Opera the Tsars Bride, Program Notes, Sheet Music and Recordings

Program Notes & Analysis

The "Anti-Russian" Russian Opera

When the curtain rose on The Tsar's Bride in 1899, the Moscow audience had every reason to expect a familiar "Rimsky-Korsakov" opera. They were expecting a grand, colorful, nationalist pageant, a "fairy tale" filled with magic, pantheistic gods, and dazzling, atmospheric orchestration, in the vein of Sadko or his work on Borodin's Prince Igor. What they got was a revolution. Rimsky-Korsakov, the great architect of the "Russian" sound, had produced an opera that sounded, in its very bones, Italian. This was no accident. Rimsky-Korsakov, then in his 50s and the revered master of his craft, had grown tired of the very "nationalist" school he had helped create. He felt that his colleagues in "The Mighty Handful" had, in their quest to be "Russian," forgotten how to sing. He had grown bored with Wagnerian "endless melody" and the "raw" realism of Mussorgsky. The Tsar's Bride was a deliberate, radical pivot. He declared he was writing a "number opera," a return to the classical, "singer-centric" forms of bel canto: arias, duets, and grand, structured ensembles. It was a work that would prioritize "cantilena"—pure, soaring, vocal melody—above all else.

A Verdian Tragedy in the Shadow of the Kremlin

In its structure, The Tsar's Bride is a pure, middle-period Giuseppe Verdi tragedy, dressed in Russian clothing. Rimsky-Korsakov, the man who had famously "corrected" and re-orchestrated Mussorgsky's Boris Godunov to make it more "polished," was now borrowing heavily from the Italian playbook. The plot is a classic, dark love-quadrilateral built on primary-colored passions: jealousy, lust, and revenge. The baritone, Grigory Gryaznoy, is the classic Verdi "villain"—a powerful, obsessive, and morally complex man (like Rigoletto or Don Carlo's Rodrigo) who is tragically caught between his past (Lyubasha) and his unattainable ideal (Marfa). He is the opera's dark, dramatic engine. The opera's two female roles are a perfect Verdi-esque opposition: the pure, angelic lyric soprano (Marfa) versus the fiery, "wronged" dramatic mezzo-soprano (Lyubasha). Like Amneris in Aida, it is the mezzo, Lyubasha, who drives the plot with her all-consuming, desperate jealousy.

The "Tchaikovsky" Question

This new focus on passionate, vocal-driven melodrama also represented a major concession to Rimsky-Korsakov's great contemporary, Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. For decades, Rimsky-Korsakov and his "Handful" colleagues in St. Petersburg had privately dismissed Tchaikovsky as too "Western," too "sentimental," and too reliant on Italian and French models. But with The Tsar's Bride, Rimsky-Korsakov was essentially admitting that Tchaikovsky had been right about the raw, emotional power of a perfectly crafted vocal line. The soaring, lyrical, and psychologically "real" music of Marfa is a direct spiritual descendant of Tatyana's in Eugene Onegin. The opera's success was so total that it effectively healed this long-standing rift in Russian music, proving that "Russian-ness" and "bel canto" were not mutually exclusive.

A Score of Dark, Folk-Infused Passion

Despite its Italianate form, the opera's flavor is still profoundly Russian. Rimsky-Korsakov, the master orchestrator, paints a dark, oppressive, and paranoia-filled world, the world of the Oprichnina (Ivan the Terrible's brutal secret police). The music is infused with Russian folk intonation, using the modal scales and irregular rhythms of national song to give the melodies their authentic, melancholy cast. This is most clear in the opera's two most famous "numbers," both of which are staged as "in-world" performances. In Act I, Lyubasha, Gryaznoy's spurned mistress, is asked to sing for him. She sings the "Song of the Hop," a dark, fatalistic, and deeply melancholy folk-style aria that perfectly, and chillingly, establishes her despair and her capacity for darkness. By contrast, in Act II, we meet Marfa, who sings her famous aria "In Novgorod," a bright, shimmering, and innocently happy bel canto reverie about her childhood and her pure love for her fiancé, Likov. The opera is, in essence, the tragic collision of these two musical worlds: Lyubasha's dark, earthy, chromatic passion, and Marfa's bright, clear, diatonic innocence.

A Drama of Character

The opera is a masterpiece of musical characterization. Gryaznoy, the Oprichnik, is introduced not as a monster, but as a man in a state of crisis. His opening aria, "Kuda ty, bystryy" (Whither, my past days), is a profound, somber reflection on his dissolute life, his "wild nights," and his sudden, desperate longing for the "purity" that Marfa represents. He is a man who thinks he can "take" her love, just as he has taken everything else. His tragedy is his belief that a magic potion can do the work of a real heart. The most dynamic character is Lyubasha. She is a classic verismo anti-heroine. Her journey from a desperate, pleading mistress to a cold, calculating avenger is terrifying. Her Act I scene where she barters with the German "potion-seller," Bomelius, is a masterpiece of rising tension. Her final, triumphant confession in Act IV is not an apology, but a final, spiteful, and suicidal act of revenge.

The Mad Scene and the Silent Tsar

The opera's greatest "coup de théâtre" is the Tsar himself. The "Tsar's Bride" is the title, and the Tsar's choice is the engine of the entire plot, yet he never appears. He is a silent, ominous presence. In Act II, he passes by in disguise, his gaze falling on Marfa for just a moment—a moment that seals her fate. This "offstage" action makes the tragedy feel even more arbitrary and cruel. Marfa is not a "person"; she is just an "object" to be chosen. This brings us to the devastating finale, a direct homage to the great "mad scenes" of Italian opera. Marfa, dying from Lyubasha's poison, is in the Tsar's palace. She has lost her mind. She sings a long, heartbreaking, and hallucinatory scene, "Ivan Sergeyich, khochesh' v sad?" (Ivan Sergeyich, shall we go to the garden?), in which she believes she is back in her garden, speaking to her true love, Likov (who, she does not know, has already been executed by Gryaznoy). It is a moment of sublime, heartbreaking bel canto tragedy. Gryaznoy, consumed by guilt, confesses his crime, only to be one-upped by Lyubasha's own, more terrible, confession. The opera ends in a brutal climax: Gryaznoy stabs Lyubasha, is dragged away to his execution, and Marfa dies, still lost in her happy, innocent dream.

The Story of the Opera

Act I: The Feast

In the house of Grigory Gryaznoy, a high-ranking Oprichnik (one of the Tsar's secret police). Gryaznoy is in a dark mood. He is hosting a feast, but he is obsessed with Marfa, the beautiful daughter of the merchant Sobakin, and he laments his "wild" life. He is no longer interested in his fiery mistress, Lyubasha, who watches him with growing despair. Gryaznoy's guests arrive, including the German physician, Yelisey Bomelius. The tenor Ivan Likov also arrives; he is Marfa's fiancé, just returned from his studies abroad. Gryaznoy is politely welcoming, but is inwardly furious. He asks Lyubasha to sing for the guests. She sings the dark, sad "Song of the Hop." When the guests leave, Gryaznoy decides he must have Marfa. He will go to Bomelius and buy a magic "love potion" to make her love him. Lyubasha, who has been hiding, overhears this plan and is consumed by a desire for revenge.

Act II: The Bride-Show

A bright afternoon in the home of Sobakin, Marfa's father. Marfa, her friend Dunyasha, and her father are awaiting the return of Ivan Likov. Marfa, in her famous aria ("In Novgorod"), sings of her pure, simple love for Likov. Just as Likov arrives, Sobakin tells them of a terrible "honor": the Tsar, Ivan the Terrible, is currently in the process of a "bride-show," reviewing all the noble and merchant-class maidens in Russia to choose a new wife. Marfa and Dunyasha have been summoned. As they are discussing this, a strange event occurs: the Tsar himself, in disguise, passes through the room and stares at Marfa, who is terrified by his gaze. The act ends with a choir offstage announcing the inevitable: the Tsar has chosen. His new bride is to be Marfa. She and her father are horrified; their happy, simple life is over.

Act III: The Poison

At a "farewell" feast for Marfa, who is now the Tsar's betrothed. Gryaznoy, as a high-ranking Oprichnik and "friend of the family," has been chosen to act as the "witness" (a position of honor). Lyubasha, in a secret, desperate meeting, has gone to Bomelius. She has "bought" his silence about her own "potion" by threatening to expose his poisons, and has demanded he give her a different, stronger, slower-acting poison. At the feast, Gryaznoy, in his role as witness, offers a ceremonial toast to the new Tsarina. He secretly slips what he thinks is the love potion into Marfa's cup. Marfa drinks. Lyubasha, hidden among the crowd, watches her rival. The act ends in a grand, celebratory chorus.

Act IV: The Judgment

In a chamber in the Tsar's palace. Marfa is on her deathbed. The slow-acting poison has taken its toll. She is delirious, in the grip of a "mad scene." She does not recognize her surroundings. She believes she is in her garden with her true love, Likov, and sings to him ("Ivan Sergeyich, shall we go to the garden?"). Gryaznoy, who has been standing by, is consumed by guilt. He confesses to everyone that he gave her a potion, but swears it was not poison, only a charm to make her love him. He then reveals that, in a fit of jealousy, he has already had Likov executed. At this, Lyubasha, who has been watching, steps forward and, in a final, triumphant confession, screams that she was the one who bribed Bomelius and swapped the love charm for a deadly poison. Gryaznoy, in a final, wordless rage, pulls out a knife, stabs Lyubasha to death, and is immediately seized by the Tsar's guards to be taken to his own public execution. Marfa, oblivious to the carnage, dies in her beautiful dream, calling out her lover's name.