Proverbially ''the father of Russian opera'', Glinka completed his masterpiece in 1836, and A Life for the Tsar became one of the great national works, the invariable opening-night opera for any new season in Moscow or St Petersburg. In 1917 its title was changed to Ivan Susanin (which had been Glinka's own) and a way round the embarrassing enthusiasm for the first of the Romanovs was found for its revival in 1939. With Glasnost, the official title and libretto became possible again, and this is what the video presents, a performance at the Bolshoi, the scene of the opera's premiere, of the production closely associated with the Gorbachev era and first given in 1989. One wonders what the next stage in its history will be.
Such a production as this is already a curiosity, almost an anachronism. We all know about 'the modern producer' (lumping them all, good and bad, conveniently together), but here is old-style production, probably not greatly changed since the nineteenth century. The chorus lines up or stands in a semicircle. Occasionally somebody within the ranks raises an arm or smiles, but generally they don their costumes, take up their appointed places and just sing (contrast the Covent Garden Otello video, 9/93, where every member of the chorus is an individual). The chorus, moreover, are onstage more often than not; more than usually, it is their opera. With this dramatically inert element, and with a ballet that is merely pretty and expert occupying most of Act 2, it is for a long time difficult to accept the opera as being more than an expensive, old-fashioned 'show'. Only with Act 4, and the lengthy solos for Susanin and son, does the performance really begin to matter.
Here, in this act, the singers are fine, and Elena Zaremba as the boy Vanya is indeed magnificent. Nesterenko may be now a little past his best and, like the others, inclined to sing loudly throughout, yet the method is sound, the tone more than agreeable and his stage-presence noble. The tenor, Aleksandr Lomonosov, faces up manfully to the ardours of his role and is the best actor among them. Musically, the performance holds together well (its effect not enhanced by the camera's tour of the orchestra during Preludes). Visually, we tend to feel cheated too often of the full stage; probably the most effective filming is of the Epilogue, presenting a richly coloured panorama, closing in finally on the newly-crowned, 16-year-old Tsar.'