Rimsky-Korsakov’s first opera is in many ways an awkward piece of work, despite his painstaking revisions (this is the third version), but it has jutting strengths that were sometimes levelled out in later operas. There is no gain in making the inescapable comparison with Mussorgsky and Boris Godunov: the two men shared a flat at the time, and also shared many of the ideas that went into the two operas, not least the notion of the guilty, suffering tsar, the very Russian idea of the ruler whose actual tyranny lends him stature in the eyes of his subjects. Ivan the Terrible is sung here by Vladimir Ognovienko with less than a real sympathetic humanity, but he is not given the insight that Mussorgsky’s more extended scenes allow to Boris Godunov; however, the confrontation with Olga is strikingly done. She is the Maid of Pskov, sung by Galina Gorchakova with a full, strong voice that makes much of the lyrical lines in the scenes with her lover Mikhail Tucha – a vivid characterization by Vladimir Galusin – but that scarcely seems to soften to his ardour or to defer before the Tsar’s astonishment at discovering that she is in fact his illegitimate daughter. On this the plot revolves. Ravaging the countryside, Tsar Ivan turns aside from laying Pskov waste because of her, and promises to rescue her from the Boyar Nikita Matuta, whose villainy is splendidly characterized in the murky tones and sinister phrasing of Nikolay Gassiev. To no avail: the denouement comes when Tucha mounts an insurrection, in the course of which Olga is killed by a stray bullet.
There is much of interest in this score, including some very well handled choruses and some of the brilliant orchestration that even the anxious young Rimsky-Korsakov, worried about his technique, found coming naturally to him. If Berlioz’s Russian visit inspired him to a hunt and storm in the forest that could not come near its Trojan original, at least the scoring is resourceful and imaginative. Gergiev, who occasionally allows lapses in ensemble with his singers, handles this vividly, and his orchestra is responsive. They play beautifully for him, with some especially sensitive brass: Russian horns have for the most part now lost the querulous vibrato originally inherited from French example without forfeiting the silvery elegance of tone. The booklet-note, well up to Philips’s high standards, includes helpful essays by Robert Layton, Detlef Gojowy and Jeremie Rousseau, plus synopses and the original Russian libretto with parallel translations into English, French and German.'