Mieczyslaw Vainberg
      The Golden Key, Op. 55

* Bolshoi Theatre Orchestra/Mark Ermler
  Olympia OCD473 Total time: 78:17

Summary for the Busy Executive: Wonderful.

"Fairy-tale" operas and ballets have always been pretty big in Russia,
mainly due to the country's draconian censorship, first under the Romanoff
and then under the Soviet tsars.  It was a good way for a composer to
avoid headaches or, with a good deal of guts and guile, to slip in
political content.  Of course, one can read a fairy tale in many ways,
including a Socialist Realist one - which happened when Prokofiev's
Cinderella fell into the interpretive hands of the Soviet press, an
interpretation which (with the passage of years) has become truly
laughable.

Vainberg's Golden Key inhabits an ambiguous space.  Alexei Tolstoy, a
writer who understandably never wanted to make waves in the Stalinist
state, provided the libretto.  However, Vainberg's music takes the
basic story to other places.  For me, Vainberg is the third great Soviet
composer, along with Prokofiev and Shostakovich.  His musical idiom owes
a lot to Shostakovich, and indeed he used to describe himself as a "pupil"
of the older composer, although he never formally apprenticed himself.
In fact, Vainberg was an already full-grown composer by the time he met
Shostakovich, and Shostakovich not only helped him earn a living, but
probably (and at considerable personal risk) saved him from "disappearance"
during the anti-Semitic purges of Stalin's final years.  Nevertheless,
although Shostakovich and Vainberg share a certain musical language and
iconography, miraculously neither becomes a trivial imitation of the
other.  Vainberg composes at Shostakovich's level, and over the years
I've found him a less acidic artistic personality.  There's something
"warmer" (but not fuzzier) about Vainberg's music, and I've come to
regard the two in roughly the same relation as Brahms and Dvorak.
Still, Vainberg's idiom carries with it a sharply-satiric edge.

The story of The Golden Key mixes Pinocchio with Petrushka and a little
bit of the beanstalk's Jack.  As I say, the fairy-tale can be read many
ways.  The puppet-hero, Buratino, one can view either as a proletarian
hero (he leads the other puppets in a revolt against the puppeteer) or
as an anti-Soviet.  He finds the golden key to the Country of Happiness,
which implies that the Revolution isn't enough to make you happy.  But
who really wants to take a fairy-tale that seriously, if he doesn't have
to?

For those who know Vainberg's symphonies, concerti, and chamber music,
this ballet may come as a surprise.  Vainberg has unbuttoned his buttons
and poured into the work some of the most suave and delightful tunes in
all of ballet.  This is Poulenc-caliber, without Poulenc's idiom.  The
heavy shadows that cling to the orchestration of his more serious-minded
works disappear.  Indeed, the ballet might be viewed as a gallery of the
great Russian masters of orchestration.  Those familiar with Vainberg,
of course, expect the quick, "grotesque" dances a la Shostakovich, but
might be surprised by Tchaikovskian waltzes, Rimskian brass work, flashes
of the Petrushka Stravinsky in the winds and in some of the dance rhythms,
and gorgeous adagios of the sort Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet taught
Russian composers how to write.  The ability to assume different characters
and voices helps a story-teller vivify his tale.  The uncanny thing is,
none of these numbers merely imitates, any more than Thoreau imitates
Emerson, even though both speak Transcendental Yankee.  Vainberg has
something of his own to say.  But it's not just tunes.  Vainberg the
symphonist peeks out from backstage by giving the main characters motives
that stick to them from one number to another.

Not that you can follow a story from this CD.  Vainberg made four
orchestral suites out of numbers from the ballet music, without the idea
of keeping the armature of the plot.  He positions the numbers according
to the principle of effective contrast and climax within each suite.
Furthermore, although Olympia gives us the first three suites entire,
it excerpts the fourth.  Nevertheless, this is a very generously-filled
CD.  Ermler and the Bolshoi do well enough, even though here and there
the playing becomes a bit raggedy.  However, I really want to hear what
a first-class London orchestra would make of it.  The music of this
ballet deserves Tchaikovskian popularity and deluxe treatment.  At any
rate, kudos to Olympia for the Vainberg series in toto and for this disc
in particular.

Steve Schwartz