The Queen of Spades – Milan – Review
The program of the hall of La Scala, very neat as always, offers a bio of Valery Gergiev, but does not say a word about Timur Zangiev who replaced him. Almost at short notice, since this production was awarded in the torment of the “special operation” in Ukraine. Timur Zangiev, 27, was Gergiev’s assistant, he had prepared the orchestra for the arrival of the maestro, who never arrived, a victim of his compromises with the regime. The orchestra had appreciated the work of this already plump young man and wanted to continue with him. A conductor at the very beginning of his career who has only conducted in Moscow and St Petersburg, he will be applauded as the big winner of this show, which apart from that will not be a date (understatement). Missed opportunity for a work that La Scala rarely stages (every fifteen years at best, and during the twentieth century often in productions imported from the Bolshoi).
Mavlyanov © Brescia and Amisano
Neon lights, veils and black curtains
There are productions that are criticized for their biases or their aberrations. At least, on something to eat, but what to say when you can only make an inventory of poverty, awkwardness, clichés? We almost titled this article: “A Queen of Spades ruined like the ace of spades”…
The first act is a festival: huge panels of neon tubes (who will pass a law banning neon tubes on stage forever?), for the entrance panel (the Summer Garden in spring, we remind you) , a chorus of nannies all in black like Corsican widows (and like the black curtains that inevitably surround the stage), nannies that the director does not know how to direct (he seems incapable of getting the groups to move, we can check this on the over the course of the acts), and so the choristers sing to the public (moreover their first intervention is quite disorganized vocally, then the choir will be above all praise), a choir of children who parade in step, before crashing he too in front of the room, it all starts very badly….
Soon the neon lights will disappear to be replaced by miles of veils, found on sale we suppose, to evoke, completed by slews of big white cushions, Lisa’s room, cushions under which Hermann will bury himself (audience laughter) when the Countess. Patronage staging on the first stage in Italy.
In terms of decorative afflictions, the Countess’s bedroom will be added: the large panels will have pivoted once more, to reveal black velvet quilting to match that of the bed, reminiscent of a cheap furniture store from the seventies. Awful.
© Brescia and Amisano
In short, it is when the stage is almost empty (this almost designating the clouds of smoke, unavoidable of course and the providence of the suffering directors) that the drama will breathe best, thanks to the singers, given we will come back .
Not without having glanced (dismayed) at the ball scene at the start of the second act, treated in a Folies-Bergère spirit, with light women in Louis XV wigs, and olé-olé choreography (the word is outdated, like the concept), and a host of singers disguised as marquises and marquises of musical comedy. All this led by a silhouette in sky blue satin, representing the Count of St Germain, who we will see pacing the back of the stage at various times to recall the legendary and fantastic aspect of the story told by Pouchkine.
One more word to evoke lighting which often dazzles the public and which drools on the balconies of the room (desired effect or bad adjustment, one loses oneself in conjectures), and moreover, to stick to this random “light creation” , we also wonder why Tomsky (Roman Burdenko, solid baritone) tells his big story, crucial since he tells the “three cards” which are the crux of the drama, why he sings this long passage without being enlightened. Concept or negligence? The spotlight then falls on a couple of dancers in the background who, in short, embody the fatal loves of the Comte de St Germain and the “Moscow Venus”.
Gertseva © Brescia and Amisano
Finally the lyrical outpouring
We’ll have to wait for Lisa’s tune, “Where do these tears come from?” – Otkouda éti sliozy”, to have the feeling that things are really starting. First real great lyrical outpouring, and vibrating, carnal, disturbing tone of voice, above all moving with sincerity and musicality at the same time, that ofElena Guseva * accompanied by a thrilling orchestra. And we will have the feeling that by her commitment, this way of entering body and soul into the music and into the Tchaikovsky melodic flow, she will lead her comrades.
Until then we had found that Hermann (Najmiddin Mavlyanov) was unsuccessfully looking for his musical line, a slightly baritone tenor whose voice seemed cluttered. His first arioso, “His name, I don’t know, -Ia imièni niė znaïou”, had seemed quite bumpy with somewhat difficult high notes and his initial trilogue with his Sourine comrades (Alexei Bortnarciuc) and Chekalinsky (Evgenij Arimov) to the punch and lacking this overall spirit, which one could call Mozart since Mozart was Tchaikovsky’s great reference.
Besides, the ensembles will often go wrong there, like the quintet of the first act which puts itself in the presence of all the protagonists of the action.
Grigorian and Mavlyanov © Brescia and Amisano
Both Timur Zangiev leads the orchestral preludes marvelously, both the opening with its imperious brass and the first appearance on the strings of the heartbreaking theme of Lisa’s love, as well as the prelude of the fourth scene (the one that will lead to the death of the Countess) whether he conducts on a supple, lively, hectic, caressing and curved tempo all at once, or that of the third act, sustained, painful, with very round horns, he seems to hold the different ensembles less effectively in his hand. Under his baton we notice in particular particularly silky strings, and woods singularly present in the very clear acoustics of the Scala. On clarinets and flutes, Tchaikovsky often asks for acid or pale counterpoints, which contrast with the suave harmonies of the strings, and this young conductor does not water down them, does not seek to coat them, but on the contrary lets their pungency or their desperation.
Grand extravagance
The other essential protagonist is of course the Countess. If the first interventions of Julia Gertseva hadn’t been very striking, for the reasons we have said about the ensembles, it’s perhaps that she reserved herself for her big scene of 2, “I’m afraid to talk to him at night…”. In 2005, she sang on this same stage the small role of Pauline. She comes back to this for this Countess on the edge of the grave (I’m talking about the character) of which she offers a hallucinated/hallucinating incarnation, something that comes from performance or happening. Character inhabited by his vision like a Pythia, disproportionate gestures, dance of death. When the extravagance reaches such dimensions, to such hypertheatricality, beyond all realism of course, we just have to let ourselves be fascinated. Cocteau had found the expression “sacred monsters” to designate certain high priests of theatrical ceremonial. This short scene is just that. Can we talk about singing? Is it well sung? Is it even sung? We no longer ask the question. We get carried away, that’s all.
Julia Gertseva © Brescia and Amisano
The singers save the show
Because such is the difficulty of this opera. The spectacular scenes come to soothe the unbearable tension (it has to be unbearable) of the hardest scenes, a fantastic plot collides with a beautiful love story in the great operatic tradition (the tenor loves the soprano who must marry the baritone ), and the interpretation must give each of these episodes a fair weight of passion.
And this is how, throughout this performance, we saw the power of the music carry Hermann away. A little clumsy silhouette, bundled up in a not too well cut uniform, very “good boy” (which he was already in Sadko), we see him enter into the drama of his character (without being dragged by his Lisa) at the same time as the voice seems to open up, clear up, and the sentences have finally resulted in the legato we were expecting.
Among the secondary roles, we note the beautiful mezzo of Elena Maximova (Pauline) who sings her romance in a quite captivating intimate feeling and ends it on a the flat terribly vibrated, it is true quite high pitched for this type of voice.
Also endowed with a single air, but very beautiful, reminiscent of that of Prince Gremine in Eugene OneginPrince Eletsky (Alexei Markov) has a beautiful dark baritone voice. If the high notes are a little tight, this beautiful belcantiste air is carried with class and great dignity.
Still a very small role, that of Masha, the maid: Maria Nazarova charm with a luminous and youthful timbre; she is also the soprano of the interlude of Chloé and Daphnis, and does not need many notes to impose her vocal presence and her musicality.
Hermann’s two friends and drinking companions, Sourine and Tchekalinski are embodied with verve (perhaps taking on a little too much). Maybe also that like many of the members of this cast, they abuse a little of this vibrato that we concede with good heart to the Russian voices.
Gertseva and Mavlyanov © Brescia and Amisano
A shocking end
It is from the third act that we will be seized by the power of the drama, and that we will go beyond the shortcomings of the staging to let ourselves be carried away by the voices. I’arioso of Lisa, “Ah, I am at the end of my strength and suffering -Akh, istomilas, oustala ia…”, Elena Guseva carries her in a very opulent and velvety voice on a carpet of sinister clarinets. She achieves there, alone on stage, a poignant tragic grandeur. The second part of the aria will show the new strength that the character will have acquired, before Hermann’s entry gives free flight to a powerful duet, supported by corruscating brass; we will hear them as ardent as each other, transmitting the same melody in a vibrant exchange.
Mavlyanov © Brescia and Amisano
On the last scene (playing room with neon lights, it would have been a shame to miss it), we admire the very virile and particularly thick chorus of drunken conscripts (the choir of La Scala is of a uniform and a cohesion legendary), but above all the peak of power that Najmiddin Mavlyanov will reach, carried by the situation and by his long vocal and emotional ascent. “What is our life? A game -Tchto nacha jyzn? Igra! », he sings in a paroxysm of intoxication and exaltation. At this time, the tenor will have reached its maximum openness, power, brilliance. And this way of releasing a singer, whom we will have followed over the drama and the performance, will add its human dimension to this strange evening.
*alternating with Asmik Grigorian
© Brescia and Amisano