Review | Ambur Braid Kills It in Komische Oper Berlin’s Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk

Like its material, Komische Oper Berlin’s new production of Shostakovich’s Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk by director Barrie Kosky is unrelentingly grim. The action takes place in an undefined space with a white rectangle superimposed upon a distressed gray wall. Props are minimal, the principal one being the title character’s bed where all manner of lust, violence and murder takes place. Visual excitement is ignited by the strategic movements of the chorus, and the unrelenting acrobatic demands placed on the principals. The story is told in a remarkably straightforward manner, but it’s the coalescence of all these artistic elements that pushes this production to the highest level.

Kosky, along with set designer Rufus Didwiszus and costume designer Victoria Behr, have chosen a more-or-less 60s aesthetic which keeps the work firmly within the Soviet era. Katerina is cleverly set apart as the boss’s wife, with slightly more stylish garb (although for the opening section, she mostly appears in revealing lingerie). The chorus looks, and functions, like good, obedient proletariat but quickly reveal their dissatisfaction working under the iron thumb of mill owner Boris, Katerina’s father-in-law. Kosky’s dynamic staging of this group is extraordinary, whether it is the men lasciviously stomping out a pumping rhythm in a horrific rape scene, or the massed scuttling back and forth of groups led by Katerina and her lover, Sergei. The director is truly a master of this, dare we say old-fashioned, reliance on bodies and movement. 

It’s no wonder this opera encountered so many problems with censorship after its 1934 premiere before Stalin banned it two years later throughout the Soviet Union. Graphic sex, multiple murders and a suicide may be ubiquitous on Netflix, but live onstage, they still have the ability to evoke gasps. And this staging lays into the gore with gusto with graphic depictions of Sergei’s welts after a whipping and disgusting refuse pouring out of Boris’s mouth after Katerina feeds him poisoned mushrooms. It captures the body horror vibes of the moment, but in the end, doesn’t go much beyond anything that isn’t already in the story. 

Soprano Ambur Braid conquered the title role. Its vocal demands are formidable. We could perhaps describe it as Russian verismo in that the singing line is so tied to the drama. Braid sounded absolutely secure and offered some truly thrilling moments. Her cry as she utters her lover’s name at the top of her range while arching her body on the bed was pure vocal drama. She is forced to undergo indignities and abuse from all of the men in her orbit. The physical and emotional demands really push Braid to the limits and this must be considered another major stepping stone in her artistic trajectory. 

No less intense was tenor Sean Panikkar as Sergei. His brooding, hunky presence and bright, edgy sound seem tailor-made for the role of the factory worker Katerina chooses over her milksop husband, Zinovy. Whether prowling cat-like around the bed, or just walking back and forth upstage when Katerina first notices him, Panikkar emitted a presence that couldn’t be ignored. 

As the appalling Boris, bass Dmitry Ulyanov lorded over his workers and lusted after his daughter-in-law in the most detestable way. Tenor Elmar Gilbertsson effectively conveyed  Sinovy’s weakness, unable to satisfy his wife’s desires. 

There were several key cameos in a roster cast from depth. Tenor Caspar Krieger was outstanding as a sort of everyman, the worker who discovers the dead bodies and also reminisces about his alcoholic family. Mezzo-soprano Susan Zarrabi was forthright in demanding that Sergei get her Katerina’s stockings before she will sleep with him at the bleak labour camp of the final scene. Bass-baritone Marcell Bakonyi was a droll police chief who leads a team of bribe-happy clowns in one of Shostakovich’s most cynical scenes.

Intrinsic to the work are a series of orchestral interludes which communicate the horror of the characters’ lives in grand, roof-raising climaxes as well as darkly comic, rollicking passages. Under their music director James Gaffigan, the company’s orchestra were key to the overall success of this production. Despite the fierce intensity, and volume, of their sound, somehow the singers were never masked. The chorus deserves praise on many levels. Top notch singing of course, but even more, a panoply of individualized characters who upped the stakes at every opportunity.

This was a rare production in which the elements were so well-balanced it is difficult to single any individual one out. The new KOB Lady Macbeth is an exhilarating and harrowing ride.

Komische Oper Berlin’s Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk continues its run through March 14.