Any opera-goer knows that an integral part of going to the opera is being given a little brush-up on remote, and perhaps somewhat obscure, historical events. For someone who, like me, is not so familiar with Russian history, Modest Mussorgsky’s Khovanshchina is a good opportunity to revise 17th-century intrigues, aided by a fascinating score. The Staatsoper Unter den Linden’s new production, in Shostakovich’s version with Stravinsky’s finale, centred such historical reflections, drawing a connection between past and present. Conductor Simone Young and director Claus Guth worked closely together to create a solid performance, where music and visuals matched the same concept.
The central idea of Guth’s staging is rather simple. While on one level it preserves the original historical setting, an additional narrative level – much closer to the present – frames events, presenting them like the object of study of an unidentified team. The intentions of these researchers are not clear: as the curtain lifts, we see one of them alone on stage, typing into a computer sentences that are projected onto the background. These captions describe the major points of the plot and provide the audience with context, but they also double as entries of files about the characters, as if an investigation is being conducted. Throughout the opera, other members of the team follow and record the episodes, as an additional screen placed above the stage shows what they’re filming in real time. This multilayered setting – stage, extra screen, backdrop – creates a complex visual narrative that reflects the overlapping time levels. Eventually, at the beginning of the last act, the captions urgently tell us that the project was aborted without explanation. Perhaps the research didn’t go as planned? Guth’s choice to leave things open-ended adds to the mystery, while mirroring the unfinished status of Mussorgsky’s work.
As for the strictly historical reenactment, Guth makes the most of the Staatsoper’s stage by devising rather mobile scenery. Different box sets identify the location of each scene with minimal but pleasing decor. In addition to that, the stage itself fluctuates up and down, sometimes revealing two alternating levels of action. With vigilant control of stage movements, especially in crowd scenes, and an eye for accent lighting – courtesy of light designer Olaf Freese – the overall effect is dramatic and animated.
A great sense of theatre was also at the core of Simone Young’s interpretation. Her experience as an opera conductor was evident in the way she gradually built scenes and even whole acts. Especially in its first half, Khovanshchina is taut and austere, leaving hardly any space for lyrical pauses. Young emphasised the latent melodic appeal of these sections, where the music isn’t overbearing but evocative and characteristic of the situation. Later, this naturally evolved into a slower-paced – but just as incisive – performance. Credit must be given to Young because of her good support to her singers, who were always sustained by the orchestra and often found, in solo instruments, ideal timbral companions. In the magnitude of choral scenes, the Staatskapelle and the Staatsopernchor both left a striking impression.
Undeniably, the vocal scoring in Khovanshchina tends strongly towards the low registers. The three main political factions on stage find their leaders in Ivan Khovansky, Dosifey and Shaklovity – two basses and a baritone. Even the main female character, Marfa, is a mezzo. This directly affects the sound of the opera, and in the case of the Staatsoper’s production, it created a compact block of soloists.