Scarcely known in the West, Zacharia Paliashvili is revered within Georgia as the father of Georgian classical music, occupying a similar position within his homeland as Smetana does within the Czech Republic. From taxi-drivers to wine-makers, mention Paliashvili and you will receive an affectionate nod of recognition. It is customary for his most famous work, Abesalom da Eteri (Abesalom and Eteri), to open the season at the Georgian National Opera Theatre in Tbilisi; hearing the work, with Georgian culture weaved through it and with rousing lines such as “brave Georgians, up with your swords”, one can see why.
Abesalom, which premiered in its canonical format in 1919, is essentially a folklore opera which takes as its source the medieval Georgian epic Eteriani. Abesalom was not the first Georgian language opera, but it was the first to achieve a lasting hold in the local repertory. In form, it doesn’t deviate far from the European operatic tradition, comprising a series of arias, duets and big ensemble moments, with dancing in the second act, though many of the scenes feel like individual vignettes without the dramatic thread that we see running through, say Verdi.
Elements will feel familiar to the seasoned opera-goer – the heroine is fleeing a wicked stepmother; there’s a love-triangle and a villainous lieutenant; in death, the two lovers can be together. Yet in sound and in essence, it is unmistakably something different. Eter’s first aria – a lament – is haunting, seasoned with an Eastern flavour, while in the powerful writing for the chorus in Act 2, the sound is clearly related to that of the Georgian Orthodox choirs, powerful, resonant and distinctly idiomatic.
Georgian traditions which live on today, such as the tamada – the toastmaster at a Georgian feast – appear, while Georgian national identity and pride is directly invoked. Its plot is reasonably simple: peasant girl Eter meets Prince Abesalom and his vizier Murman as they hunt in the forest. Both men fall in love, but it is Abesalom for whom Eter falls and Murman swears revenge. At Eter’s wedding, Murman gives her an enchanted gift that makes her fall ill and Abesalom is convinced to send her away from the castle for her own health. She subsequently marries Murman and returns to health in his tower. Abesalom himself sickens through heartache and dies with Eter at his deathbed, who subsequently kills herself.
The current production, entrusted to Gizo Zhordania, emphasises the opera’s ritualistic elements, perhaps at the expense of character development; limited stage direction heightened this. Georgi Alexi-Meskhisvili’s set is a gorgeous colour palette of blues and golds: the stage is concealed by a giant gold circle which separates to reveal a largely bare concrete landscape with vibrant blue backdrop and – unintentionally festive to the Western eye – four stags, which in glittering gold resemble reindeer. The layout somehow contrives to make the stage feeling cluttered despite the sparsity of props. Costumes are lavish and evoke the medieval origins of the source material. The most impressive moments are in Act 2, which featured a 50-strong chorus belting out hymnal lines and an extended set of Georgian dances with some quite remarkable footwork.
Musically, the production was mixed. In soprano Makvala Aspanidze, we had an Eter who gave us a convincing evolution from naïve peasant girl to empowered woman. Aspanidze does not have a large voice and didn’t always manage to project across the orchestra, but as the evening went on, the voice seemed to open and she revealed an appealing, creamy tone with clean phrasing in the top of the voice.
Teimuraz Gugushvili’s tenor was bright, with ping at the top, but had a slight tendency to veer into shouting – unnecessary since his voice was incisive enough to reach across the house. Baritone Vakhtang Jashiashvili was a slightly underpowered Murman and gave a stolid stage presence, but there was a snarl to the voice that at times was reminiscent of a Scarpia; stronger direction might have made this a more three-dimensional portrayal. In the smaller roles, Mariana Beridze was an excellent Marikh (Abesalom’s sister), showing a gleaming silver soprano with dazzling agility at the top; it’s a voice that’s tailor-made for some of the great bel canto roles. Tenor Tamaz Saginadze also impressed as Field Marshall Tandarukh, while Gocha Datusani and Elene Janjalia brought the appropriate warmth and authority to King Abio and Queen Natela respectively.
Zaza Azmaiparashvili conducted the orchestra in a vivid and authentic reading; the brass sounded ropey and the strings were sometimes a little rough and ready, but in the woodwind d in particular the national flavour was at its most pronounced; there is no doubt that all involved performed this Georgian opera with utter conviction.
