Rimsky-Korsakov: Le Coq D'Or Blu-ray Review
Cock-a-doodle-wow!
Reviewed by Jeffrey Kauffman, April 23, 2012
Orientalism was a burgeoning tendency in several artistic idioms for centuries, a potent way to evoke an exotic and
little known culture. For some reason, though Orientalism had been at least regularly utilized for untold years prior, it
had a major outbreak (if that's the right word) in the mid- to late nineteenth century, and it seemed to have a special
allure to Russian composers. Most if not all of the coterie of Russian composers known as The Five at the very least
dabbled in Orientalism with some regularity, and at least a couple of them wrote large scale works that delighted in
recreating the evocative sonorities of Eastern cultures and climes. What's ironic if not flat out funny about Orientalism,
at least with regard to nineteenth century European musical approaches, is that it is of cours a decidedly
faux
Orientalism, at best. It's big and it's colorful, but it bears little resemblance to the often minimal (if no less expressive)
musics of indigenous Asian peoples. It may seem the height of cheek, therefore, that a
real Eastern Art, that of
Kabuki, is utilized in the production of an opera that at least traffics in Orientalism, Rimsky-Korsakov's not so subtly
veiled political screed
The Golden Cockerel, often performed in French (as it is on this Blu-ray) as
Le Coq
d'Or. This was Rimsky-Korsakov's final opera, and in fact one of the last pieces he ever wrote. There's some
historical basis to the folk legend that
The Golden Cockerel's derision and banning by the faltering Tsarist
regime may have contributed to Rimsky-Korsakov's quickly declining fortunes in health, and the composer died before
the opera was ever performed. The composer himself labeled his piece a "fairy tale with a moral", but like a lot of fairy
tales, there's a hidden subtext about the real life grown up world that was alarmingly prescient in Rimsky-Korsakov's
day and which seems just as relevant now, more than a century after the opera's premiere. This stunningly designed
Kabuki version was first performed in 1984 in a co-production by the San Francisco Opera, but it's revived here by the
Théâtre Musical de Paris – Châtelet, once again featuring the staging of renowned Kabuki artist Ennosuke Ichikawa.
Though Tsar Nicholas II would manage to cling onto power for around another decade, the bloody handwriting was
already pretty much on the wall for those who could see it circa 1905 – 06, after the disastrous Russo – Japanese War
and the incipient revolutionary activity that was already beginning to roil the Russian populace. Rimsky-Korsakov casts
a
foolish King, in this case King Dodon (simply remove the final "n" from that name to realize what librettist Vladimir Belsky
had in mind), who, like Tsar Nicholas II, gets involved in a completely useless and unnecessary war, making a pre-
emptive
strike against his neighboring land for no other reason than that he "feels" that land is about to strike
him.
The story of
The Golden Cockerel and King Dodon (Albert Schagidullin) is actually relayed by a mystical
Astrologer
(Barry Banks), who informs the audience in the opera's Prologue that the story being relayed here is a fairy tale, but
that
doesn't mean it can't hold meaning for those who are wise enough to see and learn. Though Rimsky-Korsakov and
Belsky
obviously wanted to mask their real intent with this gambit, there's little real circumspection in their portrayal of a
doddering idiot who brings disaster on his land and, in fact, on himself.
The Astrologer himself gifts King Dodon with The Golden Cockerel (Yuri Maria Saenz), a magical bird which will act as a
sort of canary in a mineshaft: it will crow in warning whenever Dodon's kingdom is in danger. The Astrologer exacts a
promise from Dodon that in exchange for this fabulous gift, the Astrologer can ask for anything he wishes at some point
in the future, and the King must comply. That sets the opera off on its main plot, where Dodon, reacting to the
Cockerel's crowing, ends up invading his neighboring territory, leading to disaster for (nearly) all.
This is an incredibly sumptuous and really fascinating production that retains an inherent feel of ritual due to its Kabuki
setting, a setting which also manages to bring out the folklore aspects of the opera. The cast here is made up of
Kabuki notables as well as an international cast that features a number of Russians. While the sets are minimal (per
Kabuki custom), the costumes here are outstandingly opulent, with glorious robes and masks for many major players,
and a fabulous costume for The Golden Cockerel.
Kent Nagano has always been one of the more adventurous conductors on the contemporary scene, and he invests
this
Golden Cockerel with a lot of flash and panache, a glittering patina that brings out the effervescently
glamorous ambience of Rimsky-Korsakov's opulent melodies. The cast sings marvelously, with Saenz's Cockerel a real
standout. The production also features some very appealing and authentically ethnic choreography, especially in the
third act, adding an almost carnival like atmosphere to the proceedings. Orientalism may be thought of largely as a
musty relic of a bygone age, but reinvigorated as it is here in this stunning
Golden Cockerel, the allure of the
East shows it is still alive and well and if not kicking, at least crowing.
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