The First Two Nights at the Opera

Those of us in love with the emotion, beauty and drama of opera often talk about its universal appeal; here in St. Petersburg, it seems it is universally attended--by Russians of all ages and stations, as well as by tourists. The halls of the Mikhailovsky theater were filled with the murmur of Russians chattering as they took their coats to the cloakroom. In the beginning of a chilly summer, it was still necessary to wear a jacket to the theatre if you were walking any distance. Plus, there is something very dignified about checking your coat in a cloakroom, and it is that much easier to show off your finery that way. Even in my 450 ruble (15 dollar) seats, people were dressed to impress in cocktail dresses and even black tie attire! I loved the opportunity to dress up, but I couldn’t help but notice when I arrived at the theater that the yellow striped dress I had worn matched the building’s facade...sort of.

The staging of the production itself was extremely intriguing; the director had chose to move the setting forward into Soviet era times, while maintaing tsarist symbolism--in the final act, he even indicted the power structure of the current Russian state. I thought it was an appropriate political observation, and since Rimsky-Korsakov was involved in the student revolution of 1905, I’m sure he wouldn’t have minded emphasizing overbearing power, like that of a tsar, or an apparatchik...or a president. Lead characters often had some distinctive feature about their Soviet-era costume which connected them to a chorus member symbolically dressed in correlating clothing from history. The children’s chorus, attired in period costume, would be acting out the scene as the soviet-era characters performed the part. Characters designated as oprichniki were dressed in what can only be described as secret service suits, but also dog’s head badges, in an connection to the tradition of carrying a severed dogs heads from Ivan the Terrible’s time. The chorus costumes alternated between traditional Russian costumes and Soviet dress; in this way, the director managed to connect the overarching theme of autocratic rule from past, through soviet times, even through the present. 

While in theory a very intricate staging, in practice it was laughable at times. The hilarity began with a light person, dressed completely in black, spotlighting the opening number while directly on stage, which gave the production a somewhat haphazard air. Changes of scene were occasionally indicated by chorus members carrying giant white words across the stage; this was often mystifying...a sign saying ‘Novgorod’ makes sense, as it is a town name, but the reoccurring sign stating “honey”, that wandered across stage seemingly at random made the Russians around me (and me) giggle a bit. The high point of ridiculousness, however, was during Lykov’s Act 3 aria, celebrating his love to Marfa--a flashing marquee sign stating ‘lyubov” (or love) descended to the stage and he and Marfa climbed up on ladders held by chorus members, all while a very groovy 70’s floral pattern was projected onto the stage...

The voices of the company were all really excellent, and the director payed perfect attention to the lyricism of the work. Rimsky-Korsakov was writing in reaction to Wagnerian opera at the time, and therefore his work is focused on melody, and incorporates many folk themes. It frequently references the Classical period, especially in the first 2 acts--it is structurally much closer to Mozart, with defined recit and aria, a focus on melody, and arpeggiated accompaniment. It is clearly Romantic, in the influence of folk melody and themes and the size of the voices and music--and Marfa’s mad scene also echoed earlier Romanticism. The writing for chorus was spectacular, and the chorus even received applause after particularly rousing numbers. A high point was certainly Lyubasha’s aria in act 1, folk-style and completely acapella; I thought the warmth and agility of the mezzo-soprano particularly emphasized the natural lament which Rimsky-Korsakov sought to recreate. I was also most impressed with the soprano’s voice and acting; she portrayed Marfa beautifully, and had a really lovely spinto quality in her voice. She perhaps overpowered the tenor playing her love interest Lykov, but his charisma and lovely voice made it an unimportant flaw. As one would expect in Russia, the bass and baritone roles were performed to perfection.

I won’t ruin the ending for you, but I will say that I love the opera, and wish it would make an appearance in American repertoire more often! It is very exciting, and beautifully written--and the rest of the audience agreed with me. We applauded (in perfect rhythm, as is common in Russia) for about 5 minutes after the bows!

Apparently, I can’t avoid matching something at an opera, but when I saw Aida at least I didn’t match the building! April and I both wore purple dresses, which may have been the highlight of the evening...I am not superstitious, but I am beginning to think the opera Aida may be my family’s version of The Scottish Play. Every time I get tickets, bad things happen. In Switzerland, my mom broke her knee, and here, my dad wrote me right after I bought my ticket that she had chipped her wrist. Despite it being a Mariinsky Theater production, and rather excellent, it didn’t quite make up for the incurred bad luck.  It was in the Concert Hall of the theater complex, which meant that it was performed in a theater in the round--which perhaps isn’t the best venue for Verdi operas I believe with this in mind, the production was staged in a much more modern manner. I managed to get lost very quickly and spend a sad amount of time reading my program to follow the plot--and this despite having seen Aida before!! Much of the lighting was done directly beneath the actors, and the chorus was on stage all the time--which meant the theater was always lit enough to read a program. This unenviable combination of high lighting and a shuffling chorus just made the shimmering, magic moments of opera disappear. I underestimated how much I value a dark stage, the image of characters entering and exiting, and how integral purpose still is to operatic acting.

The costumes may have saved the night for me. It never would have occurred to me to outfit the chorus in such sci-fi gear. An ostensibly ‘Egyptian’ chorus was dressed in what appeared to be cut apart disco balls, shaped into French army hats and Jar Jar Binks ears, and armed with tinfoil swords and shields. It was as if Verdi’s opera had been transported to Star Wars, the planet Tatooine in particular. The Ethiopian soldiers were represented with cringe-inducing masks, reminiscent of R2D2 costumes fashioned from the remains of a sliced-apart cardboard 6 pack and colored blue. (I’m still trying to determine if this was inadvertently racist. Due to the bizarre ‘ears’ attached to them, I’m leaning towards ‘definitely’--but in Switzerland Aida actually sang in blackface so...perhaps it’s cultural staging?). Amneris hair was arranged in one of Padme’s hairstyles, and of course, Aida had buns and braids exactly like Princess Leia. So, I was saddened when the tenor was not dressed like Han Solo, but I thought Radames did an admirable job rocking his new drop-crotch look. I was disappointed that he didn’t drop some beats in those pants. 

The singing was of a high quality, if a bit scaled back for the hall. I have a feeling it was a very difficult place to sing in due to the size and round structure. However, I was so distracted by the movement, shuffling and confused staging of the pieces, that I’m left with really little impression of the music. It being Verdi, of course there were moments of transporting brilliance, but I am left with little to say about them--I was usually looking around the hall, at the chorus, or at my program. I did find the mezzo’s voice far too covered, and I think her Italian had a Russian accent, in contrast to the rest of the company. Aida herself had a lovely warm soprano tone, but there were definitely moments she didn’t carry over the orchestra, however her presence on stage was so graceful and beautiful this mattered little. My main memory of Radames is centered on his fascinating costume of drop-crotch pants.

The best part of Aida was having my friend April along to giggle at the intriguing production! In conclusion, right now I love the Mikhailovsky theater more than the Mariinsky--which I will prove when I sing the praises of their production of L'elisir d'amore!