This, Rimsky’s last opera, is a caustic satire of military and royal stupidity and incompetence. The Russo-Japanese War had ended badly for the Russians in 1906 and the parallels were clear. When Rimsky completed this opera in 1907 it was immediately banned; it was not performed until 1909, two years after the composer’s death.
The plot, simply: Moronic King Dodon is given a golden cockerel by an astrologer who claims it will crow if the kingdom is in danger. In exchange the king offers the astrologer whatever he wants; the astrologer tells him he will make his decision at a later date. The cockerel crows, the king precipitously goes to war, both of his sons are killed, and where he presumes the enemy is hiding he discovers instead the beautiful Queen of Shemakha. She seduces him, they marry, and he brings her home. The astrologer demands the Queen as his reward and Dodon kills him in anger. The cockerel pecks Dodon to death and the Queen disappears. The astrologer assures us that what we have witnessed is a fantasy.
This DVD is the only performance you will ever need. Rimsky’s sparkling orchestration is actually matched by the look of the production; recorded at Paris’ Chatelet in 2002, it is a feast for both eye and ear. A brilliant blaze of colored costumes designed by Tomio Mohri against Setsu Asakura’s simple but wonderfully lit (by Jean Kalman) staircase set is in Kabuki style, an interesting echo of the war that sparked Rimsky’s interest in composing Le Coq d’Or. A phantasmagoria of colors and weird accoutrements–long white beards, masses of feathers–gives it all a look that is beyond exotic: it is fantasy at its best. Ennosuke Ichikawa and Isao Takashima directed, using stock Kabuki gestures intermingled with sheer silliness. It’s a knockout.
Despite the Parisian theater, most of the singers are Russian. Bass Albert Schagidullin is a correctly outrageous Dodon. The voice is impressive, his presence even more-so. He rarely leaves the stage and manages to be grotesque and vaguely sympathetic at the same time. Olga Trifanova’s Queen releases cascades of on-pitch coloratura with a somewhat edgy, Slavic tone, but she’s very much in character and she seduces while singing in the stratosphere. British tenor Barry Banks sings the treacherously high role of the Astrologer (it goes to an E-flat above high C) with seeming ease, arrogant gestures, and a sly wit. The others in the cast, as well as the chorus and orchestra, are all superb under Kent Nagano’s sparkling, shiny direction. This is a must. [8/19/2011]
