Liked of all his operas Pyotr I. Tchaikovsky “The Sorceress” rather. However, the love he professed himself does not necessarily correlate with the success of the play. The opera, which premiered in 1887 after laborious revisions by the composer, has only slowly become known outside of Russia for a good ten years; Now that the new production has been staged at the Frankfurt Opera, there is nothing to prevent the piece from becoming a success.
In essence, it is about the antagonism between the people and the authorities, between freedom and the strictest order. Nastasja, the “sorceress”, runs a pub outside of town, which is fun. The prince, together with his hasty manager, wants to put a stop to the uncontrolled goings-on. But he falls in love with the landlady, who desires his son, the prince is delighted and wants to flee with her, but then jealousy strikes: the princess poisons Nastasja, the prince kills his son and, in Frankfurt, his wife as well . He just can’t kill himself.
Tchaikovsky hardly composes a closed number here, but enchanting ariosi full of beguiling melodies, which he sometimes orchestrates in an almost adventurous way. Charming amalgams of folk songs are foisted on the people and Nastasja herself; In the fourth and last act, in the carnage, Tchaikovsky gives a damn about everything immediately comprehensible, making his composition all the more compelling because it is psychotic. In the music, the frenzy inside bulges outwards, it crashes without any sediment – Tchaikovsky and the conductor have never been more modern Valentine Uryupin lives this out consistently and quite stunningly.
Finally, the end: dark nightmare, surreal melting of the stage spaces, oppressive, exciting
Vasily Barkhatov, a kind of Russian boy prodigy of opera directing, listens closely to the music and, together with his set designer Christian Schmidt, creates a new world that harmonises perfectly with the original plot. Barkhatov has an uncanny sense of storytelling; he is driven less by overarching conceptions than by an interest in telling in detail a story that is valid today. Natasja runs an art gallery with him, and the (queer) visitors get into trouble with the police. For the long overture you can see the story of the sorceress in the video: church marriage, parties, the man a big zampano. And soon dead, probably drugs. Nastasja belonged to the class she opposes today. And who you meet again with the prince and his family: kleptocratic rulers, the wife heavily hung with gold, the son a boxer who hangs on his mother’s skirts, the salon hideous but expensive. Barkhatov’s administrator is an orthodox monk, the rich love the blessing of the church, and it’s no different with Putin. Finally, the end: dark nightmare, surreal melting of the stage spaces, oppressive, exciting.
As is often the case in Frankfurt, all roles are excellently cast, in the middle is the point of reference for everything, Asmik Grigorian. You can also translate the title of the opera as “The Bewitching”, then you know what Grigorian is doing. Her otherness is warm humanity, her singing-acting instinct pure miracle down to the last detail of every smallest gesture, every inconspicuous phrase. The system destroys the purest, most beautiful, brightest, most radiant human being.