Déjà Review: this review was first published in May 2002 and the recording is still available.

Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975)
Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk, Op 29 (1932)
Opera in four acts
Katerina Ismailova – Galina Vishnevskaya (soprano)
Sergey – Nicolai Gedda (tenor)
Ambrosian Opera Chorus
London Philharmonic Orchestra / Mstislav Rostropovich
rec. 1978, No 1 Studio, Abbey Road, London
Digitally remastered at Abbey Road Studios, 2002
Reviewed as EMI Classics CMS 5 67776 2 ADD
Warner Classics 3712342 [2 CDs: 155]

Prejudice. That is why this work does not appear on the shelves of some opera lovers. The composer’s name conjures dissonance; thus are great works and performances ignored. That is a sad mistake, for one should really sit and listen. Then if you fall into the ‘hate it’ rather than ‘love it’ camp, your decision will be based on reason.

Further, it is unlikely that there will be a better recording. I was tempted to add the word ‘ever’ but that is presumptuous. Here is a recording that drips with emotion and power. Rostropovich conducts, cajoles, creates and controls a performance of outstanding fluidity. Of course that is what Shostakovich intended, with the orchestral interludes between scenes creating seamless sound in each Act. And what overwhelmingly powerful sounds there are: from quiet haunting accompaniment through wonderfully deep vibrato via sharp tonal contrasts and into brass and full orchestral violence. Here is musical tension second to none.

With Galina Vishnevshaya singing Katerina it is hardly surprising that there is an outstanding reciprocity of musical understanding: musical husband and wife teams are frequently so and this is no exception. Of course, Shostakovich made Katerina a more sympathetic character than she was in the original work, where cruelty predominated and no sympathy could be aroused. Here we see another side of Katerina. Whilst she is venomous to, and about, her father-in-law (listen to sam ty krýsa and shudder) she arouses sympathy in her lonely bedtime ‘lament’ Zherebýonok k kobýlke torópitsa; sympathy she herself feigns so well upon her father-in-law’s death. This is a performance of many parts: from warm cream toned richness to awesome aggression.

Her father-in-law, sung by Dimiter Petkov, has a simple character: thoroughly unpleasant. A mean, moaning hypocritical role (keen to protect his son’s wife until the early hours of the morning when foiled only by her lover’s presence) Petkov sings it so well he is believably dreadful. My only reservation is a slight lack of variation in dynamics until he returns as ‘his’ ghost, when there are dynamics and deep coloured variation aplenty. The ever-reliable Nicolai Gedda sings the sexually duplicitous Sergey. His distinctive timbre brings more than a hint of Wagner. This is a towering performance, moving through raw animal passion to obsequiousness. There is a crudity in the music which Vishnevskaya and Gedda capture faultlessly. The cuckolded husband, sung by Werner Krenn has a comparatively small and somewhat unattractive role. There is little for Krenn to build characterisation upon until his return to his home and one of the infrequent duets. He and Vishnevskaya provoke strong vocal contrasts in each other before violence erupts and ends in his death.

At this point, I cannot refrain from wondering why we have not seen a production on film or television ‘loosely based’ on the story. Two deaths so far, one more to come, with a mob-handed sexual assault scene (probably updated to a gang rape) and consensual coupling off-stage rather than the earlier on stage aggressive sexual passion.

So first to an assault. Taru Valjakka as Aksinya is a totally convincing victim manhandled with crudity. Here is frenetic singing and accompaniment demonstrating serious unpleasantness. Valjakka leaves us in no doubt about that with some heart-rending tones and ear-piercing cries. Birgit Finnlä, as Sonyetka, seducer of, and by, Sergey, has a voluptuous tone judged to perfection. There is some light relief, but not lightweight singing. Robert Tear is the ‘shabby peasant’ a role he obviously relishes both in its sober and almost drunken state. Leonard Mróz as the priest produces a vocal priestly parody with his deep, strong intonation. All this and yet more with distinctive and particularly clear singing from Aage Haugland, Martyn Hill and Alexander Malta. Finally, there is what we have come to expect in this series by way of an accompanying booklet. There is the usual full libretto which follows Richard Osborne’s synopsis of each scene and fascinating history of the opera and comments on this recording.

With such a cast, it is not surprising that this was an outstanding recording. Now digitally remastered, it is nothing short of a stunning recording, fully justifying its place in this series. So if you do not have it, overcome your prejudice and buy it. You might not ‘like’ it or even ‘enjoy’ it, but you will appreciate the power of the performance.

Robert McKechnie

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Other cast:
Boris Ismailov – Dimiter Petkov (bass)
Zinoviy Ismailov – Werner Krenn (tenor)
Shabby peasant – Robert Tear (tenor)
Aksinya – Taru Valjakka (soprano)
Sonyetka – Birgit Finnilä (soprano)
Sergeant – Aage Haugland (baritone)
Teacher – Martyn Hill (tenor)
Priest – Leonard Mróz (Bass)
Old convict – Alexander Malta (bass)
With Colin Appleton, David Beaven, Oliver Broome, Alan Byers, Steven Emmerson, Edgar Fleet, Leslie Fyson, James Lewington, John Noble and Lynda Richardson