Der Rosenkavalier Bolshoi theater contents. Strauss. Opera "Der Rosenkavalier" Farce over the abyss

For a true genius, the world is open in its entirety; the artist equally embodies both its terrible and beautiful faces, the sublime aspects of life and the base ones. That's exactly what he was. Its figurative range symphonic poems extends from philosophical ideas Friedrich Nietzsche's Uncontrollable Laughter. His operatic work turned out to be just as “universal”. The ugly face of the world was embodied in Elektra, but these gloomy and even scary operas were followed by the cheerful comedy Der Rosenkavalier - which we will tell you about.

The idea for the opera arose in 1909 - five years remained before the outbreak of the First World War, but clouds were already gathering over Europe. The alarming atmosphere of those years was aggravated by the emerging art of the avant-garde... Yes, it was true, yes, it ideally reflected the gloomy reality - but the human soul cannot be fed by the harsh truth of life alone! If the present does not provide a reason for joy, a person begins to look for it in the past - it is no coincidence that in the years preceding the First World War, productions of comedies by Moliere and Beaumarchais attracted full houses. Such sentiments could not be alien to Richard Strauss - and he creates an opera, focusing on the works of other composers of the 18th century.

Hugo von Hofmannsthal, who wrote the libretto of Electra, again becomes Strauss's co-author. The composer and librettist turned to the era of Empress Maria Theresa. According to Hofmannsthal, “all the characters appeared as if from underground and began to act.” The playwright didn’t even immediately come up with names for them - at first they were simply “a jester, an old man, a young girl, a lady,” in a word, generalized types of characters in a comic opera of the 18th century. And the librettist immediately calls only one of them by name - “Cherubino”. Of course, in the libretto of Strauss's opera, the hero received a different name - he became Octavian, but the similarity with Mozart's character is undeniable: he is young (so much so that he very convincingly manages to pretend to be a maid, dressed in a woman's dress), and most importantly, his heart is open to love. Like the role of Cherubino in Mozart, the role of Octavian is assigned to a woman.

The basis of the plot is as traditional as the types of characters - it was very aptly stated in a letter to Strauss by Hofmannsthal: “A fat, arrogant gentleman who is beginning to grow old, intending to marry and enjoying the favor of the father of the girl he likes, is supplanted by the young, beautiful man" But this simple motif is so embellished with all sorts of unexpected twists that the viewer does not notice how time flies (and this is the longest of Strauss’s operas - it lasts about four hours). There is also a motif in “Der Rosenkavalier” love triangle", but he does not bring much drama: Marshal is an aristocrat who is experiencing recent years of passing youth - from the very beginning she understands that her relationship with her young lover will soon come to an end, and in the finale she with great dignity gives in to his young rival, with whom he will be happily married.

What musical embodiment did the composer give to this light, cheerful plot? The opera truly sparkles with charming melodies - sometimes dreamy, sometimes light and “airy”. The cantilena alternates with a plastic recitative, the orchestral texture is relatively transparent. Refusing to unfold an “endless melody,” the composer encloses musical thoughts in the form of arias, duets, terzets and other traditional operatic forms; at the climactic moments, a choir or buffoon ensembles appear at a rapid pace. It seems that there were no decades of development of symphonized “musical drama”! Some moments - for example, the ceremony of presenting a silver rose to the bride - are reminiscent not even of Mozart’s time, but of the music of the Rococo era, and the aria of the tenor singer, who came to the Marshalsha along with other visitors, is in the spirit of the Old Italian canzone.

And yet, it is impossible to talk about a “return to the 18th century” in relation to “Der Rosenkavalier” - the composer deliberately allows for “musical anachronism.” The waltz becomes this “anachronism” - it is no coincidence that “Der Rosenkavalier” was given the nickname “waltz opera”.

The premiere of the opera “Der Rosenkavalier” took place in 1911. Critics reproached the composer for everything: diversity of style, verbosity, bad taste, and even “escape from modernity.” But the public appreciated the opera - the successful premiere of the opera was remembered by the composer’s contemporaries as “the last carefree theatrical triumph of Europe before the war.”

Subsequently, “Der Rosenkavalier” firmly took its place in the repertoire of various theaters. One can only regret that this charming work is little known to the Russian public: after the first production in Russia, carried out in 1928 by director Sergei Ernestovich Radlov in Leningrad, new production followed only in 2012 at the Bolshoi Theater.

Musical comedy in three acts; libretto by G. von Hofmannsthal.
First production: Dresden, Court Opera, 26 January 1911.

Characters:

marshal's wife (soprano), Baron Ocke (bass), Octavian (mezzo-soprano), Herr von Faninal (baritone), Sophie (soprano), Marianne (soprano), Valzacchi (tenor), Annina (contralto), Commissioner of Police (bass) , two butlers (tenors), notary (bass), guest (tenor), singer (tenor), three noble orphans (soprano, mezzo-soprano, contralto), milliner (soprano), animal dealer (tenor), footmen (two tenors and two basses), waiters (tenor and three basses), an erudite, a flutist, hairdressers, a noble widow, a black child, footmen, messengers, haiduks of the Hungarian Guard, kitchen staff, clients, musicians, two policemen, four children, various suspicious characters.

The action takes place in Vienna, during the early years of the reign of Maria Theresa (1740s).

Act one

Bedroom of the wife of Marshal Werdenberg. Count Octavian (a seventeen-year-old youth) kneels before the marshal, passionately declaring his love to her. Suddenly there is a noise outside. This is the marshal's cousin, Baron Ochs auf Lerchenau. She begs the count to run away (“Sei Er ganz still!”; “Hush! Don’t make noise”). Octavian barely has time to change into a maid's dress before the door swings open. Baron Ochs asks the princess to recommend him a young aristocrat, who, according to custom, should take a silver rose to Ochs's bride Sophie, the daughter of the rich man Faninal, who recently became a nobleman. In the meantime, the Baron pays attention to a maid, as it turns out, named Mariandl, who did not have time to hide, and whom he really likes. The princess recommends Octavian as a matchmaker. It's time to receive morning visitors. Among them are the adventurers Valzacchi and Annina. A noble widow and her three sons ask for help. While the flutist plays and the singer sings, the hairdresser combs the marshal's hair.

Left alone, the mistress of the house sadly looks at herself in the mirror, remembering her youth (“Kapp mich auch an ein Madel erinnern”; “Can I remember the girl?”). Octavian returns. He wants to console the sad beloved, but she avoids his embrace: time flies, and she knows that Octavian will soon leave her (“Die Zeit, die ist ein sonderbar" Ding”; “Time, this strange thing”). The young man does not want hear about this. But the princess asks him to leave. Remembering that she did not fulfill Ox’s instructions, she gives a silver rose with the black child for Octavian.

Act two

The living room in the Faninal house, where excitement reigns: they are waiting for the Knight of the Roses and then the groom. Octavian enters, dressed in a white and silver suit. He has a silver rose in his hand. Sophie is excited. Looking at the girl, the young count asks himself how he could live without her before (“Mir ist die Ehre wiederfahren”; “It is an honor for me”). Young people talking tenderly. But here comes the groom, Baron Ochs. He lavishes vulgar compliments on Sophie, sings an obscene song and completely disgusts the bride. Octavian and Sophie are left alone, the girl asks to help her: she does not want to marry the stupid baron. Young people embrace in a fit of love (“Mit ihren Augen voll Tranen”; “With eyes full of tears”). Valzacchi and Annina, who entered the service of Oxus, spy on them and call the master. The Baron pretends not to attach importance to what happened and asks Sophie to sign the marriage contract. Octavian throws insults at him, draws his sword and slightly wounds him in the arm. The Baron considers the wound fatal. Everyone is alarmed (“Ach Gott! Was wird denn jetzt gescheh"en”; “Oh God, what will happen now”), Faninal drives away the gentleman of roses and threatens to imprison Sophie in a monastery (“Sieht ihn nicht an...”; “There is no strength endure") The Baron lies down on the bed. The wine gives him strength, and even more - a note from Marshal Mariandl’s chambermaid: she makes an appointment for him.

Act three

A room in a hotel on the outskirts of Vienna. The baron's draw is being prepared. Valzacchi and Annina went into Octavian's service. He himself dressed up in a woman’s dress and pretends to be Mariandl, with five other suspicious characters with him. The Baron enters with his arm in a sling. He is in a hurry to be alone with the chambermaid (“Ach, lafi Sie schon einmal das fade Wort!”; “Ax, what nonsense”). Octavian, in disguise, feigns excitement and shyness. His companions, hidden in the room, periodically appear in dark corners, frightening the baron. Suddenly a lady in mourning (Annina) enters with four children who rush to him shouting “daddy, daddy”, the lady calls him her husband. At this moment, Faninal and Sophie appear, summoned by Octavian. The room fills with hotel staff, musicians and various rabble. Octavian discreetly changes into men's clothing. Everything is becoming clearer. But then a new circumstance arises: the marshal’s wife arrives. The Baron leaves (“Mit dieser Stund vorbei”; “No more meaning stay"), the others disperse behind him. The princess advises Octavian to follow the dictates of his heart. All three are excited (trio “Hab"mir"s gelobt”; “I vowed to love him”).

G. Marchesi (translated by E. Greceanii)

Der Rosenkavalier / Der Rosenkavalier (Der Rosenkavalier) - a comedy based on music by R. Strauss in 3 scenes, libretto by G. von Hofmannsthal. Premiere: Dresden, January 26, 1911, conducted by E. Schuch; on the Russian stage - Leningrad, Opera and Ballet Theater, November 24, 1928, under the direction of V. Dranishnikov, director S. Radlov, artist G. Yakunin (R. Izgur - Marshalsha, S. Preobrazhenskaya - Octavian, P. Zhuravlenke - Oke , R. Gorskaya - Sophie).

The creation of the opera meant Strauss' turn towards Mozart. In "Der Rosenkavalier" they opened up best sides the composer's talent, and above all the ability to convey the joy of life, youth, and love.

The action takes place in the 18th century. in Vienna. If the librettist strived for elegant stylization, the composer managed to democratize the images. Strauss deliberately allowed anachronisms, combining melody characteristic of the old time (scene of offering a rose, canzonetta Italian singer), with waltzes representing not even the 19th, but the 20th century. This is an opera about the past, written by a composer of a new era.

The plot is simple. Young Octavian, Count Rofrano (his part was written for female voice- but not only this makes one remember Mozart’s Cherubino), in love with the beautiful Marshal, Princess Werdenberg. She also loves the young man, but understands that their relationship is short-lived. In the morning, her cousin, the stupid and dissolute Baron Ochs (in German - bull, simpleton) comes to visit the Marshal. Octavian is forced to dress in a woman's dress and play the role of the maid Mariandl. Ox is courting the beauty. However, a more important matter brought him to his cousin. He is going to marry the daughter of a wealthy bourgeois, Faninal, who has recently acquired nobility. Custom requires that the matchmaker presenting the bride with a silver rose (hence the title of the opera, incorrectly translated as “Der Rosenkavalier”) must be a young man of aristocratic origin. The marshal's wife names Octavian as "Der Rosenkavalier". The Baron agrees. The marshal's wife receives visitors and petitioners - a milliner, a merchant, a hairdresser, a singer, and the intriguers Valzacchi and Annina. After they leave, she cannot overcome sadness: separation from Octavian is inevitable. Following the departed young man, the Marshal sends a silver rose, which he must give to the baron's bride Sophie. Having met, Octavian and Sophie fall in love with each other. Ox's insolent behavior offends Sophie and intensifies her feelings for the young man. The intriguers Valzacchi and Annina rush to inform the baron about the bride’s behavior. Ox tries to force Sophie to sign a prenuptial agreement. Octavian comes to the girl’s defense and easily wounds the baron. He makes a terrible noise, calls the police, but calms down after receiving from the hands of Annina, bribed by Octavian, a letter from the imaginary Mariandl, who makes an appointment for him at the hotel. He anticipates a love affair. Meanwhile, Octavian, again dressed in a woman's dress, with the help of Valzacchi and Annina, prepares to disgrace Oxus. The Baron tries to court Mariandl, although he is confused by the girl's amazing resemblance to Octavian. The date is interrupted by unexpected visitors: Annina plays the role of the baron’s abandoned wife, accompanied by a bunch of his imaginary children. The owner of the hotel also reproaches the baron. Oke calls the police for help, but he is accused of adultery. Summoned by Octavian, Faninal is outraged by the behavior of his future son-in-law. His indignation intensifies when he learns that the baron, wanting to justify himself in the eyes of the police, said that Sophie had arranged a date for him. Sophie and Marshall appear. The ashamed baron is driven away. The Marshal yields her lover to Sophie and blesses their union.

Strauss's score is full of elegance, grace, inspired lyricism, humor, and drama. What Hofmannsthal has a grotesque character is poeticized in music. “Der Rosenkavalier” is not a restoration of Mozart’s manner, but a free implementation of traditions. Octavian has many features in common with Cherubino, and in Marshalypa one can feel family connection with the Countess from The Marriage of Figaro. As the action develops, the images of both heroes become spiritualized. Octavian's love purifies him, and the Marshalsha is transformed in the same way in the finale, renouncing Octavian in the name of his happiness. Der Rosenkavalier also contains elements of a parody of Wagner's musical drama: in the opening scene of the 1st century (Octavian and the Marshal), the ecstatic love scene from Tristan and Isolde (II century) is clearly meant.

In terms of richness and generosity of melody, brightness of colors, expressiveness of images, and mastery, Strauss's opera is one of the highest achievements musical theater. She captivates with inspired, poetic music and subtle stylization of the gallant era. Hence its success among viewers of various social groups. The Dresden premiere (staged by M. Reinhardt) was a triumphant success. Following Dresden, the opera was staged the same year in Munich, Frankfurt am Main, Berlin, Milan, Prague, Vienna, Budapest, and in 1913 in New York and other cities. Its best performers: E. Schwarzkopf and K. Te Kanawa (Marshalsha), K. Ludwig and B. Fassbönder (Octavian), D. Fischer-Dieskau (Faninal), A. Kipnis, O. Edelman and V. Berry (Baron Ox ), conductor G. Karayan. In 1960, director P. Zinner captured on film a magnificent performance at the Salzburg Festival (E. Schwarzkopf - Marshalsha). The troupe performed an outstanding production under the direction of K. Böhm on tour in Moscow in 1971 Vienna Opera. The last production was performed at the Salzburg Festival in 2004 (conductor S. Bychkov, director R. Carsen; A. Pechonka - Marshalsha).

http://belcanto.ru/12041201.html

The most Viennese and most feminine opera by R. Strauss, Der Rosenkavalier is a work as much frivolous in form, how deep in content: dozens of parodic reminiscences, quotes and collisions that make up literary and musical the fabric of this masterpiece, in the playful manner of a carnival farce favored by R. Strauss, entering into emotional opposition to the meanings that they themselves express, seriously impede the perception of the main idea of this work by listeners far from cultural context, in which this opera was created.

At first glance, the “sham” conflict of form and content, which R. Strauss subsequently used as the main artistic device and in the famous "Capriccio" (and in places traces of this imbalance are easily detected in both “Salome” and “Woman without a Shadow”), seems deliberate, but its kitschy component is just an illusion: despite all its eclectic diversity and elaborate orchestration, the music of “Cavalier” is ideologically transparent not only in meaning and plot-forming climactic moments, but also in the characteristics of the main characters, intertwined in a baroque lace of a unique psychological composition. The absence of clear colors and monosyllabic answers is a natural sign of any serious work of art, but the exquisite veil with which R. Strauss and H. Hofmannsthal paint the images of their heroes amazes with its realistic sophistication. Of the key characters in the opera, only Faninal (well, and the “uncle and niece” couple - Valzacchi and Annina) cannot claim the role of its main character: the remaining characters are not only in terms of the volume of their vocal presence on stage, but also in their significance for the ultimate task of the work can easily be considered central.

Baron Ochs, after whom the composer, with the support of one of the authors of the idea, G. Kessler, wanted to name the opera, is not just an aging Don Juan who does not accept the refinements of the gallant age: in musical characteristics This image we hear several times meditative self-irony, closely related to the disappointment accumulated over for many years red tape. The inappropriateness of a purely comic interpretation of this image for anyone thoughtfully listening to the music of R. Strauss is as obvious as the exaltation of the magnanimous self-denial of Field Marshal Werdenberg.

The image of the Field Marshal is considered by many to be central, but beyond the juxtaposition with Baron Ochs, who is more often seen as the antagonist of the Marshal than as her “double,” this character easily slides into the area of cliché stiltedness, while his versatility is difficult to overestimate. An aging woman, abandoned by her husband, is tormented by the realization of the injustice of her own decline, gets up at night to stop all the clocks in the house and somehow slow down the passage of time, which is mercilessly robbing her of the opportunity to be happy... The monologue “Die Zeit” is one of the foundations for understanding the main idea operas: time is the most irreplaceable resource of a person, which is spent regardless of whether we want to spend it or not. The banality of this “revelation” does not detract from its philosophical depth, because time, which men are trying to resist (the loving omnivorousness of Baron Ochs and the romantic intemperance of Octavian also form an obvious moral, ethical, and philosophical opposition to each other), forces women to come to terms with the inevitability of the obvious , and the wisdom they acquire is akin to hopelessness, which for some reason is so obsessively interpreted as generosity.

We must not forget that the Field Marshal abandons her seventeen-year-old lover, not only losing the joy of mutual feelings, but also freeing herself from her own fears. The very possibility of her husband’s sudden return (due to the carnival “delicacy” of the authors, we never find out what happened during one of these sudden visits of the Field Marshal: the episode that took place in the biography of a “widow with a living husband” sounds only a hint) makes her paranoidly suspicious , but she experiences real awe only from the inexorability of time, every morning contemplating it in her own reflection: “Time is such a strange thing: at first we don’t notice it, then we don’t notice anything except it...” - the princess says in the famous monologue . The elegance and nobility with which she accepts the inevitability of the loss of her own attractiveness does not negate the obvious fact that the lady is actually “not sixteen” anymore, and Octavian is definitely not her first lover. That is, the Field Marshal, by and large, is simply tired, and her words about total disappointment in men clearly clarify what exactly the princess is tired of.

This opposition between male ridiculous self-confidence, expressed in “ageless” sexual prowess, and female sobriety in relation to one’s own physiological resources, one way or another arises in R. Strauss in almost every opera, all the more indicative in this regard is the vocally androgynous image of the Field Marshal’s young lover - Kenken Octavian (Der Rosenkavalier). Generally speaking, for the fact that Hofmannsthal insisted on precisely the title of the opera under which Der Rosenkavalier became the property of world culture, the author of the libretto deserves the Order of Maria Theresa, for it is precisely this image of a man - the image of a man performed by a woman portraying a man portraying a woman , - the quintessence of overcoming sexual boundaries in the Human, going beyond the dictates of sexuality, the infernal irresistibility of which still offends moralists in Strauss’s “Salome” (from these parallels sometimes one gets the feeling that “Der Rosenkavalier” is R. Strauss’s artistic “justification” for his brightest and most provocative opera about “fatal attraction”). In this regard, it would not be superfluous to pay attention to the fact that the action of the opera takes place in Vienna during the time of Empress Maria Theresa (for a moment, namesake main character!), who, as is known, first fiercely defended the right to occupy an exclusively male imperial position before her political neighbors, and then, while remaining a caring wife and mother of sixteen (!) children, showed miracles of statesmanship, based, according to contemporaries, on an exclusively female intuition. It is no coincidence that this image of a woman in a male role appears in the historical context precisely in connection with Der Rosenkavalier. Not overcoming, but reunification, not conflict, but harmonization, not resistance, but cooperation between masculine and feminine structurally permeate the image of Octavian, because even his conflict with Baron Ox is provoked by Sophie’s passivity (“female indecision”) and the baron’s aggressiveness (“rude impudence”). Octavian is always “between” (in der Mitten steht): between the Field Marshal and the Field Marshal, between Sophie and her father - Faninal, - between the Baron and Sophie, between Sophie and the Field Marshal, and even between the Baron and the object of his comic desire - the mystical Mariandl, in which Octavian disguises. This “media quality” of the image of Octavian - as an artificial, hermaphroditic, speculative construction - is the main key to the general concept of "Der Rosenkavalier". At least the “Der Rosenkavalier” that Hofmannsthal wrote.

In this regard, the image of Sophie may seem somewhat auxiliary and, perhaps, even forced (well, someone must become an instrument to justify the Field Marshal’s fears!). However, Sophie’s value for the overall dramaturgy of the opera is by no means episodic, and the point is not in the musical indispensability of the light soprano in the luxurious “female” trio of the third act and the final duet. To understand the dramatic load of Sophie’s image, it is enough to remember her phrase in that same trio: “sie gibt mir ihn und nimmt mir was von ihn zugleich” (“She gives him to me, but it’s as if she’s taking some part of him from me”). Sophie as the “protagonical” double of the Field Marshal, like, by the way, the image of Baron Ochs, highlights the moral and ethical ambiguity of the image of Princess Werdenberg, its volume and peculiar tragedy: to some extent, the Field Marshal humiliates Sophie with her noble gesture (they almost sound mockingly all Marie-Therese’s remarks to her “rival”, starting with “Did you fall in love with him so quickly?” and ending with the harsh: “Too many words for such a beauty”), for generosity is one of the favorite masks of indifference, which is nothing. other than natural defensive reaction resigned to the inevitability of aging. At the same time, Sophie, like a jack-in-the-box, appears for some reason precisely when the Field Marshal is thinking about the frailty of all things and the inevitability of the end of her romance with Octavian, with whom, in turn, she is playing a double game in some way: what is it worth? only the phrase “Now I still have to console the boy, who sooner or later will leave me with nothing,” which raises a completely logical question: “What did you want, madam? Do you have a choice? The fact is that the Field Marshal herself cannot offer Octavian anything other than her feelings, seasoned with incessant fears and progressive paranoia due to her fading youth, she cannot: no position in society, no family happiness, no domestic comfort!.. So without Sophie, all these the meanings seem to be lost, and for some reason we feel such aching pain towards the “abandoned” woman and such guilty irritation towards her young rival that we forget to ask ourselves the question: who, in fact, is to blame? Is it not the Field Marshal herself who “appoints” her lover as the gentleman of the rose, literally pushing him into Sophie’s arms? Is it not the Field Marshal herself, obeying her paranoid fears, who pushes Octavian away from herself, “prophesying” (= programming!) his future betrayal? It seems to me that Freudian Vienna at the beginning of the last century read all these hidden touches and half-hints much more easily and simply than modern listeners who perceive Der Rosenkavalier as a melodramatic epic in which, as in a commedia dell'arte, all the roles have long been distributed and placed all the accents...

Stephen Lawless's concept, presented on the main stage of the Bolshoi Theater, deserves the deepest respect because the English director, in his production, made a fantastically risky attempt to emphasize almost all the key meanings of "Cavalier" at once: here is the rapid change of eras, dissolved in the music itself ( waltzes appear in the score of R. Strauss just in the second act, which Lawless transfers from the 18th to the 19th centuries), and metatemporal quotations in the architectural masterpieces of the Viennese Jugendstil (semicircular “backdrop”), and a costumed panopticon, including, in addition to a ballet couple and an Italian tenor, whose role is either lyrically-illustrative or comic-parody (in any case, the material he voices is easily perceived either way), - two hairdressers (instead of one Hippolytus “according to the text”), in whom one can unmistakably read exquisite mannerism, which has become an obsessive calling card of the homosexual subculture, here is a giant canopy bed topped with a golden laurel ball of the Vienna Secession, as a symbol of the sexual fusion of masculine and feminine principles... The number of allusions and symbols simultaneously present in the costumes and mise-en-scène is simply phenomenal! Just look at the imperceptible transformation of the Field Marshal’s bed into a stage stage, and the significant appearance in the same interior of a lonely little double bed in the finale (as one of my friends who watched the play rightly noted, this “mirror” mise-en-scène rings the performance when the main character - a lover appears in bed with one woman, and disappears in bed with another - a fairly laconic and straightforward justification for all the Field Marshal’s fears and devastated disappointment in men). At the same time, behind the unmistakably competent conceptual symbolism, here and there all sorts of visual absurdities slip through, associated, as always, with the mise-en-scène not matching the text of the libretto. So, for some reason, the “wounded” baron, sitting in a wheelchair, sings “Da lieg"ich” (“Here I lie...”), and Mariandl-Octavian, pointing to the gurney in the “Chamber of Horrors” attraction, where the first part takes place Act III, for some reason calls it “Bett” (bed) and similar “blunders” that conflict with common sense, but never with a sense of good taste, which cannot be denied to the creators of the play (except perhaps the mention of the empress, to whom he is supposedly going to complain the abandoned wife of Baron Ochs sounds like a rough anachronism in the surroundings of the early 20th century: Empress Elizabeth of Bavaria (Sissi), to whom the offended lady could theoretically appeal, died in 1898).

The elegance of more than two hundred costumes is not tacky or flashy, despite its parody, and the illustrative dialogue of color schemes is simply mesmerizing in places: for example, in the first act, Octavian’s blue uniform echoes the Field Marshal’s blue crinoline, and in the second, Octavian’s silver camisole echoes Sophie’s silver dress . The Marshalsha's strict dress in the second part of the third act also has a silver cast - like a withered silver rose, she disappears together with Sophie's father either in the doorway or in the window opening (the interior simplicity of Benoit Dugardin's set design, which uses not only well-known fragments of the decor of the famous Otto Wagner, but also the design ideas of Jürgen Rose for Otto Schenk’s production at the Bavarian State Opera, amazes the imagination with its functional richness). Costume reminiscences affected not only easily recognizable opera characters (Animal Seller in a Papageno costume), but also iconic artifacts of the Vienna Museum of Art History (a vegetable mask of a cook, as if straight from the canvases of Giuseppe Arcimboldo), and the appearance in the finale of Act II of a statue of Johann Strauss from the Vienna City Hall The parka becomes a double barcode of both the eclecticism of the “Cavalier” score and the composer’s own self-irony, who always admired the simple beauty of the music of his namesake...

And yet, despite the successful attempt to dissect the inexhaustible layers of the semantic palette of “Der Rosenkavalier”, the main achievement of the production should still be recognized as the musical side of the performance. Although the sound of the Bolshoi Theater orchestra was distinguished by rough dynamic accents and a general impudence of climaxes (the percussion was especially frantic), in the most complex lacy passages that abound in the score of “Cavalier”, the Bolshoi instrumental ensemble sounded with indescribable sophistication and a sense of style. Minor inter-group differences and harsh inlays of “small” wind instruments hurt my ears in places, but overall the feeling of fluency in the material and the high-quality preparatory work done by the musicians never left me.

From a vocal point of view, both compositions had their undeniable merits, however, giving the palm to the premier team of soloists is literally forced by the sky-high level of performing quality of the invited singers.

Melanie Diener, who performed the role of the Field Marshal, has a noble timbre, the purest midrange, impeccable sound engineering and intonation, and the slightly rough but stable piano is the only drawback of her almost perfect vocals. To be honest, with such an impeccable technique, inspired by expressive emotionality, the acting tension seems unnecessary, and Diener practically does not act: the singer solves all the dramatically complex tasks of this difficult role through her fantastic vocals.

Anna Stefani, who performed in the musically vast travesty role of Octavian, captivated with her warm, “rounded” sound of a soft creamy timbre, distinguished by some kind of polysaturated overtone viscosity. The singer’s free sound production, rounded completeness of phrases, and incredible endurance were simply amazing. In artistic terms, Stephanie’s image seemed to me more restrained and intense and a little less convincing (besides, in the finale, for some reason, the singer does not change into an elegant black tailcoat, but remains in the same uniform in which she appears in Act I) than Alexandra’s Kadurina, who performed in the second cast, but Stephanie’s vocal work was beyond praise.

Stephen Richardson in the role of Baron Ochs auf Lerchenau pleased me with the perfect fit into the character: with such subtlety, self-irony and artistic delicacy, which was in no way expected in this role, no one has performed Baron Ochs in my memory. Richardson's Ox is not a redneck lout, presumptuous from his own impunity, but a simple guy, a sincere egoist, all of whose self-satisfaction is easily expressed in the simple cynicism of the popular “if you don’t praise yourself, no one will praise you.” His image is that of a lonely man who wasted his youth searching for himself within the framework of the pleasures available to him. But pleasures, without losing their physiological attractiveness, deprive the baron of his emotional purity: he is rude not by nature, but by acquired life experience, which did not bring the baron either genuine joy or genuine happiness, and in this reading Ox evokes sincere sympathy. Vocally, this part requires convincing melodic recitation and voluminous breathing in places, and, possessing these qualities, Richardson easily copes with musically Baron, leaving in memory the sound of his bass rich in dramatic shades.

At the performance I attended, the performer of the role of Faninal, Sir Thomas Allen, was greeted by applause from the audience. The slightly worn, but still rich timbre fit perfectly into the lively, dramatically convincing image created by the singer. His Faninal is not as vainly comic as the hero of Michael Kupfer, who played this role in the second cast: he feels paternal care, prudent sanity (especially in the risky scene with breaking an incredible amount of dishes) and emotional organicity.

For Lyubov Petrova, the image of Sophie became a kind of springboard for demonstrating her remarkable vocal and stage resources. At first, Petrova’s voice seems intimate, and the too bright “mature” tremolo makes it difficult to concentrate on the fragility of the image itself. The singer does not quite easily, but absolutely correctly, “pull out” the difficult portamento in the scene of the presentation of the rose, luxurious in melodic richness, but the ultrasonic, barely distinguishable highs at first caused concern for the two key final ensembles. Meanwhile, already in a duet with Octavian, Petrova sings, her voice opens up, all the roughness and imperfections disappear, and we hear a wonderful round “crystal”, an ideal focus, transforming into the phenomenally beautiful top notes of the final duet. In dramatic terms, although the singer overacts in places, the overall image looks more than convincing and, most importantly, surprisingly sincere.

In the second lineup, the central duet of Field Marshal and Octavian was most successful: the monolithic flawlessness of Ekaterina Godovanets’ vocals, distinguished by free sound management, silk cantilena, tight focusing and timbral beauty, was ideally combined with the naive “fragility” of Alexandra Kadurina’s voice. It is in Godovanets’ performance that the Field Marshal is seen as a woman who is truly tired, tired of everything temporary and transitory. Her emotional stoicism seems to protest against everything unsteady and momentary, and this reading of the image seems to be one of the most sublime, as if devoid of the slightest hint of selfish intentions. Godovanets even voices the quotable phrase addressed to his hairdresser with melancholy dignity: it is pointless to blame a simple barber for the victories of Time... A very strong image.

Kadurina’s Octavian was perhaps not as musically flawless as Anna Stefani’s, but dramatically more convincing: the singer brilliantly transforms into “foreign” plasticity, easily adds a wheezing hoarseness to her vocals and feels confident in a man’s outfit. Bright fortes, wonderful phrasing, flowing sound without impurities, despite some technical roughness in intonation, left the most enthusiastic impression.

Alina Yarovaya generally copes with musical material Sophie's parts, but noticeable entries and uneven sound production interfere with a comfortable perception of her work. In ensembles, the singer sounds excellent, and, to my taste, she plays even a little more subtle and cultured than Lyubov Petrova.

Michael Kupfer in the role of Faninal seemed technically pale to me, although the timbre of the singer is incredibly beautiful. Despite his representative appearance, on stage the artist behaved insecurely and even ridiculously, but on the whole not criminally.

Manfred Hemm's Baron Ochs turned out to be interesting in his own way: the singer's rough, deep timbre seemed to provoke the creation of an almost infernally negative image of a smug idiot, devoid of even a hint of empathy. In the melodic parts Hemm was convincing, although he was constantly at odds with the orchestra, and in the vocal parts of the part he was technically satisfactory.

Already after the first orchestral rehearsals, which I had the opportunity to attend, it was clear that the Bolshoi Theater had made an incredible qualitative breakthrough, brilliantly coping with one of the most complex operas of the 20th century, both scenically and musically. Unlike “Wozzeck,” the instrumental merits of which, frankly, can only be appreciated by fans of the New Vienna school, “Der Rosenkavalier” is a work addressed to the mass listener: its apparent protractedness seems to dissolve in philosophical depth monologues and the divine beauty of the ensembles, listening and pondering which, you don’t notice how almost four hours of performance of this large-scale score fly by. And, of course, this performance was an absolute success for the production team, because the Bolshoi Theater had not seen such a harmonious, colorful and integral performance, stirring minds and exciting hearts for many years. It would be nice if this premiere was the beginning new tradition high-quality work of the talented theater team, which is destined by fate itself to be the home of real art, and not stupid, annoying experiments.

Based on a libretto (in German) by Hugo von Hofmannsthal.

CHARACTERS:

PRINCESS OF WERDENBERG, Marshal (soprano)
BARON OX AUF LERCHENAU (bass)
OCTAVIAN, her lover (mezzo-soprano)
MR VON FANINAL, rich new nobleman (baritone)
SOPHIE, his daughter (soprano)
MARIANNA, her duenna (soprano)
WALZACCHI, Italian intriguer (tenor)
ANNINA, his accomplice (contralto) POLICE COMMISSIONER (bass)
MAJORDO MARSHALS (tenor)
MAJORDO FANINAL (tenor)
NOTARY (bass)
HOTEL KEEPER (tenor)
SINGER (tenor)
FLUTIST (silent role)
HAIRDRESSER (silent role)
SCIENTIST (silent role)
THE NOBLE WIDOW MAHOMET, page (silent role)
THREE NOBLE ORPHANS: soprano, mezzo-soprano, contralto
Milliner (soprano)
ANIMAL SELLER (tenor)

Duration: mid-18th century century.
Location: Vienna.
First performance: Dresden, January 26, 1911.

There is a funny story about Der Rosenkavalier and the author of this opera - a story that, as the Italians say, si non e vero, e ben trovato (Italian - if it is not true, it is well invented). The opera was staged in 1911. And a few years later, the composer himself - and this was for him for the first time - conducted its performance. In the last act, he leaned over to the violin accompanist and whispered in his ear (without interrupting the performance): “This is terribly long, isn’t it?” “But, maestro,” the accompanist objected, “you wrote it that way yourself.” “I know,” Strauss said sadly, “but I never imagined that I would have to conduct this myself.”

The complete, uncut version of the opera, not counting intermissions, lasts almost four hours. But the most striking thing is that the light comedic character is invariably preserved throughout the entire action of the opera. It is also surprising that, despite such a long performance, this opera became the most popular of all Richard Strauss's operas. It forms the basis of the repertoire of all great opera houses in England, the United States of America and Central Europe(in Latin countries it received a somewhat less enthusiastic reception); and together with Wagner's Die Meistersinger it is considered the best comic opera, born on German soil after Mozart. Like "Die Meistersinger" - there are such random coincidences, - at first she was conceived as quite short work, but the composer was so carried away by the idea of creating a full-scale portrait of a certain phase in social history that in the process of work he went into unusual detail. No one who loves this work will refuse any of these details.

ACT I

One of those “details” that librettist Hugo von Hofmannsthal did not initially attach of great importance, turned into the main character of the work. This is Princess von Werdenberg, the wife of the field marshal, and therefore she is called Marshal. Strauss and Hofmannsthal conceived her as a very attractive young woman in her thirties (on stage, unfortunately, she is often performed by overripe sopranos). When the curtain rises, we see the princess's room. Early morning. In the absence of her husband, who has gone hunting, the hostess listens to the love confessions of her current young lover. This is an aristocrat named Octavian; he's only seventeen. The marshal is still in bed. Their farewell is full of pathos, since the princess realizes that the difference in their ages must inevitably put an end to their relationship.

The voice of Baron Ochs auf Lerchenau is heard. This is the princess's cousin, rather stupid and rude. No one was waiting for him, and before he bursts into the room, Octavian manages to put on a maid's dress. Since his part was written for a very light soprano (Hofmannsthal had in mind Geraldine Ferrar or Maria Garden), Ox is misled: he takes Octavian for a maid and tries to woo her throughout the entire scene. In essence, he came to ask his cousin (Marshal) to recommend him a noble aristocrat as a matchmaker (Knight (Cavalier) of the Rose) to fulfill traditional custom, that is, to hand over a silver rose to his bride, who turns out to be Sophie, the daughter of the wealthy nouveau riche von Faninal. Ox also needs a notary, and his famous cousin invites him to wait, because her own notary, whom she called to her in the morning, is about to appear here, and then the cousin will be able to use him.

The Marshall's begins receiving visitors. Not only a notary comes, but also a hairdresser, a widow from a noble family with large offspring, a French milliner, a monkey dealer, the nosy Italians Valzacchi and Annina, an Italian tenor and many other strange characters - they all want something from the Marshal. The tenor shows off his mellifluous voice in a lovely Italian aria, which at its climax is interrupted by Baron Ochs' loud discussion with the notary about the dowry.

Finally, the Marshal is left alone again and in “Aria with a Mirror” (“Kann mich auch an ein Miidel erinnern” - “Can I remember the girl?”) she sadly reflects on what changes for the worse have occurred in her since then how she was a young blooming girl like Sophie von Faninal. The return of Octavian, this time dressed for riding, does not change her sad, nostalgic mood. He convinces her of his eternal devotion, but the Marshal knows better how it will all turn out (“Die Zeit, die ist ein sonderbar" Ding” - “Time, this strange thing”). She says that soon everything will have to end. And With these words he sends Octavian away. Perhaps she will see him later today, while riding in the park, or maybe not, Octavian leaves. Suddenly she remembers: he didn’t even kiss her goodbye. But it’s too late: the door is behind him. She’s already slammed shut. She’s very sad, but she’s a smart woman.

ACT II

The second act takes us to von Faninal's house. He and his maid Marianne are delighted at the prospect of his daughter marrying an aristocrat, but his reputation may suffer. Today is the day when Octavian is expected to bring a silver rose on behalf of Baron Oxus. And soon after the action begins, a formal ceremony takes place. This is one of the most beautiful episodes of the opera. Octavian is dressed unusually magnificently, according to the circumstances - in a white and silver suit. In his hand is a silver rose. He and Sophie suddenly fall in love at first sight. Looking at the girl, the young count asks himself the question: how could he live without her before (“Mir ist die Ehre wiederfahren” - “This is an honor for me”). Soon the groom himself arrives - Baron Ochs with his retinue. His behavior is really very rude. He tries to hug and kiss his bride, but every time she manages to dodge him. This only amuses the old rake. He goes into another room to discuss the terms of the marriage contract with his future father-in-law. He is so self-confident that he even advises that Octavian should teach Sophie a thing or two about love while he is away. This training has not progressed much when they are suddenly interrupted by angry servants. It turns out that the baron’s people, who came with their master, tried to flirt with von Faninal’s maids, who did not like all this at all.

Octavian and Sophie have a very serious conversation, because they both know that the Baron intends to marry Sophie, which is completely impossible for her. Meanwhile, as both of them become more and more carried away by each other, completely losing their heads, Octavian promises to save Sophie. In a fit of emotion, they hug (“Mit ihren Augen voll Tranen” - “With eyes full of tears”). Two Italians who we met in passing in the first act - Valzacchi and Annina - suddenly appear from behind a decorative stove just at the moment when the lovers passionately embrace; they see it all. They loudly call on Baron Ochs, hoping that he will reward them for espionage (they, after all, entered his service). A very colorful and hectic scene follows. Sophie categorically refuses to marry Ox; Oks is amazed at this turn of events; Faninal and his housekeeper demand that Sophie marry, and Octavian becomes increasingly angry. In the end, Octavian throws an insult at the baron, grabs his sword and rushes at him. The Baron, in a panic, calls his servants for help. He is slightly wounded in the arm, is terribly frightened by this and loudly demands a doctor to come to him. The doctor who appears states that the wound is trivial.

Finally the baron is left alone. First he thinks about death, then he seeks solace in wine and gradually forgets about all his misfortunes, especially when he discovers a note signed “Mariandle”. This, he thinks, is the servant girl whom he met in the first act in the Marshalsha's house; This note confirms the date of the meeting. "Mariandle" is none other than Octavian himself, who sent her to Oxus out of mischief. Meanwhile, the news that he has so definitely been assigned a date with new girl, encourages the baron. With this thought - not to mention the wine he has drunk - he hums a waltz. Some fragments of this famous waltz from Der Rosenkavalier had already slipped through during the action, but now, at the end of the second act, it sounds in all its splendor.

ACT III

Two of the baron's servants - Valzacchi and Annina - are making some mysterious preparations. The Baron did not pay them properly, and now they have gone into the service of Octavian, overseeing the preparations of the chambre separee (French - separate chambers) in a hotel somewhere on the outskirts of Vienna. The apartment has a bedroom. The Baron is supposed to come here on a date with Mariandl (that is, Octavian in disguise), and a terrible surprise is being prepared for him. There are two windows in the room, they suddenly swing open, strange heads appear in them, a rope ladder and a lot of all kinds of devilry, which is why the old man, according to the plans of his enemies, should completely lose his mind.

And finally the baron himself appears here. At first, everything seems to start out quite well. A Viennese waltz plays offstage, and Mariandl (Octavian) feigns excitement and shyness. Soon something strange begins to happen. The doors swing open, and - as planned - Annina bursts into the room in disguise with four children. She declares that the Baron is her husband, and the children address him by calling him "Dad". In complete confusion, the Baron calls the police, and Octavian, in disguise, quietly sends Valzacchi for Faninal. The police commissioner appears. The pathetic baron does not make any impression on him, and besides, the baron managed to lose his wig somewhere. Faninal arrives next; he is shocked by the behavior of his future son-in-law, who finds himself in the same room with a stranger. Sophie is also here; With her arrival, the scandal grows even more. The latter is the Marshal in all her dignity; she sternly reprimands her relative.

Finally, morally completely broken, and also under the threat of paying a huge bill for the party, Oks, happy to finally get rid of this whole nightmare, leaves (“Mit dieser Stund vorbei” - “There is no more point in staying”). The others follow him. This is where the denouement and climax of the opera comes.

In a wonderful terzetto, Marshalsha finally gives up her ex-lover, Octavian, and gives it - sadly, but with dignity and grace - to his young charming rival, Sophie (“Hab" mir "s gelobt" - “I vowed to love him”). Then she leaves them alone, and the final love duet is interrupted only for a short moment when the Marshal brings Faninal back to say parting words to the young.

“This is a dream... it can hardly be true... but let it continue forever.” This last words, which are pronounced by young lovers, but the opera does not end there. As they move away, a little black page, Mohammed, runs in. He finds the handkerchief that Sophie dropped, picks it up and quickly disappears.

Henry W. Simon (translated by A. Maikapara)

In one of Hofmannsthal’s letters to Strauss (dated February 11, 1909) we find the following joyful message: “During three quiet days I completely completed a very lively libretto for a semi-serious opera with brightly comic figures and situations, colorful, almost transparent action, in which there is an occasion for poetry, jokes, humor and even a little dancing.” The opera takes place at the height of the 18th century (the resurrection of the era is similar to what takes place in Mozart’s “The Marriage of Figaro”, according to the same Hofmannsthal). But in Strauss’s music, the recreation of historical settings is dominated by the recreation of things much more attractive from a musical point of view: rationally ordered feelings and passions, a sense of life balance, happiness, light humor even in the most delicate situations - features that distinguished the refined society of that time, the current against the folk background, merging with it and therefore integral. These qualities seemed irretrievably lost in Electra and Salome, with their fiery but tragic plots, where passion was tantamount to death.

The flow of events in Der Rosenkavalier is based on the form of dance of the 19th century, the waltz, which becomes an element of the stylistic unity of the entire opera - a deeply European opera, in the spirit of that old Europe, which approached the threshold of the First World War unscathed: this is Europe, of course, of the lucky few, where, in spite of everything, the joy of life still remains, even in the midst of empty decency and ostentatious gallantry. Here we have entertainment in its purest form, the sensuality of brilliant eroticism, immersion in sweet pristine nature, playful comedy and at the same time magic. The latter is personified by the rose, which exalts youth (the future) in a kind of congratulatory ritual. The chords of flutes, solo violins, celestas and harps produce a crystal sound, like a light, weightless silver fabric, flowing magical light that has no equal.

In the final trio, when all action is interrupted, the charm takes on a lyrical character: Strauss takes the characters' speech beyond the limits of comedy by purely musical means, without which the text itself could not convey this interweaving of silent questions. The thoughts and feelings of the three characters merge, and if the words separate them, depicting hesitation and confusion, then the musical fabric unites them, representing an amazing combination of harmonies. The parties of heroes, each dedicated to the riddle of life, are reconciled in a kind of higher contemplation, although they remain unanswered. The Marshal and Octavian reflect on the fate of love, its birth and death, while Sophie tries in vain to unravel human nature. Their questions hang in the air, because inconsistency is the law of life. Modulations, collisions and rhythmic discord, chromaticisms and complex paths of development transform into an emotionally intense crescendo, remaining parallel and not intersecting at one point. The mystery of human relationships remains unsolved.

G. Marchesi (translated by E. Greceanii)

“Der Rosenkavalier” is the pinnacle of R. Strauss’s work. Permeated with the intonations of Austrian everyday music, with witty intrigue, the opera immediately won success with the public. The language of the opera is, at the same time, very modern. Therefore, it is not perceived as some kind of stylization. The Russian premiere took place in 1928 in Leningrad ( Mariinsky Theater) p/u Dranishnikov. The final terzetto belongs to the best pages of the composer's work. An outstanding recording of the opera was made by Karajan.

Discography: CD - EMI. Dir. Karajan, Marshall (Schwarzkopf), Octavian (Ludwig), Baron Ochs (Edelman), Sophie (Stich-Randall), Faninal (Wächter), Italian tenor (Hedda) - Sony. Dir. Bernstein, Marchalsha (Ludwig), Octavian (G. Jones), Baron Ochs (Berry), Sophie (Popp), Faninal (Gutstein), Italian tenor (Domingo).

The original title is Der Rosenkavalier.

Opera in three acts by Richard Strauss to a libretto (in German) by Hugo von Hofmannsthal.

CHARACTERS:

Time of action: mid-18th century.
Location: Vienna.
First performance: Dresden, January 26, 1911.

The complete, uncut version of the opera, not counting intermissions, lasts almost four hours. But the most striking thing is that the light comedic character is invariably preserved throughout the entire action of the opera. It is also surprising that, despite such a long performance, this opera became the most popular of all Richard Strauss's operas. It forms the basis of the repertoire of all major opera houses in England, the United States of America and Central Europe (in Latin countries it received a somewhat less enthusiastic reception); and together with Wagner's Die Meistersinger it is considered the best comic opera born on German soil since Mozart. Like Die Meistersinger - there are such coincidences - it was initially conceived as a fairly short work, but the composer was so carried away by the idea of creating a full-scale portrait of a certain phase in social history that, as the work progressed, he went into unusual detail. No one who loves this work will refuse any of these details.

ACT I

One of those “details” to which librettist Hugo von Hofmannsthal did not initially attach much importance turned out to be the main character of the work. This is Princess von Werdenberg, the wife of the field marshal, and therefore she is called Marshal. Strauss and Hofmannsthal conceived her as a very attractive young woman in her thirties (on stage, unfortunately, she is often performed by overripe sopranos). When the curtain rises, we see the princess's room. Early morning. In the absence of her husband, who has gone hunting, the hostess listens to the love confessions of her current young lover. This is an aristocrat named Octavian; he's only seventeen. The marshal is still in bed. Their farewell is full of pathos, since the princess realizes that the difference in their ages must inevitably put an end to their relationship.

The voice of Baron Ochs auf Lerchenau is heard. This is the princess's cousin, rather stupid and rude. No one was waiting for him, and before he bursts into the room, Octavian manages to put on a maid's dress. Since his part was written for a very light soprano (Hofmannsthal had in mind Geraldine Ferrar or Maria Garden), Ox is misled: he takes Octavian for a maid and tries to woo her throughout the entire scene. In essence, he came to ask his cousin (Marshal) to recommend him a noble aristocrat as a matchmaker (Knight (Cavalier) of the Rose) in order to fulfill the traditional custom, that is, to present a silver rose to his bride, who turns out to be Sophie, the daughter of the rich nouveau riche von Faninal. Ox also needs a notary, and his famous cousin invites him to wait, because her own notary, whom she called to her in the morning, is about to appear here, and then the cousin will be able to use him.

Finally, the Marshal is left alone again and in “Aria with a Mirror” (“Kann mich auch an ein Miidel erinnern” - “Can I remember the girl?”) she sadly reflects on what changes for the worse have occurred in her since then how she was a young blooming girl like Sophie von Faninal. The return of Octavian, this time dressed for riding, does not change her sad, nostalgic mood. He convinces her of his eternal devotion, but the Marshal knows better how all this will turn out (“Die Zeit, die ist ein sonderbar` Ding” - “Time, this strange thing”). She says that soon everything will have to end. And with these words he sends Octavian away. Perhaps she would see him later today, while riding in the park, or perhaps not. Octavian leaves. Suddenly she remembers: he didn’t even kiss her goodbye. But it’s too late: the door has already slammed behind him. She is very sad, but she is a smart woman.

ACT II

Finally the baron is left alone. First he thinks about death, then he seeks solace in wine and gradually forgets about all his misfortunes, especially when he discovers a note signed “Mariandle”. This, he thinks, is the servant girl whom he met in the first act in the Marshalsha's house; This note confirms the date of the meeting. "Mariandle" is none other than Octavian himself, who sent her to Oxus out of mischief. Meanwhile, the news that he has so definitely been assigned a date with a new girl encourages the baron. With this thought - not to mention the wine he has drunk - he hums a waltz. Some fragments of this famous waltz from Der Rosenkavalier had already slipped through during the action, but now, at the end of the second act, it sounds in all its splendor.

ACT III

In a wonderful terzetto, Marshalsha finally gives up her former lover, Octavian, and gives him - sadly, but with dignity and grace - to her young charming rival, Sophie (“Hab`mir`s gelobt” - “I swore to love him”) . Then she leaves them alone, and the final love duet is interrupted only for a short moment when the Marshal brings Faninal back to say parting words to the young.

“This is a dream... it can hardly be true... but let it continue forever.” These are the last words that the young lovers utter, but the opera does not end there. As they move away, a little black page, Mohammed, runs in. He finds the handkerchief that Sophie dropped, picks it up and quickly disappears.

Henry W. Simon (translated by A. Maikapara)