The Kirov's Tchaikovsky Triple Delight

Last night's "Tribute to Tchaikovsky," presented by the Kirov Ballet, Opera and Orchestra under the direction of Valery Gergiev, was the sort of evening for which the Kennedy Center was invented -- a stately, ambitious, multi-disciplinary festival of some of the highest of high arts.

Over the course of three hours, we heard lengthy excerpts from Tchaikovsky's operas "Iolanta," "Pique Dame," "Eugene Onegin" and "Mazeppa" and watched a reconstruction of choreographer George Balanchine's "Serenade," a classic ballet set to the great Serenade for Strings. It was all part of a planned 10-year exchange program between the unified Kirov ensembles and the Washington Opera; if last night is any indication, this ought to be a fruitful collaboration.

Gergiev's principal gifts would seem to be those of inspirational shaman. He is not always a polished craftsman (indeed, a scene from "Pique Dame," titled "In the Gambling House," was downright sloppy), and I remain unconvinced that he would be fully effective in music outside his chosen repertory. But it is impossible to deny the energy and eagerness he brings to everything he conducts. If this program was a little bit too ambitious for him to perfect, he has at least three excuses -- the Kirov Opera production of Mussorgsky's "Khovanshchina," which opens tonight at the Kennedy Center Opera House; the Kirov Opera production of Verdi's "Macbeth," which opens on Friday; and an ongoing presentation of Prokofiev's "War and Peace" at the Metropolitan Opera House in New York. There is an old maxim: If you want something done, ask a busy person. Nobody in classical music is much busier -- or more exciting -- than Gergiev is right now.

As it happened, several of the players in "War and Peace" made the trip to Washington to participate in the Tchaikovsky evening. Anna Netrebko, whose Natasha was far and away the best thing about the Prokofiev opera, joined forces with mezzo-soprano Ekaterina Semenchuk and baritone Vasily Gerello for a gorgeous trio from "Pique Dame." The results were almost Mozartean in their burnished sweetness. (The presence of this selection must have confused many in the audience, as it was never announced and, indeed, was added to the roster only a few hours before the curtain went up.)

Coming to terms with Tchaikovsky is a puberty rite for many listeners. Upon first hearing, we love him for the unbridled passion and grandeur of his music. Later on, we may go through a phase when it all seems a bit much -- the swooping strings, the hypercharged emotionalism, the intense subjectivity -- and react against him. Finally, in what passes for full maturity, we return to Tchaikovsky and discover him once again, this time for keeps. By now, we are willing to forgive some occasional bursts of effusion so long as we can savor those marvelous warm melodies and lose ourselves in his eternally inventive orchestration.

And so the neglected early opera "Iolanta" made its usual haunting effect. Soprano Tatiana Pavlovskaya, in the title role, and tenor Oleg Balashov melted together in a searing duet, their singing growing ever more sensitive and entwined. This is perhaps the most modest of Tchaikovsky's operas -- indeed, it is often staged by conservatories, to good effect. And yet Gergiev's sweeping, larger-than-life interpretation seemed not only stirring but also appropriate. As the Unitarian proverb states, there are many paths to truth.

For me, the highlight of the evening was the "Serenade." I cannot pretend to speak authoritatively about the dance (although Balanchine's visual arrangements in pastel blue seemed to complement the music inordinately well) but the Kirov Orchestra played this glorious score -- not so much neoclassical as ultra-baroque in the manner of Leopold Stokowski's Bach transcriptions -- with just the right mixture of passion, melancholy and formal clarity. For all the fast and fluid action on the stage, the ultimate impression was that of a serene stasis; one watched the dancers as if in a happy dream.

Vladimir Moz and Pavlovskaya imbued the final scene from "Onegin" with dramatic urgency and bleak nostalgia; what an intricate and poetic opera this is. The program unfolded on a spare stage, decorated with only a bench, a pillar and projected backdrops. Some of the images were a little cheesy -- soft-focus nature photographs that might have been lifted from Hallmark for "Iolanta" and an iconic Ace of Hearts for "Pique Dame." Still, all in all, it was a noble and enriching evening -- with the promise of more to come in "Khovanshchina" tonight.