Leoš Janáček,  Jenufa : Soloists, Chorus and Orchestra of the  Nationaltheater Mannheim, Conductor: Friedemann Layer, Mannheim  5.7.2008 (BM)

Ludmilla Slepneva (Janufa) and Uwe Eikötter (Laca) 

Although much is made of Janáček’s postulate that “truth of expression can only be achieved by carefully observing life” in the program notes and other material published by the theater in connection with this production, director Regula Gerber seems to have decided that the ‘truth’ or ‘reality’ to be conveyed here is the structural inexorability of the ‘mill of life’, full of individuals bogged down by hopelessness and ugliness. The only trouble is that she completely ignored the rural environment initially envisaged for this piece, with its bearing on the moral and religious problem of having a child out of wedlock. Surely, in the surroundings shown on stage (I kept expecting someone to come forward and announce “Welcome to Berzerkistan!”), no one would care less about that sort of mishap. And it is interesting to remember that when Gabriela Preissová, whose play “Her Stepdaughter” inspired this opera, was criticized for choosing such shocking subject matter – the infanticide committed by the stepmother to save her daughter’s honor - she pointed out that it was based on a true event in a Bohemian village which she had read about in a newspaper clipping, making her play something of a turn-of-the-century reality show (if there is any way to use this term without its derogatory connotation). However, this was apparently not enough reality for Gerber. There is nothing wrong with telling a story from a new perspective (on the contrary!), but perhaps I should leave it to those more intellectually versed than myself to decide whether this is still the same story. It certainly didn’t look like it - so thank heavens that it sounded authentic.

Friedemann Layer had the orchestra seething with passion (those familiar with this work know that this is not background music), while at the same time paying precise attention to the nuances of the score and never covering up the singers, who were all excellent, as was Tilman Michael’s fantastic chorus. Ludmila Slepneva in the title role was a fervent Jenufa, with confident top notes and emphatic phrasing in her monologue following the loss of her child, outsung only by Susan Maclean in the role of her stepmother Kostelnička, who drew an outstanding portrait of this dried-out prune of a woman, starved for affection but still capable of lavishing so much of it on her step-daughter. The  duet in which both bare their wounded souls in the second act was deeply moving.

Emma Sarkisyan was a wonderful Grandmother Burya, Katharina Göres  as Karolka has a new voice one hopes to hear again soon, and Michail Aganov did well as the adventurous Stewa (Gerber’s concept required him to look like a awful slob, but he did his best to remind us what Jenufa saw in him), as did Mihail Mihaylov later on as the Judge.  But it was Uwe Eikötter’s Laca that stood out: he was utterly convincing and lent a definite italianità to his iridescent declaration of love in the final scene. All of these characters crave love, and it is all there in the music: spiritual and romantic love, maternal love, unrequited love, fierce and violent love, jealous love, blind and desperate love. Indeed, the title “What We Talk About When We Talk About Love” might almost suit this opera better than the immortal short story by Raymond Carver. What an enduring gift this composer bestowed on us, and we should be grateful to musicians like these in Mannheim who can bring it so fully to life.

Bettina Mara

With special thanks to my father, Richard Exner, for encouraging me to attend this performance and for teaching me a thing or two about love.