Sergei Prokofiev (1891-1953)
The Gambler, Opera in 4 Acts (revised version of 1927/28)
Alexey Ivanovich – Sean Panikkar (tenor)
Polina – Asmik Grigorian (soprano)
The General – Peixin Chen (bass)
Antonida Vasilevna Tarasevicheva – Violeta Urmana (mezzo)
Konzertvereinigung Wiener Staatsopernchor
Wiener Philharmoniker/Timur Zangiev
rec. live, 2024, Felsenreitschule, Salzburg Festival
No texts and translations
Unitel Edition 811608 DVD [132]

Prokofiev completed his opera The Gambler in January 1917 after working on it for over a year but the revolution meant that it was not produced, and he revised it ten years later for its eventual staging at La Monnaie in 1929 – but it would have been perfect for Monte-Carlo, whose opera house is actually part of the Casino there. Having lived with the score of The Gambler for a fortnight in the run-up to writing this review I still find it to be an opera difficult to understand but it is worth persevering. The music is full of energy, pounding, driving rhythms and ostinato. Prokofiev consciously wrote the piece in quickfire parlando style and there are no arias; indeed, it has been said that there is no melody in the piece. This is untrue; there are in fact many in the best style of this composer, but it is a not a lyric work, very different from The Love for Three Oranges or War and Peace.

The characters we encounter too are tricky to categorise and hard to love. Alexei is a twenty-five-year-old graduate, employed as tutor to the General’s children. He is obsessed with the General’s stepdaughter Polina. He is, by his own admission, a wild firebrand Tatar and Prokofiev paints his crazed, wild-eyed temperament vividly in his declamatory writing for the tenor role. The General is the classic, dark Russian bass. He needs money fast, as his obsession, the socialite Blanche, loves nothing else. The Marquis is very shady indeed; he seems to be pulling everyone’s strings. Polina is the hardest of the cast to read. Dreamy, flighty and enigmatic, she and Alexei torment each other throughout. She can be cruel and cold, a girl full of contradictions.

Ultimately, the players on this stage are more caricatures than characters. They are all obsessed by possessing something. It is a decadent, troubling, spinning vortex and in this production by Peter Sellars feels so more than ever: supercharged and overheated. Sellars sets The Gambler right up to date. We are in Roulettenburg, a place of stagnation, where hope, despair and addiction collide. Are we that far away though from our own world? Everyone on stage is obsessed with their mobile phones and bling reigns supreme. Sellars and conductor Timur Zangiev play the work straight through – over two hours without an interval. We may see from the perspiration on the singers’ faces that it must have been an intense, hothouse atmosphere inside the Felsenreitschule.

The Felsenreitschule stage is very wide but not so deep. Sellars places cracked mirrors and green backdrops over the lower layer of those arcades hewn from the rock face. Six or so flying saucer-type round tables ascend and descend and ultimately become roulette tables in the casino scene. The lighting is a little bizarre; it is switched on-and-off periodically as we move through the scenes. Watching at home can be a little disconcerting; it feels as if we are witnessing some scenes in monochrome before the “big light” comes on and dazzles us. I am sure it is intentional, but I know not why. In general, I enjoyed the production even though I still don’t understand everything that happens on stage.

The Gambler has had several productions since the turn of the century. In the Spring of 2001, it was seen at the Met in a production that to all intents and purposes was imported from the Kirov. The cast almost always included Vladimir Galuzin as Alexei and it was also seen in Milan and Paris. Back in St. Petersburg in 2010 a DVD was made of it (review). I have seen it and there is much to admire but Galuzin was caught a little too late. He did of course record it on CD much earlier for Philips in 1996 where he sounds much more youthful. The Met revived their Gambler in 2008. In 2010 Pappano conducted a run of very fine performances at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden. This was a classic Richard Jones production set in the era of the Weimar Republic, in English, and the three principal roles of Alexei, Polina and the General, were sung by Roberto Saccà, Angela Denoke and John Tomlinson respectively. In 2008 Barenboim gave the work in Berlin before taking the production to La Scala. It is on DVD (review). I could not source this for the purposes of this review but I imagine the role of Polina would have suited Kristine Opolais perfectly. The tenor in that Barenboim staging I have heard as Alexei: Misha Didyk also sang it for the Viennese opera loving public in 2017. BBC Radio 3 also broadcast one of these performances from the Wiener Staatsoper and I enjoyed revisiting it, superbly conducted as it is by Simone Young. I wondered: if Bayreuth had not secured her services for the 2024 summer season whether she would she have been reunited with The Gambler in Salzburg.

Vocally and instrumentally the Salzburg Gambler is very satisfying. The stand-out performance is a memorable interpretation of Alexei by Sean Panikkar; this American singer of Sri Lankan heritage will be known to some readers for his recent Loge in Das Rheingold in both London and Munich. He is handsome and convincing in the part, has a strong, clear ringing tenor and the accomplished technique to easily manage Prokofiev’s strenuous line. Alexei is on stage for much of the opera especially in this staging and he remains in the same casual, every-day clothing throughout. Panikkar relishes the demented side of Alexei which involves some pretty crazy antics such as his daubing of the Baron with pink paint at the end of the first act.

I have never heard the Chinese singer Peixin Chen before, and was very impressed. He has a ripe, resonant bass and an excellent stage presence. His is ultimately left in turmoil after experiencing not just the loss of both of his own money and the inheritance on which he has pinned so much hope but also the unbearable betrayal by his cherished Blanche.

Asmik Grigorian sings Polina. Since her debut in Wozzeck in Salzburg, she has had stunning successes in Salome, Elektra (as Chrysothemis), Il trittico and Macbeth. Polina gives her less to do than those starrier roles, but she brings to it her customary magnetism and passion. Polina should be tall, slim, mysterious and cold; Grigorian is all these things. She is dressed in a slogan T-shirt and jeans, sometimes donning a hoodie, sitting brooding stage rear. How involved is she with the Marquis? How self-aware is she? What secrets is she hiding? Polina is such a closed book to us, even by the end. Grigorian understands this well and plays the part to perfection. Vocally, I must report that her vibrato, always generous, is widening. Her spinto soprano has a lovely dark rich sound and remains under control but the oscillation does worry me a little. It is still a mesmerising portrayal.

The Babulenka (Grandmother) of Violeta Urmana arrives in a wheelchair with two attendants in tow, one of whom carries a couple of bags of her duty-free liquor. She has a huge voice – wobbly, yes but dominating as it should be, truly a Grande Dame of Moscow come to Roulettenburg. Juan Francisco Gatell plays the Marquis brilliantly, his eyes darting side to side, twitching uncontrollably and his lizard-like tongue flicks are most unsettling. We never really find out his part in the game – bitcoin dealer, perhaps? There is clearly a drugs connection, too, and he seems to control events from apps on his phone. Such a Mr. Big might really exist out there in our own society; perhaps there are very many of them and they’re closer to us than we think. It is thought-provoking and scary.

The Vienna Philharmonic play magnificently. As I mentioned earlier, they have this piece in their fairly recent repertory, and it shows; it feels well-rehearsed and flows organically. Zangiev is very impressive and the attention to small details really pays off. The sound Unitel have engineered in conjunction with ORF, NHK and 3sat is wonderful. I listened to it once with headphones and the soundtrack audio quality is superb.

For many, the greatest scene in the opera occurs in Act 4, in the casino. Prokofiev brings many more characters onto the stage to populate the roulette tables: winners, losers, croupiers, waitresses. The flying saucer tables spin, and Prokofiev actually composes wizardly perfect music for their motion, even down to the little phrases on woodwind and piano as the ball finally drops into its destination slot. It is genius. In this scene, the Fat Englishman observing two players on an adjacent table arguing, utters the words, “The hell of Manchester has fewer crooks than this casino”! Sellars fills the stage with all manner of gamblers, and the smoke machines are fully turned on. The chief croupier directs things with defter arm gestures than a North Korean traffic coordinator. Alexei breaks the casino. It must have been a tour de force for the time, an orchestral frenzy both in the pit and on stage. Soprano Lilit Davtyan as the Pale Lady is particularly good here. After all that time in their seats, the audience must have been stirred by it, but just to be sure, in the ensuing entr’acte, Sellars has the whole company come off the stage round to the front of the pit to sing the choral number right in their faces; if those good burghers of Salzburg were dozing, that would have surely woken them up with a jolt.

I know little of Dostoevsky, although I believe that he wrote his novella drawing on the bitter personal experience of his gambling addiction. I am, however, more aware of the career and music however of Sergei Prokofiev. The Gambler was written earlier than most of his machine music, but I would place it in that category. It will never be anyone’s favourite opera, nor is it his finest work, but it nonetheless contains flashes of sheer brilliance and staggering invention and is certainly worth a hearing; I was glad to experience this production. If you lack a version of this piece in your library, you might give this new account some consideration.

Philip Harrison

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Other cast
Mr Astley – Michael Arivony
Blanche – Nicole Chirka
Potapych – Joseph Parrish
Prince Nilsky – Zhengyi Bai
Baron Wurmerhelm – Ilia Kazakov
The Director – Armand Rabot
First Croupier – Samuel Stopford
Second Croupier – Michael Dimovski
Fat Englishman – Jasurbek Khaydarov
Tall Englishman – Vladyslav Buialskyi
Gaudy Lady – Elizaveta Kulagina
Pale Lady – Lilit Davtyan
So-so Lady – Seray Pinar
Revered Lady – Cassandra Doyle
Doubtful Old Lady – Zoie Reams
Passionate Gambler – Santiago Sánchez
Sickly Gambler – Tae Hwan Yun
Hump-backed Gambler – Aaron-Casey Gould
Unsuccessful Gambler – Navasard Hakobyan
Old Gambler – Amin Ahangaran

Production and technical details
Peter Sellars, stage director
George Tsypin, set designer
Camille Assaf, costume designer
James F. Ingalls, lighting designer

Picture format: NTSC 16:9
Sound format: PCM Stereo/DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Sung in Russian; Subtitles: English, German, French, Korean, Japanese