“The nose” at the Bavarian State Opera: a state exposes itself

Culinary enthusiasts were unlucky: Kirill Serebrennikov staged Shostakovich's “The Nose” as an evil police state satire at the start of the new directorship.

At the desk, Vladimir Jurowski avoids overheating.

You could put them on the ramp, neatly lined up. Or formed into a square. Or diagonally and across the stage. The policemen try everything. And what they ultimately do with the barriers is open and doesn't matter, the orchestral fugue still takes some time. Things are not going smoothly in this exposed, authoritarian state. What works against it: fight demonstrators, lock them up and remove the noses of innocent citizens so that they, disfigured into lepers, walk around with prostheses or masks.

Anyone who asks about logic is unlucky.

This is the case in Russia, as director Kirill Serebrennikov thinks, and a little elsewhere too: a hand draws the silhouette of St. Petersburg, but the word “police” is emblazoned on the jackets.

Perhaps Serebrennikov once read about the “Münchner Kessel”, about Wackersdorf or about the cocaine trade in the guard rooms.

So opera goers have to be strong.

No culinary delights to kick off the new directorship at the Bavarian State Opera.

Instead, “The Nose”, a garish grotesque about identity and exclusion, with which the young composer Dmitri Shostakovich reached into the construction kit of music history and glued together a wild, unheard-of, quotient-rich score that was tugged by centrifugal forces.

As a performance show of the Bavarian State Opera, the evening is perfect

Whereby: As a performance show, this adventure is perfect.

In addition to guests from the east, most of the Munich ensemble is active.

The choir has transformed into a tricky part.

And the Bavarian State Orchestra lets it light up with relish, playing on attack right down to the solos, reinforced by a drum battery that pounds Shostakovich's rhythms into our bellies.

As an interpreter, you could easily exaggerate that.

But Vladimir Jurowski, the new general music director, understood: Drastik remains a matter for the composer, not the conductor.

It is impressive how hardy Jurowski guides everyone through Shostakovich's insane slalom.

How he balances, tastes sounds, delimits layers, incorporates details, weighs them up instead of constantly shooting fountains.

Maybe also because there's enough gaga up on stage.

+

Applause for the director: Kirill Serebrennikov had to be switched on via video in the premiere - as in the staging.

He is not allowed to leave Russia.

© Wilfried Hösl

Serebrennikov, who is politically suspected in Russia and prosecuted for alleged embezzlement, is still not allowed to leave the country. It is astonishing that his remote control works via video conference here as well - which points to a strong Munich team around co-director Evegny Kulagin. Others, one thinks of Barrie Kosky's interpretation, like to drive the 100-minute film into revue, Serebrennikov takes “The Nose” very seriously. The olfactory organ can also hardly be seen. Even if Kovaljov whines about the loss, his singer wears one on his face. Only in the last third is a giant prong driven into this icy frozen St. Petersburg area, where sometimes snow mountains, sometimes demonstrators are removed by caterpillars and sometimes things that are reminiscent of body bags.

Madness, as Serebrennikov signals, lurks just behind reality, especially behind its Russian: Just one revolution in society and you have landed with Shostakovich and the underlying narrative by Nikolai Gogol, a hundred years ago as it is today in Putin's time.

Baritone Boris Pinkhasovich as the central star

Like the composer, Serebrennikov cuts scenic quotations hard together or fades them, playing with clichés and history. A balalaika ensemble chirps in front of lightbulb decorations, drunk Santa Clauses dance. A diva can be carried across the stage in a coffin (Doris Soffel with a cameo). Crowds form menacingly on the ramp while the batons dance. And the personified nose becomes the longed-for tribune of the people, who lets his piercing tenor (Anton Rositskiy) cut through the crowd. Serebrennikov targets the evil police satire. In the courageous operation of the large state opera machine, a lot gets hot and also turns empty. What the performance may be missing is a rhythmization of madness. A height of fall or a contrast medium to preventthat is all just high-speed background noise of madness.

Kovaljov is less of a satirical figure than a follower.

A lower rank cop who is thrown into a story that forces him to relate to the environment and the social situation.

Boris Pinkhasovich plays this relentlessly - with all vocal control.

What he can demand from his baritone, how he tirelessly moves around the fringes, how text and phrase formation are still possible, nobody is currently imitating him.

Much in this performance remains open, is an indication - and thus in the sense of a score that suppts across all borders.

The end is also foreshadowed, when Kovaljov returns to his tenement like after a bad dream.

To where a little girl is waiting for him, whom he invites in through the door.

Some things, the evening also says, you don't want to know exactly.

Internet broadcast

on October 27, 7 p.m., at staatsoper.tv.