Sergei Rachmaninoff - Troika
La Monnaie-De Munt, 2015
Mikhail Tatarnikov, Kirsten Dehlholm, Kostas Smoriginas, Sergey Semishkur, Alexander Vassiliev, Anna Nechaeva, Yaroslava Kozina, Sergei Leiferkus, Dmitry Golovnin, Ilya Silchukov, Alexander Kravets, Dimitris Tiliakos
La Monnaie Web Streaming
Based on works by Pushkin and Dante, it's not as if there aren't dramatic possibilities in the three one-act operas composed by Rachmaninoff. L'Opéra National de Lorraine at Nancy not only successfully staged a pairing of Aleko and Francesca da Rimini recently, but director Silviu Purcărete also managed to link the similar themes of the two works together into a single workable concept. Kirsten Dehlholm's approach to La Monnaie's presentation of all three Rachmaninoff's short opera works is, typically for the adventurous Belgian company, very different.
While there is an overall thematic connection between the works that is reflected in the set design, each of the three works very much has their own look and feel. None of the operas however are what you would call fully staged. Partly that may be dictated by La Monnaie's transfer to the Théâtre National while renovations are being carried out to La Monnaie's regular home, right through the next season. On the other hand, La Monnaie do tend to think 'outside the box', so to speak in their productions, and that's very much in evidence in their staging of the Rachmaninoff Troika.
Russian opera suits big colourful spectacle and pageantry and certain productions of Rimsky-Korsakov's Sadko and The Golden Cockerel come to mind in Kirsten Dehlholm's bold setting of Aleko. A traditional staging of Rachnaminov's first opera, written as a graduation competition piece when the composer was nineteen (1892), and based on Pushkin's short story, 'The Gypsies', will usually draw unavoidable comparison with Carmen and Pagliacci. That certainly was the impression given in the recent Nancy production. Dehlholm's setting takes it far away from that.
Staged almost oratorio-like on a tiered platform of steps, Aleko doesn't really play to the storytelling drama aspect of the story. Nothing about the stylised rainbow-coloured costumes either suggests a naturalistic time period or gypsy culture. The story of Aleko's jealousy over his wife's affair with her lover that leads to their murder isn't wholly acted out either, with characters only moving into place alongside one another without acting out any drama. There are one or two props - some cut-out trees and tarot cards that indicate fate at play - but the force of the dramatic impact relies more on lighting and colouration exploding in psychedelic bursts of kaleidoscopic patterns that are nonetheless wholly informed by the music.
Rachmaninoff's music instrumentally takes up a considerable part of drama from the sparsely scripted libretti of Aleko and Francesca da Rimini, and it's no coincidence that the orchestra are more visible during these two operas. The orchestra might be on stage primarily due to the absence of a natural pit at the Théâtre National, but the instrumental elements of the operas are also very much a part of the dramatic fabric of the works. Just how important that is becomes more evident with the rich, melodic, dynamic Romantic sweep that Mikhail Tatarnikov draws from the orchestra here. Impressive singing too really gets the dramatic content across.
The Miserly Knight, again drawn from Pushkin, is more dialogue driven, taking the author's text almost directly from the page. It consequently pushes the focus back onto the characters at the front of the stage, the orchestra remaining behind the curtain that shows projections of a ruined building and a few filmed sequences. The situation is a relatively simple one that doesn't rely on a lot of dramatic action, but its still richly scored by Rachmaninoff, who sets the story, the characterisation and the relationships between the characters beautifully in the music.
The story of The Miserly Knight concerns Albert, a knight who has fallen on hard times, who can't even raise enough money to enter a tournament. It's particularly galling to Albert since his father, the Baron, is a very rich man who avariciously hoards all his wealth, horrified that his worthless son might one day inherit it all without having had to sweat for it. A Jewish money-lender suggests to Albert that he might want to hasten the day he inherits the money with a few drops of a potion that he can obtain for him, but nature takes its own course when the Earl himself suggests that the Baron might want to help Albert by placing him into his court.
Written in 1904, some nine years after his first one-act opera, Rachnaminoff's own distinctive voice is much more in evidence in The Miserly Knight. Despite the limited action it's lushly scored, giving strong character to the all the roles, not just the principals. The stage setting of the work tries to find a way to reflect this in the images of a ruined abandoned building, which means that occasional graffiti is thrown up unusual associations - Jimi Hendrix appearing on the screen at one point - but combined again here with very strong singing performances from Dmitry Golovnin and Sergei Leiferkus, it comes across impressively.
Although never composed to play as a trilogy, the order of composition sequence works well for the purposes of the La Monnaie Rachmaninoff Troika in progression and development. By the time we get to Francesca da Rimini (1905), the full force and brilliance of the orchestral composition, arrangements and dramatic intent is striking. The haunting choruses of the damned in the opening section where Dante and the Ghost of Virgil descend into the Second Circle of Hell and the musical colour and sweep that Rachmaninoff has composed for this theatrical extravaganza is given full expression too in Mikhail Tatarnikov's marvellous conducting of the rich orchestration.
Other than some projections of swirling mists and the descent of Dante and Virgil on cables, there's not really any effort made to give any traditional depiction of Hell in the staging. Perhaps recognising that the visual element needs no additional 'colour', the costumes and lighting go for a contrasting monochrome palette. As with Aleko, the effects are mostly limited to lighting and simple pattern effects that give the impression of the steps being fluid and wavy. It's visually spectacular, but not one that draws the dramatic element out as well as Purcărete's Nancy production. With a strong, consistent visual element and terrific performances across each of the three operas, the La Monnaie Troika creates a fascinating Rachmaninoff narrative of its own.
Links: La Monnaie-De Munt
Sergei Rachmaninoff - Francesca da Rimini
L'Opéra National de Lorraine, Nancy - 2015
Rani Calderon, Silviu Purcărete, Igor Gnidii, Suren Maksutov, Alexander Vinogradov, Gelena Gaskarova, Evgeny Liberman
Culturebox - 15 February 2015
Francesca da Rimini was composed over a decade after Rachmaninoff's first one-act opera Aleko, but although the composer's approach to opera changed during that period, it still remains more of a lyric-drama than a work driven by narrative or dialogue. Called a 'symphonic opera' by the composer himself, Francesca da Rimini is still very much a mood-oriented piece then, and adapted from an episode from Dante's Inferno, it's very different from the Zandonai opera of the same name based on Gabriele D'Annunzio's play.
Almost a third of the length of the whole work is filled with an extended mood-setting symphonic introduction of low notes and lamenting choruses with only a few lines of singing. The dialogue here too is only to set the scene, Dante led by the ghost of Virgil into the Second Circle of Hell, a place reserved for those who have let lust override reason, whose passion has led them to deceit and murder. Among the souls twisting and writhing in infinite agony are Paolo Malatesta and Francesca da Rimini, both murdered by Lancelotto, brother of Paolo, husband of Francesca, after being betrayed by both of them.
Depicting Hell is a challenge as much for the stage director as the composer, but it's one that Silviu Purcărete does just as well as Rachmaninoff. Whether the story of Francesca da Rimini is told in flashback or is actually played out for eternity in Hell, Rachmaninoff's approach is (in contrast to Zandonai) clearly to emphasise the horror rather than the romance, and Purcãrete works according to what can be heard in the highly descriptive and evocative music. There in the Second Circle of Hell, black-robed monk-like figures with full-length skeletons draped over their backs writhe and swirl to the rumbling, crashing percussion and the swirling music score.
Out of the number of the condemned appear Paolo Malatesta and Francesca da Rimini, both clutching their own skeletons. Following the opening scene setting, and continuing with a distinct structure of its own, the second part of Rachmaninoff's symphonic opera features an extended monologue by Lancelotto Malatesta who bitterly recounts how he came to murder his wife and brother, correcting the wrong that had been done by both of them. In this monologue we get all the familiar backstory of Francesca's mistake, falling for Paolo's beauty and her shock at the realisation that it is Lancelotto, the deformed Malatesta brother, who is the man she is meant to marry.
The third part of the opera then depicts Francesco and Paolo's downfall, which we already know is going to be duet of death. If you weren't familiar with the story, the music alone would be enough to tell you of the likely outcome, but the sense of menace is further heightened by Paolo's account of the tale of Lancelot and Guinevere to Francesca in Modest Tchaikovsky's libretto. Silviu Purcãrete's direction, taking place in Hell, with skeletons looking on from the surrounding darkness is strikingly effective in this respect too. The romantic tension as Francesca attempts to resists the attraction she feels and her inability to resist Paolo's advances has a distinctly menacing edge then that is further enhanced in this strong production design.
Another reason why you might be forewarned of the outcome comes though the work's usual presentation alongside Rachmaninoff's earlier one-act opera Aleko. The themes are closely related - an unfaithful wife who takes a lover and is killed when the jealous husband discovers the infidelity. Inevitably, a director can make connections between the two works when they are performed together, particularly when the wife and the jealous husband are sung by the same soprano and baritone. That works well here, Alexander Vinogradov strong in both roles as Aleko/Lancelotto, although as with her Zemfira, Francesca is a testing role for Gelena Gaskarova.
Less effective are the direct visual links that the director uses to connect the two works. The hints are there earlier on, Gelena Gaskarova seen initially in the same modern dress as Zemfira, transforming into period costume as Francesca. It works to remind the viewer that the story is an age-old one, that relations between man and woman were ever thus (ensuring a steady stream of penitents in the Second Circle of Hell). Less necessary is the dancing bear (or man in the bear suit) from this production's Aleko (quite what sin of Lust he has committed to end up there is a mystery), and it's not a great surprise to see Aleko's car crash in to this realm at the end as well. The consistency of the approach to the musical performances by conductor Rani Calderon is matched however by Silviu Purcărete's striking visual representation, making this a fine production of these two rarely performed works.
Links: Culturebox, L'Opéra National de Lorraine
Sergei Rachmaninoff - Aleko
L'Opéra National de Lorraine, Nancy - 2015
Rani Calderon, Silviu Purcărete, Alexander Vinogradov, Suren Maksutov, Miklos Sebestyen, Gelena Gaskarova, Svetlana Lifar
Culturebox - 15 February 2015
Rachmaninoff composed three one-act operas, but it's rare to see any of them performed. The character of the works don't really make them suitable to pair with any other work than another Rachmaninoff, but the specific requirements of Russian singing means that even that occasion is rare when there are few enough Russian works in the popular repertoire. Rachmaninoff's operas are not in the same league as those of Tchaikovsky, Rimsky-Korsakov, Mussorgsky, Borodin or Glinka that are already largely neglected, so it's a delight then to have the opportunity to see two of the three Rachmaninoff's performed fully-staged at the Opéra National de Lorraine in Nancy.
But for the singing demands that have nothing in common with verismo opera, Aleko would fit thematically very well in a double-bill alongside Puccini's Il Tabarro, Leoncavallo's I Pagliacci or Mascagni's Cavalleria Rusticana. Based on a dramatic poem by Pushkin, 'The Gypsies', Aleko is a compact and intense little drama, filled with local colour, dark undercurrents and sudden violence. Rachmaninoff's music captures all that colour wonderfully, reminiscent of Tchaikovsky (Eugene Onegin in particular in those moments of nostalgic reminiscence), but softer and more soulful, less coolly calculated, with some elements of folk music.
The folk music is immediately apparent, used to set the gypsy colour of the work. Played around a campfire by musicians, the music evokes the past for one old man, the father of Zemfira, bringing back memories of his short-lived marriage to Mariula. At a similar camp on a night like this, Mariula took off with another band of gypsies camped nearby, leaving him and their daughter without a word. Zemfira has now grown up and is married to Aleko, but the marriage is in trouble, Zemfira secretly seeing her lover behind Aleko's back. Listening to the music and the old man's story, the jealous Aleko talks darkly about vengeance. Gypsies and jealous lovers, you can take a stab at how this one is going to end...
While the campfire music stirs up echoes of the past for the old man and anger in Aleko, the remainder of the camp - here a group of circus performers - celebrate youth, freedom and dance. In Silviu Purcărete's colourful setting - created in 2013 for the Teatro Colon in Buenos Aires alongside Francesca da Rimini - there's a dancing bear, clowns and acrobats, all working with the glorious beauty of Rachmaninoff's melodious and evocative scoring for a variety of moods. As far as dramatic underpinning goes for an opera, there's little that suggests situation or incident, certainly none of the underlying menace that you might find in the comparable situations in those aforementioned examples of one-act verismo opera.
Structurally however, Aleko is a compact and beautifully balanced little one-act work, giving each of its principals their moment in the spotlight. The arias are very much reflective monologues, not much that moves the action forward, but that's very much the nature of the piece. When you have strong Russian voices behind them, as in the case of Alexander Vinogradov's Aleko, and the deep lyrical bass of Miklos Sebestyen's Old Man, the real Russian folk character of the work and the writing comes though. Less secure in delivery, Gelena Gaskarova's Zemfira and Suren Maksutov as her lover do however also bring about the dramatic incident well.
Presented at the Opéra National de Lorraine alongside Rachmaninov's Francesca da Rimini, this is a real treat to hear and see these works performed so well, fully-staged and with authentic Russian character. Both are available to view on-line through the links below. There's another chance to see both works in different new productions this summer at La Monnaie in Brussels, in a Rachmaninov Trioka that includes his third one-act opera Skupoj Pytsar (The Miserly Knight).
Links: Culturebox, L'Opéra National de Lorraine
