Baritone Sergei Leiferkus about Sergei Slonimsky’s opera “The Master and Margarita”

Today, as part of the St. Petersburg Cultural Forum, Sergei Slonimsky’s opera “The Master and Margarita” will be performed on the New Stage of the Mariinsky Theater. The world premiere of the opera staged by Yuri Alexandrov was presented in October by the Samara Opera and Ballet Theater, which brought the performance to St. Petersburg. The role of Pontius Pilate, as at the Samara premiere, will be sung by a world-famous baritone Sergey Leiferkus, who told Vladimir Dudin about the approach to the role of Bulgakov’s hero, unburnable manuscripts and work with Vladimir Yurovsky and Dmitry Chernyakov.

— Did you agree to the role of Pilate without hesitation?

— If 11 years ago, at the anniversary of Sergei Slonimsky at the Mikhailovsky Theater, I had not sung the first act of “The Master and Margarita” under the baton of Vladimir Yurovsky and had not recognized this music, had not gained the experience of learning it, then I would have thought whether it was worth taking it, and , maybe he would have refused. But since I was already in the subject and had studied the “design,” I confidently and gladly agreed. Mikhail Gubsky, with whom we worked together in Munich on Prokofiev’s War and Peace directed by Dmitry Chernyakov, told me a lot about Samara, where I had never been before, and the Samara Opera House.

Therefore, when conductor Evgeny Khokhlov called and invited me to take part in the production of “The Master and Margarita,” I already answered “with pleasure” and began to teach. The Samara Theater worked very quickly, sending the clavier in a timely manner. I was very impressed by working in this new theater, where there is an amazing troupe that can do almost everything, where there are very good voices and excellent acting training – this is the kind of theater you always want to go to.

— So, Vladimir Yurovsky initially helped you find the keys to this not so simple music?

— Yes, he offered me the role of Pilate then, in 2012, I remember that moment well. We first met him at Glyndebourne on Janacek’s The Trickster Fox and became very good friends. He called and said that he would really like me to sing Pontius Pilate: “I think it will be very interesting for you, this is your role.” Director Vitaly Fialkovsky then staged a semi-stage performance, which was very good in its own way, but everything was different, the tasks were to present first of all the music, not the performance.

Slonimsky’s music is amazing: it takes a long time to learn, but once you learn it, it stays with you for the rest of your life, it’s ingrained in you forever—it’s so logically structured.

Although I don’t think that the audience will sing the melodies from this opera when they leave the theater.

— Did the name of director Yuri Alexandrov also play a role in your decision?

— Yes, we have known Yura for a hundred years, since he, then a young director, staged Donizetti’s famous “Bell” at the Kirov Theater. In The Master and Margarita, he made the tram the epicenter of events, which crushes Berlioz; it also hosts a meeting of writers, where Bezdomny runs with the news of the death of his friend. Margarita makes her flight to the ball also on the roof of the tram.

The visual side of the performance is incredibly mesmerizing; Irina Vtornikova set the lighting amazingly clearly and beautifully. The viewer sees three scenes at once on one: on the right there is a piano on which Judas plays, including an easily recognizable quote from Tchaikovsky’s First Concerto, on the left there is an urn that lights up at the moment when Woland says the sacramental “Manuscripts do not burn.” The master throws the manuscript into the urn, everything lights up, and then it turns out that there is an imperishable work.

I sometimes had the impression that this was not even an opera, but a dramatic performance with music and singing.

Yuri Alexandrov said about singing in this opera: when we flew together from St. Petersburg to Samara, that “the most difficult thing was to teach the guys to sing,” that is, not to traditionally sing arias, but to musically intone human speech.

— Was it difficult to “sculpt” the role of Pilate?

— My hero is a man of a very difficult fate: a tyrant, but, on the other hand, very soft and unprotected, a suffering person, dependent on many external circumstances affecting his career, life, destiny. It is not for nothing that Yeshua says that “when Yeshua is remembered, Pilate will also be remembered.” When the Master finishes the novel, Woland asks what words he wants to end with, the Master answers: “Free.” At this moment, the figure of Pontius Pilate rises in the play, indicating the moment of liberation. I begin to climb Calvary, turn into the hall and say goodbye to everyone, hugging the cross. The ascent to immortality and eternal peace is clearly visible in the play. If we talk about character, I was faced with the task of showing the power and cruelty, powerlessness and weakness of Pilate in front of himself, who does not know how to escape from this.

“He could not have given the order to crucify Yeshua?”

– I could. And he kicks himself for not doing it. There is a long monologue where he talks about why he didn’t let him go. Cowardice is the most terrible vice. In one of the episodes, Woland says from behind the scenes: “You weren’t a coward in battle, hegemon.” “No, I wasn’t a coward.” Pilate could not allow the procurator of Judea to suffer because of an unknown person. This relationship of power, reputation, his position and the moment of human weakness are carried out by Slonimsky with the intensity of incredible power.

Pontius Pilate even seems to be trying to help Yeshua when he prompts him to confess his innocence: “Perhaps you are innocent? Tell!” And he replies: “It’s easy and pleasant to tell the truth. All power is violence against people.” The director set the stage in such a way that a typist with a typewriter writes down the slander that Judas is making against Yeshua, as well as everything that Pilate asks of Yeshua is written down. The moment of modernity in the ancient scene is very important and understandable for the public.

— You, who happily performed Mozart’s Don Giovanni, Tchaikovsky’s Eugene Onegin, and Verdi’s heroes, were you also interested in modern music from your youth?

– Yes, it was interesting to me.

During my student years, I tried to take a broader look at everything that was happening on the music stage, unlike some colleagues who skeptically asked why I, an opera singer, “needed all this.”

Shchedrin’s Dead Souls, Peter I and Andrei Petrov’s Mayakovsky Begins appeared at the Kirov Theater. When I started traveling abroad, I added the music of Janacek, then Berg. In the premiere of Alexander Raskatov’s opera “Heart of a Dog” in Amsterdam, I performed the role of Professor Preobrazhensky, sang in Eötvös’s opera “Senza sangue” (“Without Blood”) in Hamburg, directed by Dmitry Chernyakov, where I first met this magnificent director with whom we worked soul to soul.

They say you can’t step into the same water twice, but I managed to do it in Prokofiev’s “War and Peace” staged by Chernyakov at the Bavarian Opera, where I made my debut in the roles of the old Bolkonsky and Matveev, and once performed Andrei at the premiere at the Kirov Theater Bolkonsky. It was amazing now to observe my chords, which were working at the moment when Andrei Zhilikhovsky sang Prince Andrei, I sang it with him, it is not forgotten.