By Daniel Ginsberg
Special to The Washington Post
Tuesday, February 6, 2007

There it was -- finally -- that big Russian sound, bright to the edge of brashness, expressive to the point of effusion.

For the past week, the Kirov Opera and Orchestra have resided at the Kennedy Center, presenting beautifully proportioned Italian gems. Yet, in the service of the lyricism of Rossini's "The Voyage to Reims" or the chiaroscuro lightness of Verdi's "Falstaff," the ensemble kept the boldness in check. Rare have been the earsplitting but transparent climaxes and the flavorful phrasing that give the company its unique character.

On Sunday afternoon at the Concert Hall, under the direction of its jet-setting director, Valery Gergiev, the Kirov gave a stunning concert performance of Shostakovich's "Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk." With soul-stirring musicmaking that at times reached assaulting loudness, the artists held nothing back and took the full measure of this rarely performed masterwork.

Barely based on the Shakespearean tragedy, the electrifying opera presents a caustic satire of Russian society in which no figure possesses much in the way of redeeming values, everyone hellbent on greed and revenge. Simple ennui draws the heroine Katerina into an affair with the conniving laborer Sergey, leading her to murder her husband and father-in-law.

Peppered through the four acts are strongly drawn characters -- a befuddled priest, a corrupt police chief, a naive peasant -- straight out of Gogol or Dostoevsky. No one truly connects to another, nor can anyone prevent the tragic events that ineluctably unfold. With a keen sense of irony and wit, Shostakovich wrestles with the dark truths of his day.

It is this unrelenting message that must have hit a nerve with Stalin. After seeing part of a 1936 Moscow performance (did he see a parody of himself in Boris, the imperious father-in-law?), the dictator notoriously mounted a bitter attack on the composer through the state-controlled paper. Shostakovich withdrew from society and veiled his worldview in abstract symphonies and string quartets.

Though these instrumental works are integral to classical music, the Kirov's performance, fueled by fine playing and singing, underscored the unalloyed tragedy it is that the composer never wrote another opera.

Soprano Larissa Gogolevskaya brought out the full dimension of Katerina, a character on a round trip from despair to madcap passion. Viktor Lutsiuk used an agile tenor to take Sergey's contrivances to comic levels, while bass Alexei Tanovitksi ferociously sang the part of Boris.

The Mariinsky Theatre Chorus showed a mastery of the great Russian choral tradition, working at the extremes of loudness and softness, while wresting extra pungency out of each section. The achingly rendered chorus of exiles in the final act paid a debt to the "Prisoner's Chorus" of Beethoven's "Fidelio" and the "Chorus of the Hebrew Slaves" of Verdi's "Nabucco."

The orchestra, playing with beauty and fire, demonstrated a similar ability to highlight influences. There was Bach written on the learned fugal passages and the instrumental obbligato. Mahler spoke through coruscating instrumentation, jocular woodwinds and the piercing outcry of the last measures, which seem akin to the dying spasm of the Viennese composer's tragic Sixth Symphony.

Yet in the churning passages, colorfully striated melodies and sonic boisterousness, the Kirov brought out Shostakovich's singular voice, his ability to marry elements of the traditional and the modern in music of uncompromising richness and force. And if there was any lingering doubt about the composer's ability to write in a picturesque way, listen to the lovemaking scene of the first act, which rivals Strauss's and Scriabin's ribald musical depictions of intercourse.

Through it all, there was Gergiev -- looking as rough-hewn and cagey as ever -- to summon the players to their best. Eschewing a podium, he moved among the artists, confidently cueing a roaring phrase here or playing traffic cop in a booming swell there. There wasn't much in the way of balancing and sculpting the sound, but this opera rewards unfettered intensity.