How Nohavica Taught Me Czech

Jaromír Nohavica is something of a Czech cultural icon. His concerts routinely sell out and his songs are sung around campfires. His lyrics and music are rooted in the specific experience and traditions of his homeland, especially the Ostrava region. On the occasion of his sixtieth birthday, we look at Nohavica as a songwriter and as controversial figure.

Prior to arriving in Prague I had read an English-language review of the Petr Zelenka film Rok Ďabla (The Year of the Devil). The writer compared its star, singer Jaromír Nohavica, to Tom Waits and Shane MacGowan. I was curious.

Unraveling the Meaning
Initially, I didn’t get him—literally. But after arming myself with a CZ-ENG dictionary and badgering my future wife with questions, I unraveled the meanings of these songs, many of which are sharply drawn stories or vignettes populated by intriguing characters. The range of musical moods were as broad as his arrangements. Some songs featured Nohavica solo on accordion, others included a full band. (In recent years, Nohavica has worked with orchestras, most notably translating the libretto of Cosi fan Tutte. His work has also been arranged for  orchestra.)

Uniting it all was a particular attention to the language. It’s no wonder the man is a national Scrabble champion. No lines seemed throw-away. Whether it’s the dark scenes in  Pěterburg in which a jilted man, drunk, toys with a revolver, or the two lovers resting by a fire on the way to Sarajevo in the song of the same name, the lyrics manage to place you in the scene.

Other songs, especially Kometa, touched me with a poetry on par with the best lyricists in English—working out their meaning was the most interesting course in the Czech language I could have taken.

The Complete Songbook, Translated
While I translated the songs purely for my own understanding, Canadian Mark Landry has translated a book of Nohavica’s songs into English. Landry expatriated to the Czech Republic from Canada in the early nineties. He learned about Nohavica through his students but it was the singer who approached him about translating, having seen Landry’s translations of traditional Czech and Moravian folk songs.

“Essentially Jarek is a poet who has put to music his words, so I had to make [the translations] more poetical,” Landry said. The reason for the translation was to bring Nohavica to a wider audience and act as a bridge for those who didn’t read Czech. Some of Landry’s translations can be read here.

Nohavica’s Dark Past
When discussions about Nohavica have come up, Some friends and associates have remarked that they stopped listening to him because of his collaboration with the former communist secret police, Státní Bezpečnost (StB). In one sense, the feeling of betrayal can be seen as evidence of the singer’s significance.

Or that was until he released “Na Bedřišce” and “Dežo” both available on his online albums. Neither song can be justified as merely showing how it is because the songs pander to negative stereotypes strongly embedded in Czech society. Adoptive mother of Romani children Martina Vančáková expressed it perfectly when she accused Nohavica of pouring oil on the fire in an open letter. Based on comments on the Dežo’s YouTube post , though, I’m sure not everyone agrees.

Through a Child’s Eyes
As noted in Ms. Vančáková’s letter, most kids grow up to Nohavica’s children’s album Tři čuníci (Three Little Pigs). In the early honeymoon period of my Nohavica fandom, one of my colleagues, another expat Nohavica enthusiast, called me to tell me he could get tickets to a concert. However, the only ones available were for a performance for kids.