Corpse on the tower: “The Tsar’s Bride” was staged at MAMT

A landmark premiere took place at the Stanislavsky and Nemirovich-Danchenko Musical Theatre: director Dmitry Belyanushkin, in a creative tandem with conductor Arif Dadashev, staged “The Tsar’s Bride” by Rimsky-Korsakov, one of the best Russian operas, full of beautiful music and remarkable passions. MAMT’s production transposed the historical plot into the dystopian genre, offering viewers “a look into the future through the prism of the past.” This is exactly how the director-producer formulated his task, who came up with his performance under the obvious influence of Sorokin’s “Day of the Oprichnik.”

The opera The Tsar’s Bride was written by Rimsky-Korsakov in 1899. Russian modern. In painting – Vasnetsov, Nesterov, Vrubel. In architecture – Shekhtel with the Yaroslavl station, similar to a tower. In music – Rimsky-Korsakov, Lyadov, Glazunov. What they all have in common is the desire to understand what “Russian” is. To feel national self-identification and embody it in contemporary art.

The wave came from the very top – it was not for nothing that in 1903, at the behest of the Empress, a Russian Ball was organized in the Hermitage: all the nobility were obliged to appear in magnificent costumes from the era of Tsar Alexei. How beautiful they were can be judged today by the photo and the “Russian Style” deck of cards, which were released in 1904 and are still popular. The key categories of Russian Art Nouveau aesthetics are beauty and perfection.

Director Dmitry Belyanushkin, of course, knows all this very well. He also understands the context of today – historical conditions dictate an agenda similar to the beginning of the twentieth century: who are we, where are we from and, most importantly, where are we going?

The creators of the play found the answer: Russians are “naive and submissive”, not civilized, moving towards the dark Middle Ages into an ugly world of dilapidated towers, miserable life, animal instincts and bad manners. Neither beauty for you, nor perfection for you. A solid day for the oprichnik.

The production design is extremely depressing. The TOR (technical specifications) given by the director to the artist Vladimir Arefiev is clearly readable: make it as ugly as possible. The task was completed brilliantly: it is difficult to imagine something more lame than a huge tower with protruding beams, on one of which hangs a bloody corpse.

Svetlana Tegin designed the appropriate costumes, as if they were found in a garbage dump: everything is gray-brown, shabby, oppressive. The beggarly pink and blue dresses of Marfa (Daria Terekhova) and Dunya (Veronica Vyatkina) are no better. The semantic message of the costumes here is extremely conceptual. In the first scene, Gryaznoy (Dmitry Zuev) gathers guests in the bathhouse – where else does a real wild Russian man relax? All the boyars are wrapped in sheets. Only two are in civilian terry robes: the German Bomeliy (Valery Mikitsky) and the boyar Lykov (Dmitry Nikanorov), who arrived from overseas countries. Well, that is – Europeans – they are Europeans in the bathhouse.

Dmitry Belyanushkin learned a lot from his colleagues. And he stole. Of course, in the good sense of this purely theatrical term.

For example, Lyubasha (Ekaterina Lukash) is pregnant (we just saw pregnant Santuzza in “Rural Honor” in “Helikon”). But the author saved the main discoveries for the finale: Gryaznoy stabs not Lyubasha with a knife, but… Bomelia. So Lyubasha’s famous line “Thank you, straight to the heart” is gratitude to Gryaznoy for dealing with the damned German. But that’s not all. Gryaznoy addresses the words “Innocent sufferer, forgive me” not to Marfa at all, but to Lyubasha. The audience is tense: after all, in the text of the libretto there is immediately a direct appeal to Martha – what to do? But the director brilliantly copes with the task: Gryaznoy quickly crawls on his knees towards Marfa and manages to give her his line. Goal! Just in case, Lyubasha shoots herself at the end. Apparently, in order not to fall under the hot hand of the guardsmen – they are very bloodthirsty.

The musical side of the performance is sloppy, of poor quality and not up to the level that should be expected from the capital’s opera house. I got the second cast, but that doesn’t explain anything. Without naming anyone by name (it is a sin to offend singers), I will note general trends: singing without support – the voice drowns in the orchestral tutti, lack of overtone colors – the effect of choral timbre, inaccurate intonation in young singers, swinging voices in older ones.

At the helm is conductor Fyodor Beznosikov, who still has a lot to learn. The orchestra was at odds with the choir and soloists, the ensembles sounded discordant. Against this background, the ears and eyes rejoiced at Ekaterina Lukash in the role of Lyubasha – a beautiful timbre, a bright image, a beautiful appearance, which even an absurd belly could not harm.

Nevertheless, the theater can be congratulated for a clear message and a clearly expressed socio-cultural position, which can be formulated as follows: the Russian past is dark and terrible – God forbid it returns. And beauty, apparently, should be looked for somewhere else.