Cher Public

Triumphal Arc

Gil Rose, who leads the lively Odyssey Opera in Boston, makes a specialty of works like Rienzi and Dmitri that boast a considerable choral presence. He was bound, sooner or later, to get to Tchaikovsky’s Orleánskaia Djeva (The Maid of Orleans), and did so last Saturday, kicking off Odyssey’s fifth season—a remarkably short time in which to have become a major regional presence. The season is entitled “Trial By Fire,” dedicated to five works about Joan of Arc, some staged, others in concert, plus Donizetti’s Siege of Calais.  

Djeva, given in concert, was nonetheless sumptuous. The small size and elegant acoustics of the New England Conservatory’s Jordan Hall (which seats about a thousand), made the symphonic and choral forces sound even grander than they were, enveloping a happy audience for four hours in this very Russian version of a Parisian grand opera.

Besides a skillful reading of Tchaikovsky’s thundering choral clamor and delicate orchestration (and it’s very Tchaikovsky, full of elegant tricks in the style of those that ornament the Nutcracker or Onegin), Odyssey gave us a leading lady, Kate Aldrich, thoroughly in charge of the long title role.

Three costumes (Art Nouveau for the country girl, dark metallic gown for the armored warrior, white shift and bare feet for the martyr) registered changes in the Maid’s circumstances. Aldrich has developed from light mezzo parts to a full-bodied singer of impressive power, sensuality and superb vocal control from the despairing lowest notes to a ringing top that gleamed through the orchestral forces.

The intensity of her prayers in Act I was inspiring, but she also riveted attention through the lengthy declamation that galvanizes the Dauphin in Act II, and was credibly torn between passion and holy duty in the scenes with Lionel, the Burgundian knight whose life she spares in battle. Lionel is the motive Tchaikovsky (following Schiller) provides for Joan’s loss of faith in herself.

This is absurd, though not as absurd as Verdi’s solution in Giovanna d’Arco, which will conclude the Odyssey season next April: having Joan fall for the Dauphin. One must remember that Joan was not yet officially a saint, but these inventions are sure to raise titters.

Actually, none of the other characters has much depth: The piece is a monodrama with grand opera trappings. It is only Joan’s dilemma, psychological and spiritual, that intrigues us or the composer, and since we can’t really believe in her passion for Lionel, the fiery exorcism, bereft of accusations of witchcraft or hysterical English patriotism, may puzzle some listeners. There’s a chorus of commentary angels (not of devils as well, as in Verdi), and they sound pretty but their words are not enlightening.

The men around Joan were an impressive group in many ranges. Kevin Ray, for example, has a silvery lyric tenor with serenely lovely high notes. The Dauphin can seem epicene or silly (there is no version of Joan’s story that makes him much of a hero), but the aristocratic ease of Ray’s tone gave his regal contrast its due: This is a ruler who never gets his hands or his phrasing dirty.

Yeghishe Manucharyan, a baritone of considerable dignity, sang Joan’s fiancé, Raymond, who serves as a foil in duets with her angry father, Thibaut. That self-righteous role went to Kevin Thompson, whose menacing fulminations shook the auditorium with a credible depiction of mindless paternal hellfire.

Aleksey Bogdanov sang the romantic Lionel with a driving, masculine baritone, rich as chocolate babka, torn between battlefield bloodlust and sudden yearning in a way that almost made his dilemma credible. Mikhail Svetlov, who sang Tsar Dodon in New City Opera’s Golden Cockerel so wittily last May, was all priestly dignity as only the Russians can serve it as the Archbishop. David Kravitz, a local favorite, sang Dunois with clear but sometimes unsteady intonation. Erica Petrocelli, given the drab role of Agnes Sorel, sang a few impressive phrases.

Rose has a natural feel for the way grand opera composers built scenes to excite audiences, and the effects on this occasion seemed to explode mellifluously into the fan-shaped arena. The exquisite way Tchaikovsky’s melodies float over woodwind effects (with the horn serving as one of the winds) was particularly happy in his hands. I thought him a little carried away during the final scene, which benefits from a stately movement through helpless witness to the ultimate horror, but this scene has never failed, in my experience, to conquer an audience.

With its magnificent orchestration, a familiar and beloved aria in Act I (usually known by its French title, “Adieu, foret”), spectacular concerted finales, a fulsome ballet and the irresistible conclusion, in which the composer, who had recently attended the first Ring at Bayreuth, appears to be saying, “This is the way to score a pyre,” Djeva’s comparative obscurity seems to call for explanation. The psychological puzzle of the heroine is part of it, certainly, but we do not need Joan to make sense to sympathize with her.

Djeva was the first of Tchaikovsky’s operas to be heard outside Russia and was, indeed, designed for international circulation at a time when few Russian operas, if any, had been exported. The composer followed the Parisian style, and the result is a hybrid with insufficient personality of its own. What he discounted was how dated the Scribe-Meyerbeer model had become.

Too, many critics have been uncomfortable with Tchaikovsky’s version of fifteenth-century France. Iolanta is set in the same place and period—but Iolanta is a fairy tale. Djeva aspires to French historical pageant, but its characters make music like Slavs. The atmospheric minstrels serenading Charles VII smack of Smetana’s Moldau. The love duets have a lugubrious Russian tint. It was all very well for Berlioz to invent a march for the Trojans and Verdi to devise the sound of Pharaoh’s court since we do not know Trojan or ancient Egyptian tunes, but opera audiences do know French music, and this Joan just doesn’t sound French.

Bostonians may get a more subtle view of Joan from Odyssey with Norman Dello Joio’s The Trial at Rouen in December or Honegger’s Jeanne d’Arc au Bucher in February.


  • aulus agerius

    Wow! Yegishe Manucharyan has become a baritone?? He used to be a very good Rossini tenor whom I have heard several times.

  • Dana Corby

    So, it sounds to me like you enjoyed it very much but wished you hadn’t because it was so wrong?

  • Rick

    According to Wikipedia Raymond is indeed a tenor role -- and I don’t see anything in the internet indicating that Mr Manicharyan is now a baritone.

    In any event, thanks for an excellent review. I wonder if anybody can throw light on whether Joan is a soprano or a mezzo part. It is sung by both voice categories (was e.g. among the last new assumptions of Ms Freni) -- but is that because of the way it is written or because two versions (or ossias) exist (as is e.g. the case for Fedora (- and Mephistopheles??))?


    • aulus agerius

      Dolora Zajick sang it in San Francisco; I saw 2 performances. I also saw Freni’s performance in Washington. Seems like I read recently, probably in relation to the Odyssey performance, that the opera had had its American debut in Reno NV which would point to Zajick at an even earlier date. I believe Arkhipova is generally considered a mezzosoprano as well as Preobrazhenskaya and now Aldrich -- so that’s 3 to 1.

      • Luvtennis

        But then there is the Farrel recording of the aria! Sublime. And Jessye’s performance at a Russian Gala was also extraordinary.

      • I’ve also heard Ewa Podles sing the aria.

        • aulus agerius

          “Adieu forets”? Me too -- in a recital at Masonic Auditorium San Francisco, ’78 or ’79. First I ever heard of her. Personally I like better the aria earlier in the opera which builds to a tutti ensemble -- so full of religious fervor! :-)

      • CCorwinNYC

        My favorite version of the aria is also by a soprano--Sena Jurinac’s 1950 recording in German.

    • Camille

      Yes. This is what I do:
      refer yourself to a cast list of the premiere performances. See if this role was written specifically for a certain singer, as oft times that was the case. Then look up his/her repertory and see what type of classification they are billed as at the time of the performance. (Many times a singer’s vocal category may change, e.g., Carlo Bergonzi debuted as a baritone) and then look to the country to see how voices are categorized (a Jugenglicher dramatisches Sopran is similar to but not exactly the same as a lirico spinto). And then, look at famous recorded and/or historical performances of the role.

      If you don’t get lost in translation somewhere you may well come up with a correct categorisation but they vary country by country and through different time periods and phases of vocal art. This particular role, from my cursory deductions is probably best served by what is known as mezzosoprano but the line which divides the mezzo from dramatic soprano is so fine as to make it debatable. The first singer of this role seems to have been primarily classified as the former.

      The KLOIBER Fach Lists used to be very important in Germany in dividing up the various categories but there was a great deal of overlap and grey zones and I understand the Kloiber is no longer the ultimate authority as once it was.

  • Harrison Sturgeon

    Yeghishe Manucharyan is
    DEFINITELY a tenor. I’ve heard him many times and I am a big fan. You can read his bio at

  • Camille

    As someone who is ALWAYS running late behind the Tschaikovsky train, trying to catch up—I’m now more than a little sorry that this passed by and made no effort but, frankly, the other experience of this valiant new opera troupe, and I do laud their collective initiative and enterprise and what with the scope of this season’s prospective, they are doing themselves proud—-Mah!—-I did not enjoy the klang of their orchestra in that smalish auditorium as well as finding some of the soloists lacking in requisites I felt basic for singing that opera, as well as sounding not well-rehearsed and a lot like a glorified reading. However, I do understand they are a young company and not funded by Alberto Vilar or his equivalent(!), so I’d be willing to give them a break. Maybe the Giovanna d’Arco? Jeanne d’Arc au Bûcher I’ve missed a couple times now, too, including that one a few years ago with Famous French Whatshername at Tully or was it Geffen??

    In any case, pilfering around on Youtube I came up with this tantalising titbit:

    And the Formidable Irina Arkhipova in a classic cold war Moscow version of it: