Oldi Ethnic Marketing is helping Chicago Lyric Opera to promote opera Boris Godunov to Russian Community in Chicago

We are currently helping Chicago Lyric Opera to promote the World’s Famous Opera Boris Godunov. We are working with major media channels closely to ensure adequate exposure of this project to all Russian speaking groups in Greater Chicagoland. Ethnic Social Media plays a big role in this promotion as well.

November 7 2011 - November 29 2011

Special discount of 30% is available as complements of OLdi Ethnic Marketing. Contact us for details.

“I have won power…but there is no happiness in my tortured soul.”
Boris

It’s one of the most searing lyric dramas of all time, featuring arguably the greatest bass role ever created.

The magnificent Ferruccio Furlanetto is Boris, who’s haunted by the specter of the child he murdered to become Czar, surrounded by whispers and enemies, and threatened by a pretender to his throne. And not only that — his people are starving.

The score radiates all the grief and grandeur that was Czarist Russia, with thrilling music for the huge chorus. But this masterwork is extraordinary in its intimacy, too — revealing Boris as both the public and the private man, as it peels open the psyche of a tormented ruler who succumbs to his own guilty conscience.

Did he or didn’t he? That is the question! Did Boris really murder the young heir to the throne of Russia, in order to become czar himself?

Mussorgsky’s Boris Godunov doesn’t give a definite answer, but in the title character it presents us with one of opera’s most riveting protagonists. Russian opera has always meant Boris above all — and no opera is more thoroughly Russian! Boris will mesmerize Lyric audiences in its return this season, with Sir Andrew Davis conducting Stein Winge’s sumptuous production.

It’s 1598, and Muscovites have begged the regent, Boris Godunov (bass Ferruccio Furlanetto, debut), to accept the throne as czar, which he previously refused. He finally relents, but on the day of his coronation, appearing before his people, he needs all the dignity he can muster to cover his own agonizing doubts. Five years later, the monk Pimen (bass Andrea Silvestrelli), tells a novice, Grigori (Erik Nelson Werner, debut), of the murder of young Dmitri, heir to the throne. Realizing that Dmitri would have been his own age, Grigori is also convinced that Boris was the murderer. Overnight he reinvents himself as pretender to the throne and aims to punish Boris. Meanwhile, at home in his palace, Boris finds his only joy in the love of his two children. When he’s alone, he’s pursued by devastating visions of the bloody Dmitri. His anxiety explodes when the manipulative Prince Shuisky (tenor Štefan Margita, debut) announces that Dmitri may be still alive — there’s a pretender in Lithuania, and his army is advancing on Moscow! Boris’s agony brings him to the point of collapse. Before all his courtiers, he presents his terrified young son Fyodor as the new czar and dies begging God’s forgiveness.

Mussorgsky wrote his own libretto — a formidable challenge, considering his source material: he was condensing a 25-scene (!) drama by Alexander Pushkin (author of the poem on which Tchaikovsky based Eugene Onegin). The opera was finished in 1869, but its beginning was ill-starred: Moscow’s Imperial Theater rejected it because it lacked a leading female role. Not until 1873, after the composer added the so-called “Polish act” (giving prominence to the “pretender” Dmitri’s innamorata, the ambitious Marina), did the opera finally receive its premiere.

Since then, there have been other versions, including those orchestrated by Rimsky-Korsakov and Shostakovich, both of whom attempted to “improve” the work of the self-taught Mussorgsky. In recent years, however, opera companies — recognizing the individuality of Mussorgsky’s sound, the conciseness of the 1869 version, and its powerful impact simply as theater — have chosen it instead. Lyric presented it for the first time in 1994-95 and will do so again this season.

David Mottley, who in 1977 produced the world-premiere recording of the composer’s original version, described what makes Mussorgsky’s first conception of Boris so extraordinary: “It never seeks to underline a point by means of superficial color or extravagant gesture. Instead the music is stark, brooding, introverted, and savage. Mussorgsky could portray loneliness and despair — so much an integral element in the makeup of the complex Russian soul — as has no one else before or since.” Boris offers unforgettable evidence that Mussorgsky could communicate “an overwhelming sense of desolation and inevitable destruction” through his music. There is astounding beauty in Boris, matched by a drama that will rend your heart.

This man did, in fact, exist, which must make him rather tricky to portray.

You need to be faithful to what he was. A friend of mine, the conductor Semyon Bychkov, advised me to read a book he provided for me about Peter the Great. In it you also find the history of the previous czars, Boris included, and Russia’s political situation. A czar would be running subtle risks constantly, with sections of the army always ready to rebel. Semyon told me reading about all this would be fundamental in order to get into the opera, and to think like a Russian with knowledge of his own history. So I read the book — and Semyon wasn’t merely right, he was a  million times  right.

We associate Boris with aggressive dramatic singing. Are there also moments calling for real vocal beauty?

Absolutely! In the scene with the children, after he dismisses his son, he sings the monologue. He’s talking to himself there, which he does in a sequence of glorious phrases. It could be Verdi — it’s singing in that direction.  Boris  is Russian verismo, truly theater in music, but there are also moments where you need the big legato!

In the scene with the children, he’sable to show them real affection.

He adores both of them, which is easy to understand when he speaks to them. In what he tells his son, there’s already the terrible worry of what might happen to the boy. Boris’s daughter has real pain and sorrow in her life, which saddens Boris enormously.

Some Borises get so involved that they rant and totally depart from the score.

I don’t like all that shouting, always an easy way to avoid difficulties. Shouting, going out of rhythm and inventing your own lines — you can have  moments  of that kind, but they should be very measured. Boris is dying, but don’t forget he’s a nobleman, with great dignity. If you start to shout, it’s melodramatic, rather funny, and old-fashioned.

When playing an historical figure, do you keep all the previous events of his life in mind when you’re onstage?

I don’t do that. I think the key is really just to live, word after word, what you’re saying at every moment. Of course, if you know the exact meaning,  why  you’re saying that word rather than another, the character’s past emerges by itself. There’s no conclusion about whether Boris murdered Dmitri —  he  doesn’t know, really, if he did. I personally think he didn’t kill him. He didn’t  ask  to become czar — they asked him three separate times, and he refused three times, before he finally accepted! If he had really committed the murder, he would have accepted the very first offer because he would have killed the boy in order to become czar. No, he really had great anguish about being the ruler.

I’ve seen singers in this role get very physical, running around and throwing things!

This kind of madness, leading you to death, is and  must  be very physical. He isn’t somebody dying in his own bed. It’s amazing to see and hear what happens to him in 25 minutes. He’s coming out of his room totally mad, but when he finally realizes he is indeed in front of the Duma [Parliament], he tries to pull himself together. He knows that for him it’s only a matter of minutes, but nevertheless he wants to give his son the last advice he’ll need to survive.

Do you do Boris’s famous death fall down the steps in the last scene?

Yes, it’s necessary, but of course, you need to plan it very well. It could be painful, and it could be dangerous! In San Diego, one night for some reason I stepped on the cape, fell in a different way, and landed on the back of my head. For ten seconds I was knocked out and seeing stars. I’m sure it was the most realistic scene I’ve ever done in this role! How do you feel about making your Lyric Opera debut?In 1978 I sang  Nabucco  in New Orleans, then in 1979 I was in that famous  Gioconda  in San Francisco, and in 1980 I had my Met debut. So for 31 years, from that debut to this very day, there was something lacking, and finally we will fill this gap. I’m so happy, so proud, so looking forward to it.

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