Prokofiev composed his Semyon Kotko during the late 1930s, at a time when his major works went unperformed in the Soviet Union. Even his ballet Romeo and Juliet was having difficulty finding a stage due to “politics” (this was during the height of Stalin’s purges). Prokofiev, needing to create an opera that would be both popular and politically acceptable, chose Valentin Katayev’s I am the Son of Working People. Katayev also wrote the libretto, which tells of Semyon Kotko, a gunner in the Russian army during the Bolshevik revolution. After returning to his Ukranian village to marry his fiancée, Sofya, he is put off and betrayed to the occupying Germans by Tkachenko, her greedy, Tsar-loyalist father. Forced into exile, Semyon trains his fellow Bolsheviks for their eventual return to liberate their village. Arriving just in time to prevent Sofya’s forced wedding to Klembovsky, a formerly wealthy landowner, Semyon hands Tkachenko over to the Bolsheviks, who take him off to be executed, thus leaving Semyon and Sofya free to marry. Charming, isn’t it?
Yet, for this Party-pleasing, drearily socialist-realist plot, Prokofiev composed one of his most magnificent scores, full of beautiful and unforgettable melodies. In contrast to the composer’s cosmopolitan, jazz-influenced music of the time, this is a very Russian work, with many passages of a rough-hewn, Mussorgsky-like character. The score brims with folk-like tunes, and even features those galloping xylophones familiar from Shostakovich and Kabalevsky. But the music is unmistakably Prokofiev, and several passages, such as Frosya’s (Semyon’s sister) first act aria, and Semyon and Sofya’s beautiful Act 3 duet sound as if they would have fit comfortably in Romeo and Juliet.
Act 3 is the musical and emotional highpoint of the work (the love scene, betrayal, executions, and escape), though the others are compelling as well (even if, as usual in opera, the expository Act 1 is a little talky). The home-grown cast all give wonderfully idiomatic performances. Viktor Lutsiuk’s tender singing creates a caring yet strong Semyon, Tatiana Pavlovskaya is radiant as Sofya, and Gennady Bezzubenkov makes a perfectly loathsome Tkachenko. Olga Savova’s Frosya also deserves special mention.
As we’ve come to expect from their Tchaikovsky, Rimsky-Korsakov, and other Prokofiev opera recordings the Kirov Opera Orchestra and Chorus are peerlessly authentic in this repertoire, and Valery Gergiev proves himself a master at wielding these big pieces. Philips is finally providing the first-class sound these performers deserve–clear, wide-ranging and well balanced. Fans of Russian opera won’t need my recommendation. However, if you love Prokofiev’s music but have never heard any of his operas, I urge you to give this a try.
