Boris gets ready to rumble

By WILLIAM DART

The billboards promise "Murder Madness Mayhem" if you go along to NBR New Zealand Opera's production of Mussorgsky's epic historical thriller Boris Godunov. The Billboard Boris looks a wily chap, but he's a stand-in, not the great Russian bass Vladimir Matorin who will be on the Aotea stage tonight.

I'd been alerted to the fact this basso assoluto has minimal English well before an interview had been mooted, a point driven home when I caught a short feature on morning television a few weeks ago. Matorin came across as a genial giant, rattling away in resonant Russian, tossing in the occasional English word or phrase in much the same way my Moscow friends sprinkled coriander leaves on their pelmini.

For the first interview I was met by what seemed like a Soviet-style delegation. Matorin was one of a party of four, along with his wife Svetlana, a young translator, and a minder from NBR New Zealand Opera.

Each question, duly translated, occasioned a huge outpouring from this man who obviously had his soul in the right place as well as a wacky sense of humour. A few sentences of translation every five minutes were woefully inadequate.

A second meeting was more fruitful. We're in his hotel suite, rather than a foyer with all the atmosphere of waiting for an overdue Aeroflot flight. Helena, the translator, is an actress, petite and glamorous, and her charm works on the Russian bear beside her.

First, there are rumours to dispel. "Nyet" is the answer when I ask whether he had started off in operetta: "There were no bass parts, they only wanted tenor heroes." And he never did get to sing for his supper in Moscow restaurants. "It was just a dream," is the slightly wistful response. "I would have been paid ten roubles a song and I was only earning $40 a month at the time. The women would have all loved me, and everyone would have treated me like a God ... but it was all an illusion."

It's Boris he's most keen to talk about and the floodgates open. Boris Godunov is "a piece with two realities, about getting power and the whole issue of the human soul and conscience. The original Pushkin play is just like Shakespeare. All the big issues are there and it's quite global, but interpreted by Russians. Everyone is born, dies, laughs and struggles. And, because it is a classic, there's no problem with putting it into modern dress."

There are no 30kg coronation robes in this production, set in the Soviet era - something that would never happen in present-day Russia. "In Moscow they would never allow me to play Boris as Breshnev, for example. There are too many memories, too much anger and too much sorrow. It would be too cruel."

He admits to being cautious at first when he met director Matthew Richardson in Wellington. "I was afraid of him because he was younger than me," Matorin comments, with a rumbling laugh. "My first impression was okay, he's very young but maybe we can search for something together."

Which is exactly what happened. The singer goes on to describe the infinitesimal care that has been taken analysing the text and getting the pronunciations nailed down. He enjoys hamming it up as he demonstrates the old closed vowels characters like [the monk] Pimen use as opposed to the snappier Moscow vowels of today.

I'd heard this man was very committed to the whole rehearsal process, but it's not so cut and dried. "I love performances, too, because no one can stop me," exclaims Matorin, "but I also love rehearsals because I can stop any time if I want to cough or have a drink of water. But, because you know you can, it never comes to that. It's a different sense of freedom."

He remembers one director in Russia who made him realise that creating a character was "all about the moment, realising what's in your pockets, what are you wearing right now" - a technique apparent in a 1989 video production of Boris Godunov, in which Matorin's Boris has a subtlety and dramatic truth that is a far cry from the usual post-Eisenstein Expressionism.

Courageously, the Auckland production uses Mussorgsky's first version of the opera. It ends with Boris' death ("the finish of Boris is the finish of the opera," chuckles Matorin) which means he "can't just go off home, eat and be an ordinary person". This original score "allows the drama to focus on two great people, Boris and Pimen".

Boris Godunov "reflects the Russian soul, the soul of the most mysterious place in the whole world", intones Matorin. "It's all about our unsettled souls. Pimen tells the truth with such directness; he's not afraid to search for it. The Russian people have made history with their silence and sometimes silence speaks louder than words."

This man obviously comes from Dostoevsky country. I'm quoted a short ironic poem by Lermontov in which "a sailor is searching for the inevitable storm and rough seas that will give him peace of mind".

There are a few unexpected aspects to the career of this man who, understandably, has specialised in the Russian repertoire and taken it around the globe. In 1980 he played Porgy in a Moscow production of Porgy and Bess, staged for the Americans who, in the end, stayed home. "It was a great part for me," remembers Matorin, "because it used the top end of my range. The only problem was that I had to lie down in the intervals because it was so painful wheeling myself around in that little cart."

A few years ago, Matorin shared the stage at Lausanne with our own Barry Mora in a production of Shostakovich's The Nose. Had he met Shostakovich? "I saw him in the distance in the 1970s and it was terrifying. He was very old and shaking. He wasn't well."

It's unavoidable but like all loyal Antipodeans, I have to ask how he finds our country. I'm all but submerged in the effusion. "I love everything here, it feels like Paradise, with so many beautiful people and journalists and translators - (added after a mock frown from Helena) - and I'm so lucky to have a trip here with my beautiful wife."

When he starts singing the praises of the view from the window, I suspect he might be joshing a little, although a sharp observation of our psyche being "more undressed inside than outside" shows this man has a Mussorgskian eye for detail. I wonder whether he composes on the side ...

Performance

* What: Boris Godunov, by Modest Mussorgsky

* Where: Aotea Centre

* When: March 27-29, April 2-9