This Salzburg production of 1992, taken from the Grosses Festspielhaus, although at times insufficiently focused, does in the end convey the unremitting harshness of the milieu, the uselessness of life in prison, and the individuality and feeling that can arise even in such circumstances. Eduardo Arroyo's decor was castigated as being a 'designer-gulag' by one hostile critic, but its clean lines and evocation of mood have the advantage of filling the vast stage effectively and forming a suitable setting for several riveting performances. It is wondrously seconded by Abbado's forceful yet subtle reading of the score, which is played by the Vienna Philharmonic with incisiveness allied to an inner warmth, thus reflecting exactly the feeling of the music. Pain and compassion are held in fine balance.
The chief narratives are enacted by three characters. Langridge adds another eccentric to his repertory as the pitiful, slightly crazed Skuratov, who has committed a crime of passion. McCauley's Luka is a more aggressive, bitter inmate who has murdered a prison officer under extreme provocation. These are both tenor roles; bass-baritone Pederson takes the part of Shishkov, who has killed his unfaithful wife, and is haunted by the memory of her and her lover. His is by far the longest autobiography and Pederson sustains it magnificently. Veteran Ghiaurov movingly plays the elderly aristocrat Goryanchikov, the most sympathetic character, who befriends the vulnerable youth Alyeya, a role given to a soprano to provide vocal contrast; it is here sung without sentiment by Szmytka. Zednik's Shapkin is a well-observed addition to his gallery of comprimario parts. Many others make their mark in smaller roles.
Large's direction for video is as sensitive as ever, giving vivid close-ups of the principals while never neglecting the larger canvas. The picture quality is good, but the sound is a trifle too backward. Subtitles, essential here, are thankfully provided. AB