh erected above D natural.
The three-note sigh (figure B of No. 197)
is brought into prominence with a sforzando
on its first note, which, paralleling the
opening paragraph, is repeated for two extra
bars, followed by the ascending scale passage
which is now heard diminuendo e ritenuto.
The curtain
rises, and our eyes are immediately arrested
by the sight of the beautiful but despairing
Jenůfa anxiously awaiting the return of her
lover. A of No. 197 quietly dominates the
three interlocked four-bar phrases which we
hear from the rising of the curtain till the
opening notes of Jenůfa’s soliloquy. The key
centre has slipped down a semitone from A
flat to G (a characteristic example of Janáček’s
flexible shifting tonality): apart from the
perfect cadence necessary to define the new
key, the whole passage is based on the tonic
chord of G major beginning and ending- in
the indecisive second inversion of the chord:
although the mood is relatively calm after
the agitation of the opening paragraphs, the
presence of this arpeggio figure (No. 198
(A)) with its tied end-note betrays unrest
and uncertainty.
no 198

Janáček’s
pupil, Vilém Petrželka, tells of an enthralling
lesson he had in the year 1907, when Janáček
was lecturing to his students on the difference
between the formal overtures of classical
opera, and the short, pregnant introductions
to many modern operas. Janáček cited the introduction
to his own opera Jenůfa as an example of the
latter and proceeded to analyse it. "We
listened with bated breath", writes Petrželka,
"not only to his words but also to his
music, and each one of us felt the tremendous
originality of this music, music such as we
had never heard before. Janáček, the professor
of composition, seemed almost to disappear,
giving way to Janáček, a great composer creating
something strikingly original in music. He
concluded by saying, ‘Jenůfa braces herself
and sets out to meet life. You are all of
you young and, therefore, I impress upon you
"Let truth be your guide, not only in
life but also in art"!"’
"Evening
approaches and Števa hasn’t returned ",
Jenůfa sings with rising agitation. A motif
of guilt appears in the oboe
No. 199

Her brief
solo ends with this heart-rending phrase
No. 200

Already one
notes a tendency by Janáček to repeat words
and phrases of his libretto: "O Virgin
Mary, I long so deeply that you will answer
my silent prayer. If they have drafted my
lover and our marriage is stopped, the shame
of it would kill me, the shame of it would
kill me. " Laca’s jealous outburst against
the grandmother’s unfair discrimination between
Števa and himself is a vigorous triple time
allegro movement (arietta) in G sharp minor,
with some angry syncopations and pugnacious
phrases like:
No. 201

but with a
quieter, self-pitying mood at [8]. The little
episode about the pot of rosemary begins with
this dual theme
No. 202

with variations
of the rhythmical unit (A) and the flowing
figure (B), when the shepherd-boy bursts in
with enthusiastic thanks to Jenůfa for teaching
him to read. There is a sad little interlude
at [20] when Jenůfa confesses that "she
lost her head-a long time ago ".
At the entrance
of the miller, the orchestra plays a hearty,
blustering phrase
No. 203

which holds
sway throughout the entire scene until [30].
The repeated notes of the icicle-toned xylophone
are heard solo as the miller sharpens Laca’s
knife, an association between knife and xylophone
which culminates at [83] when Laca wounds
Jenůfa with his knife.
The music
becomes more sustained (p. 27) when the miller
confides to Laca the effect Jenůfa’s eyes
have on him. Laca’s mocking reply is introduced
by a strident octave passage in the orchestra
(p. 28). A variation of No. 202 (C) flows
easily, as the jealous Laca tells of his mean
little trick with the pot of rosemary, doubling
in speed as he confesses he hopes her marriage
with Števa will similarly wither.
After the
miller has broken the news that Števa has
not been recruited, there is a short excitable
four-part vocal ensemble.
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