In the West Rimsky-Korsakov’s
operas are rarely played, even if several
of them are well-known to music-lovers
through individual arias and other excerpts.
Others are completely unknown. Since
he wrote operas from quite early in
life until the very end, he naturally
had a liking for the genre and there
is no denying that they contain much
wonderful music. Whether they are masterpieces
as operas is another matter. I will
touch on that subject while commenting
on the individual works here.
The reason for issuing
these works as a boxed set is that Capriccio
had them available and saw an opportunity
to recycle them at budget price. Since
they are probably still available separately
I have also listed them with individual
numbers and timings.
The four operas cover
around 35 years of Rimsky-Korsakov’s
life and although three of them are
fairy-tale based, their subjects and
consequently their musical treatment
differ quite markedly. Rimsky-Korsakov
was a master of orchestration and we
can enjoy his skill in many instances
during the course of the nine hours
it takes to play these eight CDs straight
through.
Three of the four operas
were recorded in Sofia with Bulgarian
forces back in the mid-eighties while
May Night was set down in Cologne
with local orchestral and choral forces
and with soloists from the Bolshoi a
decade later. These should be favourable
conditions for authentic performances.
Sound quality is good
without being exceptional – the Bulgarian
recordings tend to favour the solo voices.
The result is that if you find a nice
setting of the volume to enjoy the orchestra,
when the soloists enter you have them
right in your lap. Of course you adjust
to this but the effect is that the voices
can sometimes sound harsh, since there
is a great deal of Slavonic vibrato
and hardness of tone to be heard. The
results would have been more pleasing
to listen to if the recording had been
made with more space around the voices.
Orchestral playing is mainly good and
choral singing is full-voiced and well-drilled
... just not very subtle. The exception
is the Cologne recording (May Night),
where legenday chorus master Helmuth
Froschauer has an excellent team of
singers at his disposal. Here we also
have a more realistic balance between
orchestra and soloists.
Over, then, to the
individual works:
Snow Maiden,
the longest work here with a
playing time of 3˝ hours, was first
performed in St. Petersburg in 1882.
The text is by the composer, based on
a comedy by Alexander Ostrowskij. The
central theme is the misalliance between
the Spring Fairy and King Frost. This
has serious consequences since Snow
Maiden, their child, has inherited from
her mother a longing for love but from
her father an incapacity for it. The
rhythm of the seasons has been disrupted
and to protect the daughter from the
sun-god, her parents send her to the
humans where she lives with a poor couple
in Tsar Berendey’s realm. Snow Maiden
is unhappy and to cheer her up her best
friend Kupava invites her to her wedding
and introduces her to her fiancée
Misgir. He falls in love with Snow Maiden
and leaves Kupava, who turns to the
Tsar for help. The Tsar questions Snow
Maiden who answers that she doesn’t
love anybody. The Tsar who is at a loss
how to reconcile the two girls invites
them to a ball, intended to mark the
end of the winter. In the evening Misgir
declares his love to Snow Maiden who
is so moved that she returns to the
forest and asks her mother to give her
love to Snow Maiden. The Spring Fairy
appears with garland of flowers for
her daughter, who feels something new
within her and goes to meet Misgir.
She accepts his proposal. Before the
wedding Misgir goes to the Tsar to get
his blessing, but a ray from the sun,
the symbol of love, falls on Snow Maiden,
who melts and disappears. In his distress
Misgir throws himself in the lake, but
as soon as King Frost’s daughter has
melted the sun starts shining again.
For this plot Rimsky-Korsakov
wrote wonderful music, based partly
on Russian folk music sources. His orchestration
is masterly. This doesn’t mean, though,
that the score is over-loaded; on the
contrary much of the writing is very
restrained and transparent. He uses
solo instruments frequently, which gives
the whole opera a chamber music feeling.
The solo violin, the horn, the flute
and most of all the clarinet are heard
in solo over and over again. But there
are also more monumental scenes: the
Carnival procession with chorus (CD1
tr. 13), the lively forest scene beginning
act 3 (CD3 tr. 1) and the dance of the
tumblers (CD3 tr. 4) are all exciting,
not to mention the short but intense
final chorus (CD3 tr. 17). The flower
chorus (CD3 tr. 13) is also very attractive.
Among the soloists
the two internationally most well-known
are also among the best. Alexandrina
Milcheva, the Spring Fairy, has a full,
vibrant mezzo-soprano, beautiful and
dramatic. Her aria (CD1 tr. 3) shows
her at her very best with long, steady
phrases; the recitative that follows
is full of intensity. And when King
Frost appears in the shape of the magnificient
Nicola Ghiuselev (CD1 tr. 7) the drama
is even tenser. He has a big voice,
still, at nearly fifty, without any
signs of ageing. He was for many years
second best only to his compatriot Nicolai
Ghiaurov, and here he has a tremendous
presence. It is a pity that neither
he nor Milcheva has anything more to
sing when the Prologue is over. King
Frost was, by the way, sung at the premiere
by Fjodor Stravinskij no less, father
of Igor, who was born just a couple
of months after the premiere.
The Snow Maiden is
a high soprano and Elena Zemenkova has
a beautiful voice with good coloratura.
This is also a vibrant voice but she
is no wobbler. Her lyric arietta (CD1
tr. 11) is a fine sample of her capacity.
Not all the others are on this level
of excellence, but Stefka Evstatieva,
who can also be heard as Santuzza on
Naxos’s Cavalleria rusticana,
has a great voice, while Stefka Mineva’s
fruity contralto is a bit over the top
with a heavy vibrato that doesn’t make
one think of a young shepherd. She has
a great deal of feeling though and if
you have strong nerves you could take
a risk and try CD1 tr. 18. The Tsar
has a fine cavatina in act 3 (CD3 tr.
2) but it is spoilt by uningratiating
tone and an ugly vibrato. Since Rimsky-Korsakov
on more than one occasion in his operas
levelled criticism at the Tsar it might
be intentional. On the other hand Misgir,
the merchant who falls in love with
the Snow Maiden, sung by baritone Lyubomir
Videnov, has a sonorous and warm voice,
a little reminiscent of Renato Bruson’s.
He can be heard to good effect in the
duet with Snow Maiden (CD3 tr. 7), where
Zemenkova also sings fine, hitting the
high notes plumb centre.
There is a lot of fine
music here, well performed by most of
the singers. Whether it is also a good
opera is another matter. The composer
regarded it as his best, but while act
4 is undoubtedly a well knit drama,
the preceding acts are too rhapsodic
to my ears. Maybe seeing it as well
as hearing it would give another, more
favourable impression. As it is it may
be Rimsky-Korsakov at his best, but
not as opera composer. Given that the
music is so lovely the missing drama
becomes unimportant.
If Snow Maiden is infused
with Russian themes, May Night, written
three years earlier, is permeated with
them. And here, probably more than in
any other work by Rimsky-Korsakov, the
music dances and the orchestrator had
a field-day. Several commentators have
found it too sophisticated, too much
of "an inappropriate salon atmosphere"
to quote the German authority on Russian
opera, Sigrid Neef. This is evident
from the outset in the fairly long overture,
which is very romantic with forest feeling:
French horns, tremolo strings illustrating
the rustlings of leaves. This is a fine
piece, well worth mounting as concert
opener at any symphony concert. Trumpet
fanfares and then rattling tambourines
are heard when the curtain rises and
the village people dance and sing a
spring song. The Cologne Radio Chorus
is excellent, probably more fine-tuned
than an opera chorus would sound but
maybe not as idiomatically Russian as
the Bolshoi would have been. There are
several scenes for women’s voices, e.g.
the Whitsun song (CD1 track 6) and the
long scene in act 3 with the water-nymphs
(CD2 tracks 5-7).
The plot, based on
a story by Nicolai Gogol and taking
place in a Russian village in the 19th
century, is as follows: Levko sings
a serenade to his beloved Hanna. She
is worried because Levko’s father, the
Mayor, won’t accept their marriage.
Levko sings about an old legend, connected
to the castle at the far end of the
lake.
In the second act the
Mayor and his unmarried sister-in-law
have as a guest a rich man who plans
to set up a brewery at site of the castle.
They are interrupted by Levko and his
friends singing an impudent song. There
is a fight and the sister-in-law is
by mistake locked in and accused of
being a witch.
The third act plays
at the castle ruin where Levko sings
a lovesong to Hanna. He recognizes Rusalka,
the queen of the water-nymphs, a step-daughter
of Pannochka, who drowned herself in
the lake when she realized that Rusalka
was a witch. Out of gratitude Pannochka’s
spirit gives Levko a document which
will set aside his father’s objections
to their marriage. As a matter of fact
it is an accusation against the Mayor
for his incompetence and an instruction
for the pursuit of the wedding. Easy
to understand? Well, who said that opera
plots should be easy to understand?
Anyway on this text Rimsky-Korsakov
lavished much wonderful music, well
performed by German forces under the
then chief conductor of the Bolshoi,
Alexander Lazarev, whom I actually heard
conducting a wonderful performance of
Eugene Onegin at the Royal Opera in
Stockholm, the day before I finished
this review. (See review at Seen and
Heard).
The solo singing is
more variable. Levko is one of the great
tenor parts in Russian opera and it
is entrusted here to Vladimir Bogatschow,
who partly sings quite well. His highest
notes are strained and his vibrato widens
alarmingly as soon as he sings anything
above a mezzo-forte. (CD1 tracks 3-4).
He sounds very much as I remember his
Otello at Covent Garden in 1997, if
my memory doesn’t deceive me. And he
actually gets worse: the song where
he mocks the Mayor (CD1 track 9) is
wobbly and the most famous aria, How
calm, how cool it is here, as one
English translation has it, embedded
in the scene with the water-nymphs in
act 3 (CD2 track 5) has none of the
elegance and melting tone that it sorely
needs. I only had to take out Vladimir
Grishko on a Naxos recital (Naxos 8.554843)
where we hear a true heroic ring and
steady tone, and the even more accomplished
Sergej Larin (Chandos CHAN 9603), who
also has a meltingly lyrical pianissimo.
I’m afraid Bogatschow is a near-miss.
His Hanna, Tatjana Erastowa, is a bit
thick of voice and is probably more
mezzo-soprano than true soprano. If
you listen to her five minutes into
the long duet with Levko (CD1 track
4), after the beautiful violin solo,
she sings really well with steady tone
and fine high notes. Of the two basses,
Michael Krutikov gives a fine portrait
of the constantly inebriated Kalenik
(CD1 track 7), who mocks the Tsar. He
is an excellent character singer, and
so is Vladimir Matorin as the Mayor.
This is an important role, first sung
- again! – by Stravinsky Senior. Matorin
doesn’t possess the most beautiful of
bass voices but it is big and expressive.
The trio in act 1 (CD1 track 8) is a
fine example. Among the others Vladimir
Kudriachow as the Distiller stands out,
a character with fine high notes (CD2
track 1), while the once quite famous
Galina Borisowa’s mezzo-soprano has
lost most of its former glory and is
unpleasantly wobbly. Even the Queen
of the Water-nymphs, Elena Brilowa,
has a voice that is monochrome and unstable.
Even if there are many good things here,
there are too many draw-backs, mainly
concerning the soloists, to merit a
whole-hearted recommendation.
The Golden Cockerel,
written 1906-07 and premiered posthumously
in October 1909 at the Solodovnikov
Theatre in Moscow, is a political satire,
again directed against the Tsar. It
is based on a story by Alexander Pushkin
and the plot, divided into a short prologue
and three acts, tells, as the Astrologer
proclaims in the prologue, a legend,
the lesson of which can be applied to
real life. The kingdom of Dodon is threated
by an enemy. No one knows what to do
until the astrologer appears with the
Golden Cockerel, who is said to crow
whenever there is danger. Tsar Dodon
feels relieved and promises the astrologer
whatever he wishes, a promise that the
astrologer wants written down. Very
soon the cockerel crows and Dodon and
his two sons march off with their armies.
Thus ends act 1. In act 2 we are in
a mountain pass, where Dodon and his
soldiers are resting; the two princes
and many soldiers having been killed.
In the fog general Polkan catches sight
of a tent and is about to shoot, when
the beautiful Queen of Shemakha appears
and admits that she is responsible for
the death of the princes. Then she enchants
Tsar Dodon with her voice and appearance.
Soon she is under his thrall. She also
agrees to marry the tsar. In act 3 we
are transported to the open place before
the Tsar’s palace, where the town-people
are waiting for Dodon to return. He
arrives with the Queen of Shemakha at
his side and the astrologer demands
to have his wish fulfilled: he wants
the queen! Dodon refuses and kills the
astrologer. Thereupon the Golden Cockerel
attacks the Tsar and pecks him to death.
The queen and the cockerel disappear
and leave the people bewildered. Curtain.
In a short epilogue the astrologer appears
before the curtain and reassures the
audience: this was only a fairy-tale
and only he, the cockerel and the queen
were real, while the "real"
people – the Tsar and his subjects –
were only shadows.
For this tale Rimsky-Korsakov
wrote a colourful score, as always masterfully
orchestrated and once again with a folk-music
flavour. In the introduction to the
prologue (CD1 track 1), after a short
muted trumpet fanfare, we hear a glimpse
of the well-known "Hymn to the
sun" theme, music that I first
heard in Fritz Kreisler’s famous arrangement
for violin and piano. It is to return
later, in act 2. The choral singing
is good – note especially the chorus
of slaves, concluding act 2, with fine
steady women’s voices (CD2 track 5).
The most impressive part of the whole
opera is the big choral scene in the
beginning of act 3 (CD2 track 6) where
the people are waiting for the Tsar
to return. Readers who are familiar
with the four-movement orchestral suite
from the opera will recognize this music
from the last movement of the suite.
My recording with Maazel and the Cleveland
Orchestra at break-neck tempo is undoubtedly
thrilling but it is far more telling
in the original.
The solo singing is
variable. The astrologer, Lyubomir Dyakovski,
has a bright lyrical tenor voice and
sings well in the prologue but is hard
pressed further on. Tsar Dodon, Nicolai
Stoilov, has a sturdy bass, not exactly
beautiful and at times unsteady, but
he makes a real character of the tsar
and he improves in the second act. The
Golden Cockerel, which isn’t a very
large part in spite of being the title
role, is sung by Yavora Stoilova, who
has another of those high, bright, penetrating
slavonic soprano voices. It suits the
cockerel, though. There is also a wobbly
mezzo-soprano – Evgenia Babacheva –
and an impressive Queen of Shemakha.
The latter sings the famous melody –
Hymn to the Sun – when it appears in
full in act 2 (CD2 track 2) and this
is something that should be heard. Elena
Stoyanova has no problems with the fiendishly
high-lying tessitura; she has a rapid
vibrato, sometimes close to a flutter,
and her tone can be quite hard with
a tendency to shrillness. But one gets
used to it and at about 16:00 (it’s
a very long track) she suddenly fines
down the voice and sings a beautiful
piano (well, sort of). Mainly
though this is rather one-dimensional
singing – but impressive for her stamina.
This must actually be one of the most
demanding roles for a lyric soprano,
singing almost constantly for more than
half an hour (CD2 tracks 2-4) and then
being required to dance with veils (à
la Salome).
The fourth opera in
this box, Boyarinya Vera Sheloga,
is something of a curiosity. The plot
is simple. To quote the booklet: "Boyar
Ivan Semyonovich Sheloga is an old war-horse
who loves war more than anything else.
He marries a young woman, but continually
deserts her to answer the call of soldiering.
During one of his periods of absence,
his wife Vera has an affair with Tsar
Ivan Vasilyevich Grozny that is not
without consequences for her: a child
– Olga – is born. Vera Sheloga now dreads
the return of her husband; she is afraid
he will kill the little girl. Vera’s
sister Nadezhda intervenes to protect
the child from the soldier."
This one-act opera
was originally intended as a prologue
to his opera The maid of Pskov,
written 1868 – 1872. The maid of Pskov
is Olga, the illegitimate child of Vera
Sheloga and the Tsar. Rimsky-Korsakov
first composed some music for this prologue
in the late 1870s but later he revised
and expanded it and in 1898 it was first
performed on its own, but not until
a few years later when it was used as
a preface to The maid of Pskov.
When he rewrote the music in 1898 it
was in "my new vocal style"
as Rimsky-Korsakov writes in his "Chronicle
of my musical life". This new vocal
style was what Sigrid Neef calls "imitation
of the
spoken word and melodic stylization”,
a method that Janáček carried a
step or two further.
The long overture has
much of the "old" Rimsky-Korsakov,
starting with heavy brass, but then
follows a string tune, slightly reminiscent
of Scheherazade. But then, apart from
the Lullaby (track 3), which is beautiful
– and beautifully sung – to a gently
rocking, dreamy orchestra (this piece
was the only remaining item from the
original sketches), the rest of the
opera is performed in a reticent, declamatory
style with a mostly very discreet accompaniment.
It’s all very beautiful but a little
lifeless. For long stretches the orchestra
just produces long chords as a black-and-white
back-drop, and there isn’t much drama
until the very end when the boyar returns.
Stevka Evstatieva as Vera, who carries
the main burden of the singing, is an
expressive singer with an ability to
soften her basically bright voice. Her
long monologue (track 6) is indeed fine
and here the orchestra is also more
active. Of the two mezzo-sopranos Alexandrina
Milcheva as Vera’s sister is excellent.
It has been interesting
and rewarding to listen through these
four operas within a limited timespan.
All is not gold and some of the singing
is, honestly, something of a liability.
I hope this review can be a guide to
readers with an interest in this repertoire.
Snow Maiden is probably the one
I will be most tempted to return to
and, since I will keep my notes, I will
know where to pick and choose in the
others.
Göran Forsling
for details 
CAPRICCIO 49 474 [8 CDs: 63:56 + 66:37
+ 78:46 + 52:33 + 70:47 + 46:17 + 72:24 + 49:13]
