Kirov Opera @ Coliseum, London: 20 and 21 July 2006
The Nose
Of all Shostakovich's compositions, The Nose is surely the closest he came to committing outright musical rebellion.
In choosing to adapt Nikolay
Gogol's tale for the stage he took a piece of satire head-on, free to
challenge coventions of form and voice.
This he did with music that taxed
vocal and instrumental registers to the limit, producing some truly weird
and wonderful textures and sounds.
He also ensures that the entire opera seems to
pass without repetition of ideas, with little or no thematic
development.
Gogol's story is pure farce. Platon Kuzmich Kovalev, a collegiate
assessor, wakes up one morning without his nose, which has taken flight and
a mind of its own. Rather than feeling pain at his loss, Kovalev seems more
distressed at the social problems this is going to bring. When he finds the
Nose in the Kazan Cathedral it already outranks him, now equivalent to an
army brigadier. In an increasingly bizarre and fantastic plot development
the Nose causes riots wherever it goes, tracked down to shopping centres and
finally cornered by the police. Though eventually returned to its rightful
owner, the Nose continues to cause no end of trouble to the story's end.
In bringing this to life Shostakovich's music is thrilling in its wild
unpredictability, and in Valery Gergiev he has the ideal advocate. The
conductor's arms are briefly visible above the pit as he flings them
skyward, coaxing a raucous bassoon here or a shrill wind instrument there.
The Kirov's sound is raw, but the instrumentalists, virtuosic as they are,
are second fiddle to a dazzling array of vocal talent.
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As the main character, Vladislav Sulimsky is superbly vain, and
does a nice line in self-pity. The Nose itself is played by two people.
Sometimes it appears in dance form, a man wrapped from top to toe in an
elastic white sheet who proceeds to perform disturbing, abstract moves, and
in vocal form through the full-bodied tenor of Avgust Amonov, who
again rather chillingly appears to have been dressed as Dracula.
Shostakovich's demands on his singers are famously fiendish, and none
more than the highest of high Es assigned to the district constable in his
famous Act One entry. This is supremely accomplished by Andrei Popov,
who continues to give a piercing vocal delivery along with a humourous stage
manner totally in keeping with the idiom. It comes as no surprise to report
that in the supporting Kirov cast there are also many wonderful things,
chiefly from Larissa Shevchenko as a staff-officer's wife, and
Tatiana Pavlovskaya as her daughter. As Kovalev's footman, Sergey
Skorokhodov makes an impact in Act Three as a tenor of some
distinction.
The staging is stunning and completely gripping. A large cylindrical
construction, put to good use as the cathedral in Act One, becomes a bus in
act three. Vivid lighting and various incendiary effects ensure the last
ounce of madness is wrung from the story, and with Gergiev at the helm the
results are never less than thrilling. Catch them while they're still here –
The Nose may be done, but there are other pieces in which to enjoy these
supremely talented performers.