EÖTVÖS Tri sestry Dennis Russell Davies, Nikolai
Petersen, cond; Dmitry Egorov (Ogla); David DQ Lee (Mascha); Ray
Chenez (Irina); Eric Jurenas (Natascha); Krešimir Stražanac (Tusenbach); Iain
MacNeil (Werschinin); Thomas Faulkner (Kulygin); Barnaby Rea (Soljony); Mark
Milhofer (Doctor); Mikołaj Trąbka (Andrei); Michael McCown (Fedotik); Isaac Lee
(Rodé); Alfred Reiter (Anfisa)
Oper Frankfurt, Chor der Oper Frankfurt
OEHMS 986 (2 CDs: 103:36) Live: Frankfurt 9–10/2018
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This recording is the latest in a hugely ambitious collaboration between
the Oehms label and Frankfurt Opera. Given the stultifyingly conservative repertoire
of most opera companies, and of record labels when it comes to opera, it is
astonishing to flick through the “also available” section at the back of the
liner here and find operas by Reimann, Glanert, Franco Leoni, Korngold, Antonio
Cesti, and Flotow. Tri sestry (Three Sisters, based on the Chekov), by
Peter Eötvös, is as ambitious and unusual as anything on that list, although it
has received several stagings in Europe since its premiere, in Lyon in 1998.
The work is dramatically complex, and you get an impression of its theatrical
scope from this audio recording, but musically, the work is rich and varied,
and very much worth hearing, even without the visuals.
Eötvös and co-librettist Claus
H. Henneberg take considerable liberties with Chekov’s text. The original five
acts are compressed to three “Sequences,” and the original chronology is abandoned,
the events redistributed, and even occurring multiple times (the fire in the
town, for example, occurs in both the First and Second Sequences). The liner
essay, by Francis Hüsers, argues that the original play lacks a sense of plot
anyway, and that the cyclical approach to narrative time imposed by Henneberg
and Eötvös is equally valid. Remarkably, the resulting structure can be
paraphrased in a brief synopsis, given in the liner, which, although
disjointed, seems broadly logical. The librettists worked with German
translations, and their work was then translated back to Russian, the language
in which the opera is sung. It is a shame, then, that no libretto is included,
although even with one, a listener could only hope for a broad outline of the
drama.
Two ensembles are employed, a stage orchestra, which is positioned
behind a gauze backstage, and a pit orchestra, hence the two conductors
credited. The distinction between them is not apparent in the audio, and the
generally intimate scale of the music belies the presence of two full-sized
ensembles. The liner is generously illustrated with stills from the Frankfurt production,
which show a 1950s setting, in one scene a house interior, and in another a playground.
The composer seems at pains to make everything here strange and
unsettling, and one very effective device to this end is casting the three
sisters as countertenors, all cross-dressed as 1950s housewives here. In fact,
the whole cast is male, with the two other female characters, Natasha and
Anfisa, also sung by men. But the variety and invention of Eötvös’s vocal
writing ensures that there is never any risk of monotony.
As a purely aural experience, Tri
sestry is beguiling but never intimidating. At the start, we hear the
aspirated tones of an accordion, a typical sonority in the accompaniments that
follow. A diverse percussion section is employed, creating a soundscape of dry,
hollow tones, from untuned metallic instruments such as cowbell. Violin
glissandos are another regular feature, and Eötvös structures the Sequences
through large-scale musical progressions, but made up of very simple
devices—such as continuous upward glissandos in the strings. Loud climaxes are
rare, but are disjointed affairs, the instrumental groupings—presumably the two
orchestras—seemingly oblivious to each other. But for the most part, the
musical fabric is made up of sophisticated vocal lines with modest, if colourful
accompaniments. There is much melodrama, speaking over instrumental
accompaniment, and the clear diction of the singers, none of whom are Russian,
means that even a modest grasp of the language can help you find your bearings.
The performance and recording are excellent. Given the complex interplay
of drama and music in this work, recording from a live staging is clearly a
benefit. Frankfurt Opera have their own in-house recording team, who use radio
microphones to ensure that singers are never recorded from a distance. That
makes the recording of the voices clear and present, although it creates
another barrier for listeners trying to get a grasp of the staging. This is
actually the second commercial recording of the opera. A recording from the
first production, in Lyon, was released on DG (20/21 459
694-2) and is now available on the Budapest Music Centre label. That
version was well received, and
the presence of Eötvös himself as one of the conductors adds authority. But either
version would seem to be recommendable. Whatever its theatrical ambitions, this
is an opera that works as an audio experience, and, as such, offers a valuable
insight into the composer’s musical world.
This review appears in Fanfare magazine issue 43:4.
