Taking a gamble

Prokofiev, The Gambler. Metropolitan Opera, 3/1/08.

I called my mom and told her I was going to see a Russian opera.

"Is Dmitri Hvorostovsky in it?" she asked.
"No."
"Then I don't care."

That seems to be the reaction of the blogosphere (with the exception of Opera Chic), which is a shame. It's quite marvelous.

Knowledgeable persons told me to listen to it beforehand. Being a slacker, I didn't, but I didn't mind. I thought the music was totally accessible, vivid, exciting, powerful, and all that. The orchestra and Gergiev were super. It's not as easy on the ears as War and Peace, but it's not Moses und Aron, either (which, by the way, is fantastic).

Dramatically, though, I found it challenging. I just couldn't quite parse it psychologically. I can tell you it's about a lot of obsessive gamblers who destroy their relationships, but I can't tell you much about what it's about. I think I'm going to have to let it grow on me a little; these twentieth-century jobs just don't follow any rules. And that's why I love 'em.

The production didn't really help me get into it, either. Alexei's depressing little room was hanging out stage left and sometimes when something serious was happening it would happen there instead of in the main area. Sometimes this was because it was something happening in his room, but sometimes it seemed to be just because. I tried to unpack something symbolic from this about reality and delusion or something but can't quite get it to all add up. Gah, if I weren't so busy I would go again and try to figure it out more, but that's not going to happen.

This being a George Tsypin-designed production, we had lots and lots of shiny swoopy mystery set pieces, a raked stage, and a giant tubular frame thing I could swear I saw in Mazeppa but then it had severed heads hanging from it, not a spinning center roulette wheel bit with flashing lights that when vertical looks more like a ferris wheel. One of the shiny bits shoots sparks when Granny tells the General that she absolutely won't give him any money. It's sort of dumb, but it's fun. But later a horse statue starts shooting sparks and shoots up into the flies at a very tense moment near the end of the opera, which is just egregiously wrong. It looked silly, people laughed, and it totally broke the mood, which had been cooking along quite nicely. And it was so near the end we never really got back into it.

Other than the goofy set, the production was dramatically quite strong. It's mostly the same cast as the 2001 premier of this Temur Chkheidze production, and the mostly-Russian cast has lived with these roles (and, I think, each other in these roles) long enough for it to be detailed and precise. The principals seemed more at ease and confident than most of the casts I've seen this season. The chorus came out at one point in Act IV and just lined up across the stage in generic concert black and I kind of wondered if someone had forgotten to stage them, but whatever.

The best thing I can say about the singing was that it was as intense as the acting. Which, in this opera, is really important. Vladimir Galouzine does not have the most beautiful voice, it can be metallic and lacks much in the way of ring. But he's so loud, and so committed, that it absolutely works. I'm not sure if a pretty voice would have helped too much. Olga Gurykova had a rough first two acts with some very uneven singing--loud and wobbly high notes and not very audible other notes--but seemed to smooth out a bit after intermission and, while still a bit wobbly and harsh of tone, was solid. Sergei Aleksashkin was overpowered by the orchestra at some key moments but his solo scene was still very memorable, though I'm not convinced his voice is really big enough for the role. Olga Savova sounded good and very very very loud as Blanche (according to her bio, she's a Brunnhilde, which doesn't entirely surprise me). ETA: How could I have forgotten the wonderful Larissa Diadkova, who was great as Granny, who has quite an attitude?

So, yeah. Go. It's not hard to get a ticket. You're missing out if you don't.

As for me, I'm skipping Bohème and probably Satayagraha as well. So I probably won't be back until Tito, Fille, and maybe Macbeth if my liking for René Pape turns out to be stronger than my dislike for Andrea Gruber. Unless something else pops up.