The performance of the dramatic legend of Hector Berlioz "The Condemnation of Faust" took place on the stage of the Bolshoi Theater. The Bolshoi Orchestra, the Viktor Popov Academy of Choral Art, Irina Dolzhenko (mezzo-soprano) and Leonid Zimnenko (bass) from the Bolshoi Theater, American tenor David Kubler and the famous Belgian bass-baritone Jose van Dam participated in the implementation of this large-scale plan. Alexander Vedernikov, the chief conductor of the Bolshoi Theatre, was at the console

Both the name, rare for Moscow, and the ostentatiously luxurious selection of soloists testified to the ambition of the project.

Until quite recently, it was difficult to imagine that the Bolshoi Theater would pull such a complex, incomprehensible and completely unprofitable machine: it takes a long time to rehearse, and then perform only once. Berlioz is still listed among almost unknown authors, and the memorable action of the Fedoseyev orchestra, which performed "The Condemnation of Faust" a few years ago, was then recognized as both successful and extravagant.

All this is ridiculous and completely out of line with modern Western concert practice. This is all the more ridiculous because it was the "Condemnation of Faust" that had a furious success in Moscow and St. Petersburg back in the middle of the XIX century — it was the legendary trip of the impoverished Berlioz to Russia, which ended with fabulous fees for him. These are different times. Berlioz is fundamentally unprofitable and can only exist with the help of sponsorship. And even the presence of the world star Jean van Dam alone cannot provide him with a full house at the Bolshoi Theater.

But the oratorio evening on the Bolshoi stage is, first of all, Vedernikov's image campaign, beautifully conceived, bold, expensive, and obviously not populist. Her success has nothing to do with the audience and the applause. Her success is solely related to the quality of her performance. Flawlessly played notes and a competent balance, in which the brass does not clog the violins, the choir harmoniously interacts with the orchestra and all soloists can be heard regardless of the strength of their voices — all this was demonstrated.

But Berlioz is an insidious composer. He can be rude, ugly and exciting. Or maybe it's neat, like after a renovation. During the implementation of Vedernikov's project, a lot of effort was thrown into the struggle for the quiet tenor of Kubler (in the part of Faust, he only beautifully flashed a couple of notes in the upper register, but the rest of the time he forced the sound to fill the huge space of the Bolshoi), to dock the choir standing on the stage and the orchestra sitting in the pit (for this, a system was even invented double conducting by means of a small television screen installed directly on the stage). But there were no love passions, much less devilish horror in the performance. Van Dam was good on his own, he smoothly and calmly sang his signature Mephistopheles part, resembling some good-quality actor of Soviet cinema, even grunted ominously a couple of times, but did not add hellfire to the performance. Dolzhenko, who has become simply irreplaceable in the mezzo-soprano repertoire this season, had no difficulties filling the hall with her voice in the role of Margarita. The stylishness of the performance was given by Popov's choir, which has such a treasure as boys' voices. But there is nowhere without a rich, bold and aggressive orchestra.

Actually, that's why Vedernikov came to the Bolshoi, so that sooner or later such an orchestra, such a composition and such courage would appear here. Berlioz's ambitious performance is a vector of the upcoming movement.

Source.
Ekaterina BIRYUKOVA,
Izvestia, March 18, 2002
And it's not scary at all
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