This was Hajibeyov's last opera. It's very different from Leyli and Majnun, but not so much because of his artistic development--well, maybe because of that, but the main thing is, the earlier work--as most of his operas--was based on the Azerbaijani folk idiom known as mugham. That's why it sounded stylized in a way totally different from most familiar opera. This one is still unmistakably culturally distinct, but it makes uses operatic conventions in a much more recognizable way. Does that make it more accessible? Maybe!
Koroğlu is a folk hero in Azerbaijan and other Turkic countries. As far as I can tell, this isn't based on a single epic poem or anything like that; it appears to be purely an oral tradition. Certainly, no primary sources have been published in English.
The idea here is that the people are super bummed out because they're being oppressed by the khans. Who exactly are these people? They seem to be from a different ethnic group, probably, but it's difficult to say. The inciting incident comes when they blind an old man named Ali because he can't get them a good horse. Ali is the father of Rovshan, and following this, he takes on the name of Koroğlu, which means "blind man's son." Seems weird to change your name to match your parent's condition, but so it goes. Anyway, he starts a rebellion. The next act jumps a few years later; rebellion still going on, khans very annoyed by the whole thing and eager to capture Koroğlu. The best idea they can come up with is to capture his beloved horse, Girat. This will cause him to come to the rescue so we can capture him. A dude called Hamza bey agrees to get the horse, on condition that he be allowed to marry Koroğlu's sweetheart, Nigar, who is a captive, and I really have to point out that, if he's not motivated by the desire to save her (and to be clear, he definitely knows she's a prisoner), why is he gonna come for the horse? What priorities are these?
Well, regardless, now we're at the rebels' redoubt, an idyllic place where everyone lives in harmony. Indeed, Koroğlu brings over some oppressed people from other ethnic groups--Armenians, Georgians, Kurds--to help out. Hazma bey appears disguised as a beggar, and even though all the people treat him with hostility, apparently having forgotten that they were all about class solidarity five seconds ago, but Koroğlu lets him tend the horses. Naturally, he runs off with Girat. There's a party at the palace, and Koroğlu shows up in disguise. When he's exposed, he's made a prisoner, but there are complications: it is revealed that Nigar's brother Eyvaz was acting as a messenger between her and him, so Nigar goes ahead and confesses: yes, we were working against you. Screw all y'all! In the ensuing confusion, Koroğlu kills Hamza bey and rides off on his horse. Nigar and Eyvaz are going to be executed, but the cavalry headed by Koroğlu shows up to set them free and kick some khan ass, and there is much rejoicing.
JEEZ, how did that get so damn long? Was it really necessary?!? Well, what's done is done. You can really see the difference between this and Leyli and Majnun if you compare their libretti. The earlier piece basically consists of a series of poems or individual songs--back and forth back and forth, with little to no recitative and not much else. Whereas this one has much more variety: there's some recitative, and in addition to lengthy arias, there are lots of complicated choruses. Also--what you might not be able to tell--is that it's heavily dance-focused, with no less than four ballet sequences, two for the bad guys and two for the good. Which rule.
It may not be very helpful to compare the two, and I may just be displaying my prejudice in favor of traditional opera, but I liked this a lot better than Leyli and Majnun. Not that I didn't like Leyli, but there's a lot more variety here and, I think more emotional range. I'm super-glad to have seen them both, though. You're certainly not going to get an accurate idea of Hajibeyov's range from just the one.
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