Bizet’s Carmen once again on the National Opera’s stage

The French composer’s charming music could serve as a symbol of European romanticism and undisguised human emotion. The brilliant Bizet lived a life as tragically short as that of the Spanish Romni Carmen, heroine of Prosper Merimee’s story. Both fell prey to unbridled tragic passions. Carmen died because she could not say no to the man she loved, and Bizet did because music was his sole all-consuming mistress. Unlike Carmen, he did not die at the hands of a murderer, but of a heart failure in a Parisian suburb, at the age of 36, only three months after Carmen had premiered in Paris and then been utterly trashed by the critics.

His singular creation was branded indecent and plebeian, base and dissipated. French society was shocked by the opera and condemned the music as monstrous. Today, both the story and the score are regarded as a model of spiritual openness, frankness and purity of emotion. Against the September 11 tragedy, it is the most golden of deeds and examples of moral splendor.

Compared to the original story, the plot has undergone fundamental transformations. And the same is true of the main characters: the explosive and amorous dragoon brigadier Jose, courageous bullfighter Escamilio, Jose’s tender kind-hearted fiancee Micaela, and the fiercely independent, fiery Carmen.

Peter Tchaikovsky’s view on the opera turned out prophetic: “ Carmen is a masterpiece, one of few creations destined to reflect most vividly the music trends of the whole epoch. In ten years, Carmen will become the world’s most popular opera.” Its triumph (also in St. Petersburg, in 1878) quickly proved him right.

* * *

Returning to the National Opera, the orchestra’s faultless rendition of the famous Overture led the audience to expect the best from the rest of the performance. Act I showed the sunlit square of Seville and the Spanish temperament of the love pentagon quickly made itself manifest. The nonetheless famous habanera about love quick as a bird and Carmen’s seguidilla by Anzhelina Shvachka were both expressive and touching. The singer has a powerful mezzo soprano, especially beautiful in the lower and middle register (and she knows how to use it). Her dramatic identification was complete; the audience saw an impassioned, tender, and proud Carmen who would stop at nothing to win the man she chose (too bad the object of her passion changed so often!).

The rest of the cast in Act I were a setting, a musical background to the heroine’s impassioned rendition. Nevertheless, one could not but notice Dmytro Aheyev’s excellent voice as Captain Zuniga; his part as the brave dragoon officer was flawless, and the duel with Jose at the bandit tavern, where the captain is defeated by his subordinate, was quite impressive.

Yet the lion’s share of the audience’s admiration addressed Oleksandr Vostriakov as Jose. His powerful dramatic (if not tragic) tenor allowed the singer to make the best of one of the most sophisticated operatic parts. Also, he was very good as a temperamental Spanish dragoon officer. Indeed, all ages submit to talent, and he masterfully played a simple village lad eagerly succumbing to the charms of the crafty Carmen (during the intermission one of the celebrated Ukrainian singer’s female devotees said backstage that he should not be so trustful toward women in real life; it is common knowledge that actors often reveal their true character onstage).

In the second premiere rendition (Carmen was played on December 28 and 30) Jose was played by Pavlo Pryimak, a young soloist with the National Opera. He was especially good at emphasizing the character’s other traits: tenderness, devotion, and ardor. He concentrated mostly on the lyrical, rather than impassioned, part of the score, especially at the tavern, when telling Carmen about the flower she had presented him and he had kept as a sacred gift.

One of the most captivating scenes was the smugglers’ quintet with Carmen. It was a truly virtuoso performance, and the audience responded with an ovation and numerous encores. The orchestra was conducted both times by Volodymyr Kozhukhar, true to his brilliant self. It was in that act that the opera’s one of the most colorful personae, bullfighter Escamilio, made his dramatic appearance (Mykola Koval and Roman Maiboroda). The expressive baritone part was made even more sophisticated by Russian stage director Nikolai Kuznetsov’s unusual approach. Escamilio appeared, much to the audience’s surprise, at the top of a graceful flight of stairs leading to the basement of the bandit tavern. Roman Maiboroda was more convincing, although the audience would prefer to listen to both he and Koval downstage and not so much in the background. And of course, the orchestra and conductor deserves every praise, never drowning a single voice, not even in the most “problem situations.” As always when conducted by Kozhukhar, the cast demonstrated a marvelous ensemble of soloists, choir, and orchestra.

The audience applauded the stage setting (by Andriy Zlobin) when the curtain rose to show the smugglers’ rocky hangout in Act III, with sinister cliffs hanging over the scene forbiddingly, adding to the drama and serving as an enhanced contrast to the smugglers’ rather optimistic choir singing that no one fears the customs soldier (quite topical in today’s Ukraine, to be sure).

The scene was embellished by Micaela’s aria. Olha Nahorna stressed every dramatic trait in her character, coping beautifully with the unusual soprano part (the singer is known for her bewitching coloratura soprano).

In Liliya Hrevtsova’s rendition, Micaela emerged as a tender, kind-hearted, and grief-stricken fiancee of Jose, conquering the audience with her submissiveness to fate, sincerity, and deep penetrating and charming timbre.

Colorful smugglers’ images were portrayed by Hennady Vashchenko and Petro Pryimak (Dancairo); Marian Talaba and Serhiy Pashchuk (Romendado), and their girlfriends, the Gypsies Frascita (O. Tereshchenko) and Mercedes (E. Klein, O. Yatsenko). The young singers really put their hearts into the job and let out all the stops, demonstrating colorful and promising vocal capabilities. And the scenes offered every opportunity to do just that: Jose’s wrathful jealousy; telling fortune by cards, predicting Carmen’s death; along with Escamilio and Jose fighting using daggers, holding the audience in suspense. Here the stage director vented his creative imagining. It was Nikolai Kuznetsov’s second rendition in Kyiv during the year (in May the capital’s theatergoers appreciated his interpretation of Prokofiev’s Love of Three Oranges).

The finale was, as usual, tragically beautiful and colorful, with expressive folk scenes and Escamilio’s triumphant march after killing his bull all serving as a background for the last dramatic event. The freedom-loving and impassioned Carmen, singing she was born and would die free, is stabbed through the heart by a Jose beside himself with jealousy. At the same instant the scene lighting turned scarlet as the audience held their breath, listening to the last duet of Carmen and Jose. How could Bizet’s contemporaries fail to perceive the brilliance of his music? Obviously, only a complete philistine could fail to respond to the melodies filled with passion, love, delight, and horror. This opera alone ought to have sufficed to cover the author with undying glory during his lifetime.

Special credit is due Hanna Ipatieva for the wardrobe. She produced a whole gallery of original costumes. While not all of them were perfect (especially in the case of Escamilio), the Gypsy smuggler motifs were without doubt a success, making every character colorful and memorable.

Lev Venediktov’s choir did much creative and inspired work, making every choral scene dynamic and inflammatory.

The second performance was directed by Alla Kulbaba who did an excellent job, with Tatiana Pimenova, as Carmen, showing high vocal and drama culture.

The cast sang in French, the language of the original score, meaning that there were problems for the singers. Some did not bother to work on pronunciation and the flaws were, of course, noticed by the audience. And the beautifully designed color booklet mixed up the names of the leading singers (checked at the very last moment, obviously). Now this is absolutely intolerable and shows a lack of respect for both the cast and the audience. It should also be noted that the stressed monumentality and traditionalism of the rendition caused one to assume that there are obviously innovative approaches to stage direction in Kyiv’s Carmen, as evidenced by Roman Kofman’s performance in the Opera Studio of the National Music Academy.

Nevertheless, the latest premiere at the National Opera, so warmly received by the audience, definitely has a tremendous future. At present, Carmen is one of the best repertory productions in Kyiv.