<Translated automatically, it will be edited later>
The authorities of the Bolshoi Theater can say anything, urging them to believe that two opera premieres — "The Power of Fate" and "Adrienne Lecouvreur" — have already taken place this season. But these were rented performances, which means — in accordance with the domestic mentality — "not their own, not real". Khovanshchina, which premieres on Friday, is from a different weight category. Everything is fair here: both the production is its own, and the name is familiar. In addition, it is also iconic. And it is this circumstance that makes the project as ambitious as it is risky.
Probably, there are operas that can argue with the "Khovanshchina" by the vagueness of their meaning. But there is hardly another one that combines this nebula with indisputable philosophical depth in such an incomprehensible way. It is quite obvious that in an opera that begins with a denunciation and ends with a mass suicide, we are talking about very serious things. But about which ones, from whose positions it is stated, and in general who is right, who is to blame and what to do — you will not understand this in it.
Khovanshchina is a phoenix bird. The name itself, derived from Peter the Great's comment on the conspiracy of the Khovansky princes revealed by him, is dark and formless. Khovanshchina does not interpret or analyze the notorious mysterious soul of the Russian people, but is itself a direct expression of this very soul. It is not difficult to imagine what obligations this opera imposes on anyone who decides to deal with it.
There have been few such people at the Bolshoi over the past half century. In the 50s, a production by Baratov-Golovanov-Fedorovsky in the style of the "great Stalin opera" (edited by Rimsky-Korsakov). In the 90s — a performance by Rostropovich-Pokrovsky with post-perestroika penitential pathos (edited by Shostakovich). Now, at the end of his first season at the Bolshoi, Khovanshchina is staged by the young chief conductor Alexander Vedernikov, who is trying to touch on the strings relevant to our time in the opera about the church schism. Khovanshchina is an open system," Vedernikov effectively declares, "conflict is not resolved in it, and this is its great avantgarde meaning."
It is too early to say how much this staging turned out to be from the artist Vyacheslav Okunev (rather a traditionalist), director Yuri Alexandrov (rather a modernist) and the singing team, which has fresh arrivals (Valery Gilmanov, Mikhail Gubsky, Mikhail Urusov), and the indispensable charismatic bass of the Bolshoi - Vladimir Matorin.
But what can already be discussed is the choice of the editorial board, which in this case is quite a conceptual problem. Mussorgsky did not finish his opera, and since then many composers (including Ravel and Stravinsky) have tried to correct his brilliant oversight. The most widely used editions of Khovanshchina have two — Rimsky-Korsakov and Shostakovich. The former was loved by the Soviet government, so the latter has been more fashionable lately. Vedernikov chose the unfashionable Rimsky-Korsakov, saying that no one had really understood him until now. In fact, "Golovanov subjected this edition to a thorough revision in the 50s, reworked the orchestration to the chic Stalinist style, while Rimsky-Korsakov's original score is simple, ascetic, harsh and, apparently, most consistent with what Mussorgsky had in mind." Today, it will be decided how much what Vedernikov and Alexandrov did corresponds to our time.
Source.
The authorities of the Bolshoi Theater can say anything, urging them to believe that two opera premieres — "The Power of Fate" and "Adrienne Lecouvreur" — have already taken place this season. But these were rented performances, which means — in accordance with the domestic mentality — "not their own, not real". Khovanshchina, which premieres on Friday, is from a different weight category. Everything is fair here: both the production is its own, and the name is familiar. In addition, it is also iconic. And it is this circumstance that makes the project as ambitious as it is risky.
Probably, there are operas that can argue with the "Khovanshchina" by the vagueness of their meaning. But there is hardly another one that combines this nebula with indisputable philosophical depth in such an incomprehensible way. It is quite obvious that in an opera that begins with a denunciation and ends with a mass suicide, we are talking about very serious things. But about which ones, from whose positions it is stated, and in general who is right, who is to blame and what to do — you will not understand this in it.
Khovanshchina is a phoenix bird. The name itself, derived from Peter the Great's comment on the conspiracy of the Khovansky princes revealed by him, is dark and formless. Khovanshchina does not interpret or analyze the notorious mysterious soul of the Russian people, but is itself a direct expression of this very soul. It is not difficult to imagine what obligations this opera imposes on anyone who decides to deal with it.
There have been few such people at the Bolshoi over the past half century. In the 50s, a production by Baratov-Golovanov-Fedorovsky in the style of the "great Stalin opera" (edited by Rimsky-Korsakov). In the 90s — a performance by Rostropovich-Pokrovsky with post-perestroika penitential pathos (edited by Shostakovich). Now, at the end of his first season at the Bolshoi, Khovanshchina is staged by the young chief conductor Alexander Vedernikov, who is trying to touch on the strings relevant to our time in the opera about the church schism. Khovanshchina is an open system," Vedernikov effectively declares, "conflict is not resolved in it, and this is its great avantgarde meaning."
It is too early to say how much this staging turned out to be from the artist Vyacheslav Okunev (rather a traditionalist), director Yuri Alexandrov (rather a modernist) and the singing team, which has fresh arrivals (Valery Gilmanov, Mikhail Gubsky, Mikhail Urusov), and the indispensable charismatic bass of the Bolshoi - Vladimir Matorin.
But what can already be discussed is the choice of the editorial board, which in this case is quite a conceptual problem. Mussorgsky did not finish his opera, and since then many composers (including Ravel and Stravinsky) have tried to correct his brilliant oversight. The most widely used editions of Khovanshchina have two — Rimsky-Korsakov and Shostakovich. The former was loved by the Soviet government, so the latter has been more fashionable lately. Vedernikov chose the unfashionable Rimsky-Korsakov, saying that no one had really understood him until now. In fact, "Golovanov subjected this edition to a thorough revision in the 50s, reworked the orchestration to the chic Stalinist style, while Rimsky-Korsakov's original score is simple, ascetic, harsh and, apparently, most consistent with what Mussorgsky had in mind." Today, it will be decided how much what Vedernikov and Alexandrov did corresponds to our time.
Source.
Judgment Day
Ekaterina BIRYUKOVA,
Izvestia. June 7, 2002
Izvestia. June 7, 2002
