Sunday, October 20, 2013

IL NASO (1927)

Speranza

Chostakovich,

Op. 15: Il naso, opera in tre atti, libretto di E. Zamjatin, G. Ionin, A. Prejs, Šostakovič (da Gogol') (1927-1928)

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IL NASO Opera in tre atti e un epilogo Libretto di Evgenij Zamjatin, Georgij Jonin, Aleksandr Preis e Dmitrij .ostakovi. tratto dalla novella di Nikolaj Gogolf Musica di Dmitrij .ostakovi. Direttore Alejo Perez Regia Peter Stein Paulo Szot, Alexander Teliga, Alexey Sulimov, Andrey Popov, Leonid Bomstein, Elena Galitskaya, Elena Zilio, Pavel Daniluk, Saverio Fiore, Andrey Borisenko, Mikhail Korobeynikov, Ruslan Rozyev, Pietro Picone Maestro del Coro Roberto Gabbiani Scene Ferdinand Wogerbauer Costumi Anna Maria Heinreich Coreografia Lia Tsolaki ORCHESTRA, CORO E CORPO DI BALLO DEL TEATRO DELLfOPERA Allestimento dellfOpera di Zurigo In lingua originale con sovratitoli in italiano Domenica 27 gennaio, ore 20.00 (turno A) Martedi 29 gennaio, ore 20.00 (turno Giovedi 31 gennaio, ore 20.00 (turno C)


It’s No Longer on His Face, and It’s Got Ambitions.


William Kentridge’s  staging of Shostakovich’s opera, “Il naso,” was one of the Metropolitan Opera’s most acclaimed productions of recent seasons.

And, for a critic just catching up with it when it was revived on Saturday afternoon, it was easy to see why.

With unflagging energy and unfettered imagination, it powerfully seconds both the irreverent zaniness of the Gogol story on which the opera is based and the teeming exuberance of Shostakovich’s music.

Gogol’s tale, from 1836, is a sendup of self-important petty bureaucrats.

His anti-hero, Kovalyov, a collegiate assessor who likes to be called "major", wakes up one morning to find his nose gone.

Possibly the victim of a razor slip by Kovalyov’s tippling barber, Yakovlevich, though the circumstances are, in Gogol’s words, “enshrouded in mist.”

"Il naso", meanwhile, has swelled to human scale and taken on a life of its own, complete with a career as state councilor, a bureaucratic rank higher than Kovalyov’s.

Understandably confounded and momentarily humbled, Kovalyov spends the work in pursuit of "il Naso," which he ultimately succeeds in having put back in its place, literally and figuratively.

Shostakovich, who was 20 when he began the opera in 1927, responded with a peacock display of his prodigious gifts, a richly inventive score that in retrospect seems to have accurately predicted many of the directions of his work to come.

The highly original special effects include an extended interlude for percussion alone and a song by Kovalyov’s servant, Ivan, accompanied by balalaikas.

Kentridge, a visual artist, took all of this and ran with it, mingling light and shadow, still and moving projections, puppets and humans, and filling foreground and background with words, slogans, images, outsize silhouettes and evolving sketches.

The scale of the whole is so huge, filling the proscenium, that when a window opens onto a room here or there, the characters in it do indeed seem small, in line with Gogol’s premise.

The setting, though never terribly specific, is clearly meant to represent the Russia in which Shostakovich was working, the nascent Stalinist era, with red flags and banners flying, and Stalin himself the subject of some of those sketches.

It was surely a time as rich in petty bureaucrats as Gogol’s Russia a century before, and so the satire seems as pertinent in that sense as it is impertinent in mood.

The performers included significant carry-overs from the 2010 premiere:

-- the baritone Paulo Szot as Kovalyov, and Valery Gergiev as conductor.

Szot certainly has Kovalyov down, in all his would-be grandeur and befuddlement, though, almost by definition, the role is somewhat thankless, with a lot of bluster left to compete with an orchestral clamour, and meagre opportunities for glorious vocal display.

Nevertheless, Szot brings a certain stature, vocal as well as physical, and considerable vulnerability to his winning characterization.

"Il naso", generally just a visual presence, has one big number, lording it over Kovalyov in the cathedral, which Alexander Lewis, a tenor, effectively dispatched here.

Andrey Popov, singing the high tenor role of the Police Inspector, is also strong.

And yet another tenor, Sergei Skorokhodov, gave a lovely turn to Ivan’s song in that gorgeous balalaika number.

The scores of minor parts were divided among dozens of singers.

Among the more impressive performances were those of the soprano Ying Fang, in her Met debut, singing with pure, alluring tone as Mme. Podtochina’s Daughter and soaring effortlessly over the chorus as the Female Voice in the cathedral scene.

Gergiev is a master of this score, and the Met Orchestra responded eagerly to his ministrations, reveling in Shostakovich’s brash strokes.

The fast-paced two-hour work is performed without intermission, much to the relief, undoubtedly, of any who had endured those interminable intermissions early in the week, on the opening nights of the Met season.

 

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