Monday, November 23, 2020

Antonín Dvořák, Dimitrij (1882)

It's always a good day when you can see some rare Dvořák, you betcha, and of course, all Dvořák save Rusalka is rare. For whatever reason. It's another Fisher Center production.

This is a historical piece concerning the power vacuum created by the death of Boris Godunov. The people are divided: some are supporters of the Godunov family (which seems to just mean his daughter Xenia, the rest of the family having been killed), and some of the pretender Dmitri, or Dimitrij in Czech, who has returned to Russia with his new wife, the Polish princess Marina, and a Polish army to back them up. Supposedly though not actually, Dimitrij is the son of Ivan the Terrible. Though she knows it isn't true, Ivan's widow Marfa affirms that this is so, to allow him to consolidate power so she can get revenge on the Godunovs. Dimitrij's relationship with Marina is becoming strained because he wants her to assimilate to Russian ways but she's still committed to her Polishness, so when he meets Xenia, after saving her from some drunken Polish ruffians with ill intent, he falls in love with her and she him, maybe, although come on, he IS responsible for the death of her whole family, so she's, fairly, a little torn. Xenia is under the protection of Šujský, who is plotting against Dimitrij; when the plot is broken up, he's going to be executed. But Xenia intercedes on his behalf, and the smitten Dimitrij pardons him. Marina figures out what's going on and is pissed off; she tells Dimitrij she knows he's not really Ivan's son, but he remains undeterred. In retribution, she has Xenia killed (this isn't historically accurate; the real Xenia outlived Marina by some years). She confesses to the crime but also reveals Dimitrij's humble birth to all. Marfa reaffirms that he's her son but falters when asked to swear to this. As a result, the truth is known and Šujský kills him. The end!

I feel like you can easily encapsulate an opera like this just by quoting Boney M: "oh, those Russians." Apparently it's unlikely that Dvořák or his librettist would have known Boris Godunov, it not having been performed outside of Russian until the twentieth century, but it really is striking how this picks up exactly after Mussorgsky leaves off. It's also striking how it emphasizes the nature of Russian history with its superfluousness: if the message of Boris is that Russian history is just one unending tragedy, the message of this one might be, yup. That checks out. And I'm sure any hypothetical follow-up to this one would say the same!

Regardless, though, it's pretty great. It perhaps lacks something of the historical sweep of Mussorgsky, but at least musically, I'm not actually convinced it's the inferior opera. Really terrific stuff, including loads of absolutely massive choruses. There really is no reason the Met shouldn't put this on. The Fisher Center production is certainly credible, if a bit iffy in some ways. It appears to take place in the tail-end of the Soviet Union--though I don't know; you have various people wearing Ninja Turtles of Super Mario World t-shirts, and you think, okay, these things existed back then, obviously, but were they really on clothes? And even if so, would Russians have been wearing them? I have my doubts, and honestly, I think I would rather have seen a more historically authentic performance. It just feels like a story as specific as this one doesn't work that well in an anachronistic setting. Still, I got used to it quickly enough (although there's this little kid cavorting around the state at the beginning and end whose symbolism was lost on me), and ALSO! It features the return of Olga Tolkmit, whose Elektra I so appreciated in Oresteia, as Xenia. And she's great again, as the most sympathetic and tragic character here.

Great opera, anyway. Not that you'd expect otherwise from Dvořák, but this exceeded expectations.

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