V. Opera of mixed genre type

Opera
The Legend of invisible city Kitezh and the maiden Fevronia

Bilibin's scenery
Composer
Libretto author(s)
Plot source

Old Russian legends

Genre
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Year of creation
First production
Place of first production

“The Tale of the Invisible City of Kitezh and the Maiden Fevronia” is the fourteenth opera by Russian composer Nikolai Andreevich Rimsky-Korsakov. The opera has four acts, six scenes. The plot is based on the late 18th century legend about the city of Kitezh. The libretto was compiled by the composer together with V.I. Belsky. On February 7 (20), the opera premiered on the stage of the Mariinsky Theater in St. Petersburg.

History of creation

The idea of ​​creating an opera based on the story of the city of Kitezh came to the composer long before its implementation. In the “Chronicle of My Musical Life” he mentions that in the winter of 1898/1899 and in 1900 he discussed with his librettist V.I. Belsky “the legend of the “Invisible City of Kitezh” in connection with the legend of St. Fevronia of Murom". From that moment on, the thought of creating an opera on this plot did not leave the composer and he made sketches for it. For example, in a letter to V.I. Belsky dated May 31, 1901, he wrote:

However, he could not get serious about creating this opera due to the lack of a libretto, and therefore he repeatedly hurried his librettist, as, for example, in a letter dated September 27, 1902:

And yet, almost another year passed before active work on creating music began in the summer of 1903. The joint work of the composer and librettist took place orally, so practically no materials about it have survived. However, it can be said with confidence that at all stages of work on the plot, the composer delved into all the details; in the text of the opera there was “not a single intention that would not have been approved by the composer.” At the same time, Rimsky-Korsakov’s close friends felt that before their eyes a work is being created that is unique in its depth of ethical issues, however, their high demands on the nascent creation caused the composer a feeling of annoyance. From the moment active composer work on the opera began, composing progressed quite quickly. The sketch was completed in July 1904, the orchestration was completed by October 1904, and at the same time an agreement was concluded with Belyaev’s company to publish the opera score. In the spring of 1906, work began on learning the opera at the Mariinsky Theater. The premiere took place on February 7, 1907 (this day coincided with the day of elections to the Second State Duma) and was a stunning success.

Text and plot sources

At the first turn to the plot of the future opera, two different folk legends turned out to be inextricably linked in the composer’s mind - about the invisible city of Kitezh and about Saint Fevronia of Murom. The authors' instincts sensed something essential in them that united them. However, as V.I. Belsky notes in the preface to the publication of the score, “for an extensive and complex stage work, the features scattered in these sources are not enough. For this reason, numerous and far-reaching additions were necessary, which, however, the author considered only as an attempt, from individual fragments and hints, to guess the whole hidden in the depths of the people’s spirit.” Further development of the plot was carried out using a huge collection of various materials. As a result, a work was born in which “there is not a single detail that was not in one way or another inspired by a feature of some legend, poem, conspiracy or other fruit of Russian folk art.” Sources for the text included:

  • “The Kitezh Chronicler”, reported by Meledin and printed in Bessonov’s notes to the IV edition of Kireyevsky’s collection of songs, there are also various oral traditions about the invisible city of Kitezh;
  • The Tale of Peter and Fevronia of Murom;
  • The Tale of Woe-Misfortune;
  • Melnikov-Pechersky P.I. “In the Woods”, novel;
  • Ipatiev and Laurentian Chronicles;
  • Korolenko V. G. “Svetloyar”, essay;
  • Maykov A. N. “The Wanderer,” dramatic sketch.

The resulting libretto is distinguished by its outstanding literary qualities. It was nominated by academician A.F. Koni for the Pushkin Prize and was rejected only on formal grounds (publication earlier than the deadlines established for receiving the prize).

Characters and premiere casts

Party Premiere in St. Petersburg
at the Mariinsky Theater
February 7, 1907
conductor Felix Blumenfeld
Premiere in Moscow
V Bolshoi Theater
February 15, 1908
conductor Vyacheslav Suk
Prince Yuri Vsevolodovich (bass) I. F. Filippov V. R. Petrov
Knyazhich Vsevolod Yurievich (tenor) A. M. Labinsky N. A. Rostovsky
Fevronia (soprano) M. N. Kuznetsova-Benoit N.V. Salina
Grishka Kuterma (tenor) I. V. Ershov A. P. Bonachich
Fedor Poyarok (baritone) V. S. Sharonov G. A. Baklanov
Youth (mezzo-soprano) M. E. Markovich E. G. Azerskaya
Best People: First (tenor) V. L. Karelin Stefanovich
Best People: 2nd (bass) N. S. Klimov V. S. Tyutyunnik
Guslyar (bass) V. I. Kastorsky N. P. Chistyakov
Bear (tenor) G. P. Ugrinovich Ilyushchenko
Beggar singer (baritone) N. F. Markevich I. N. Komarovsky
Bogatyr Tatar Burundai (bass) K. T. Serebryakov S. E. Trezvinsky
Bogatyr Tatar Bedyai (bass) I. S. Grigorovich H. V. Tolkachev
Bird of Paradise Sirin (soprano) N. I. Zabela M. G. Tsybuschenko
Bird of Paradise Alkonost (contralto) E. I. Zbrueva S. A. Sinitsyna
Princely archers, poezzhans, domrachi, the best people, poor brethren and other people. Tatars.

Plot

Act I

The opera opens with the introduction “In Praise of the Desert.” In the “desert” (more correctly “desert”) - that is, in an empty, deserted place, in a deep forest, young Fevronia lives with her brother, a tree frog, who extracts honey in the summer. Fevronia lives in peace and harmony with the forest, wild animals they come to her so that she can feed and care for them. Having gotten lost while hunting, Prince Vsevolod accidentally sees Fevronia. At first, he is afraid of her, like a forest ghost, but after making sure that there is a living girl in front of him, he strikes up a conversation, asking about her life. He is surprised by her smart and poetic words, her attitude towards nature as the “Church of God”, her conviction that human life should be “joyful”. She treats his hand, which was wounded in a fight with a bear. In the conversation, Vsevolod calls himself a princely hunter. He is struck by the wisdom and beauty of Fevronia, he exchanges rings with her, promises to send matchmakers and leaves. In search of Vsevolod, his warriors come to Fevronia, from them she learns that Vsevolod is a prince, the son of Prince Yuri.

Act II

In Maly Kitezh (Kerzhenets) people are waiting for the arrival of the prince's bride. The little bear and the bear entertain the audience (“Show me, Mikhailushko, show me, you silly one”). Guslyar sings an unexpectedly sad spiritual verse about tours and tourism. Meanwhile, a drunkard, Grishka Kuterma, falls out of the tavern. Local rich people (“the best people”) encourage him to laugh at Fevronia: they don’t like the fact that the prince is marrying a simple girl. The wedding train arrives with Fevronia. Grishka turns to her with envious ridicule, advising her “not to put on airs” and calling her “a bride from the swamp” who is wearing “a fur coat made of mouse tails.” Fevronia asks people not to offend Grishka, has a humble conversation with him and advises him to pray to God so as not to drink and not expose himself to people’s ridicule. In response, the drunkard again showers her with rudeness. The prince's servant, Fyodor Poyarok, tells the girls to sing a wedding song. The wedding ceremony begins. However, the song ends with noise and screams. People come running from afar in panic, they say that enemies have unexpectedly appeared, from whom there is no escape. Almost immediately after them, the Tatars enter the city and begin a bloody massacre. They want to find out the way to Great Kitezh, but people die without telling their enemies. The only one who agrees to reveal the secret is Grishka Kuterma. Only he and Fevronia remain alive, who is taken prisoner for her beauty.

Act III

Scene 1. Kitezh the Great. At midnight, all the people, from old to young, gathered with weapons in their hands outside the fence of the Assumption Cathedral. On the porch are Prince Yuri and Prince Vsevolod, with a squad around them. Everyone surrounded Fyodor Poyark, who stood with his head bowed, hand in hand with the Youth. It turns out that he was blinded by the Tatars. Everyone is shocked by his sad story about the national disaster and the fact that, according to rumors, Princess Fevronia herself is leading the Tatars to Great Kitezh. The people are depressed: “Oh, my heart is troubled, brethren! It wants to be a great disaster." The Prince sends the Youth to the bell tower to see from there “whether God is giving us a sign.” The youth runs into the bell tower and from there reports: “The dust rose in a column to the sky.” This is the Horde army rushing. The youth sees: “It’s as if the city of Kitezh is burning: the flames are burning, sparks are rushing,” - with these and other bloody details he talks about his vision. At the call of old Prince Yuri, the people offer prayers to the Queen of Heaven for their salvation. Prince Vsevolod steps forward. He asks his father to bless him and his squad for a feat of arms and sets out to meet the enemies. The prince loudly sings the warriors’ song “The squad rose from midnight.” Light, with a golden sheen, the fog quietly leaves the dark sky - at first transparent, then thicker and thicker. Anticipating their end, people say goodbye to each other. The church bells began to hum quietly of their own accord, heralding deliverance. Everyone is amazed and delighted that “God the Lord covers Kitezh with a veil” (as Prince Yuri says). Everything is shrouded in golden fog. While the stage is covered by a cloudy curtain (at this time the scenery is changing for the second scene), the symphonic picture “The Battle of Kerzhenets” sounds - an orchestral piece, often included in the programs of symphony concerts. With amazing strength and vividness of images, the composer depicts this unequal battle between the Kitezh people and the hordes of Tatars.

Picture 2. In the oak grove on the shore of Lake Svetly Yar, the darkness is impenetrable. The opposite bank, where Great Kitezh stands, is shrouded in thick fog. The chaos with the heroes Bedyai and Burundai, making their way through the thicket of bushes, comes out into a clearing leading to the lake. Gradually the rest of the Tatars converge. Carts of stolen goods are brought in. The Tatars suspect that Kuterma deliberately led them into an impassable thicket. Burundai and Bedyai tie Kuterma to a tree. A cart drives in with Fevronia sitting on it. The Tatars begin to divide the spoils. A dispute flares up between Burundai and Bedyai over who should own Fevronia. In the end, Burunday hits Bedyai on the head with an ax. The poor guy falls dead. There is silence for a moment, then the Tatars calmly continue dividing the spoils. Gradually, the Tatars are overcome by hops, and they fall asleep, each forgetting about his share. Burundai takes Fevronia to his place, lies down on the carpet, makes her sit down and tries to console her, pulls her towards him and hugs her. Soon he too falls asleep. The whole camp is sleeping. Fevronia leaves Burundai. She weeps bitterly about her dead fiancé (“Oh, you are my dear fiancé, hope!”). Fevronia is called out by Grishka Kuterma (he is here, nearby, tied to a tree). Having betrayed his native land to the enemy, he is tormented by remorse. Fevronia recognizes him and comes closer. Grishka begs her to untie him. Fevronia is afraid that she will be executed for this. Grishka admonishes her and himself, in turn, asks her why she should take care of her life, because of the princely people (her current relatives) not even a dozen will be alive. And if they are alive, then God forbid. Why “God forbid?” - Fevronia asks him. And he admits that he said to her that she led the Tatar army to Kitezh. In horror, Fevronia covers her face with her hands: “Grisha, aren’t you the Antichrist?” - she asks. She frees him so that he can atone for the sin of betrayal. He wants to run, but cannot: he hears a bell ringing; “languid fear fills the heart...” He wants to run, but he staggers, falls face down and lies motionless for some time. Then he gets up and with desperate determination rushes to the lake to drown himself. And suddenly he stops at the shore, rooted to the spot: the first rays of dawn illuminate the surface of the lake and the reflection of the capital city in the lake under the empty shore. A festive ringing can be heard, gradually becoming louder and more solemn. Kuterma rushes back to Fevronia, pointing to the lake in insane surprise: “Where the demon was, there are gods now; where God was, there was nothing!” With a wild cry, Kuterma disappears into the thicket of the forest, dragging Fevronia with her. Kuterma's cry woke up the Tatars. They see a vision in the lake. They are amazed: “A miracle, an incomprehensible miracle!” They are attacked by unaccountable fear. Having forgotten about everything, they flee in horror from the terrible place.

ACT IV

Picture 1. dark night . A dense thicket in the Kerzhen forests. An uprooted spruce tree lies across the stage. In the depths there is a clearing and in it a moss-covered swamp. Here Fevronia makes her way in a torn dress; she is followed by the insane Grishka Kuterma. Exhausted, she sits on a tree trunk. Grishka makes crazy speeches: he speaks to her either brazenly and with his arms akimbo, or pitifully, like a beggar. Fevronia meekly reasons with him: “Don’t mock, come to your senses; remember what sin you have committed.” Grishka is tormented by remorse. He either sobs, then pesters Fevronia like a child, then kneels down, looking around in fear, then hastily jumps up, dances madly and whistles. He calms down for a moment. In the end, with a wild cry, he runs away into the dense thicket. Fevronia was left alone. She lies down on the grass. The trees are gradually covered with bright, bizarre-looking emerald green. Fevronia plunges into a blissful state: her fatigue and pain have passed. She sings a lullaby to herself: “Bai, byi, sleep, sleep, sleep, little heart, rest.” Wax candles light up everywhere on tree branches; Huge unprecedented flowers grow on the trees and from the ground: golden kryzhanty, silver and scarlet roses, string, iris and others. The passage to the swamp remains open. Fevronia sings about her admiration for this whole view. The voices of birds of paradise predict peace and happiness for her. She gets up, goes forward; the branches bow to her. It seems to her that spring has come again: “All the swamps have blossomed, all the trees have become beautiful.” Among the birds, Alkonost’s voice stands out: “Strengthen yourself with hope, with undoubted faith: everything will be forgotten, time will end.” From the depths of the clearing, through a swamp strewn with flowers, as if on dry land, the ghost of Prince Vsevolod slowly walks, illuminated by a golden radiance, barely touching the soil with his feet. Fevronia, again full of strength, rushes to him. The ghost addresses her with a greeting: “Have fun, my bride, have fun! The groom has come for you." The ghost consoles Fevronia. The voice of another bird of paradise, Sirin, is heard: “Behold, the groom has come, why are you delaying?” “Lord Jesus, accept me and place me in the villages of the righteous.” And so the young people, hand in hand, slowly walk away through the swamp, barely touching the ground. The transition to the second picture is another - this time an orchestral-vocal one (here the voices of birds of paradise, Sirin and Alkonost are heard behind the stage) - a sound picture by N.A. Rimsky-Korsakov. It begins immediately after the end of the first picture (as if pouring out of it) and directly passes into the second picture. The composer's remark clarifies (this became the name of this intermission): “Walking into the invisible city.” Against the backdrop of a radiant, majestic procession and joyful chimes, the intricate singing of birds of paradise sounds.

Picture 2. The author’s remark characterizing the invisible hail is as follows: “The cloud is dissipating. The city of Kitezh has been wonderfully transformed. Near the western gate is the Assumption Cathedral and the prince's courtyard. Tall bell towers, fires on the walls, intricate towers and tumblers of white stone and condensed wood. The carving is decorated with pearls; painting in blue, ash and blue-scarlet colors, with all the transitions that occur on clouds. The light is bright, bluish-white and even on all sides, as if casting no shadow. To the left, opposite the gate, are the prince's mansions; The porch is guarded by a lion and a unicorn with silver fur. Sirin and Alkonost - birds of paradise with unfeminine faces - sing while sitting on the knitting needles. A crowd in white worldly robes with heavenly krins and lit candles in their hands; Among the crowd is Poyarok, the sighted one, and the Youth, who was his guide. This is where Fevronia ended up. The people greet her and the prince. Fevronia does not remember herself from amazement; she walks around the square, looking at everything, and claps her hands in delight. The people surround the prince and Fevronia and sing a wedding song to the sounds of the harp and paradise pipe, throwing flowers, roses and blue killer whales at their feet. Fevronia does not understand to whom the wedding song is being sung, whose wedding it is. Then the prince says to her: “It’s ours, my dear.” Prince Yuri appears on the princely porch. Fevronia greets the prince as her father-in-law's daughter-in-law. A large ensemble sounds, in which all the main characters participate - Prince Yuri, Prince Vsevolod, Fevronia, the birds of paradise Sirin and Alkonost sing with them, Otrok and Poyarok join, and finally the whole choir (“Be with us here forever”). Prince Vsevolod invites Fevronia to church (“Oh, you, faithful bride, it’s time for us to go to the Church of God”). At this moment, Fevronia remembers Grishka: “Grishenka remained there in the forest.” Fevronia wants to send him a letter, “a small consolation for Grisha.” Poyarok is ready to write it. Fevronia dictates; she describes Kitezh, which did not fall, but disappeared, tells him that they did not die, but are alive, and they live in a wondrous city. “Who will enter this city?” - Fevronia asks Prince Yuri. “Anyone who does not have a split mind would prefer to live in the city,” Yuri replies. (The scene of Fevronia’s letter to Kuterma, according to the tradition of the first productions of the opera, is usually released. This runs counter to the categorical demand of the author expressed regarding the production of the opera: “I cannot agree to omit the scene of the letter to Kuterma in the last film. There were conversations about this in St. Petersburg Fevronia’s letter is the culmination of her entire image. Fevronia, who has achieved bliss, remembers and cares about her fierce enemy and destroyer of Great Kitezh. Let the listeners delve into this, and not treat the last scene of the opera as an apotheosis” (from Rimsky-Korsakov’s letter to the conductor of the first. staging of the opera in Moscow in 1908 V. I. Suku). Finally, the letter is written, and the young people, accompanied by solemn singing and ringing of bells, slowly and majestically march into the cathedral to the crown.

  • The idea for the opera arose from Rimsky-Korsakov while working on the opera “The Tale of Tsar Saltan.”
  • Rimsky-Korsakov looked at Kitezh as the culmination of his work, and for some time he thought about allowing the opera to be published and staged only after his death.
  • This opera is a rare example of a triple alteration of musical sound (three times sharp). The sign is used around the number 220 in the score.
  • During the times of Tsarist Russia, it was strictly forbidden to bring saints onto the stage, and initially the heroine of the opera was supposed to be called Alyonushka, but for Rimsky-Korsakov’s opera an exception was made and the heroine retained the name Fevronia.
  • Such characters as the mysterious birds of paradise - Sirin and Alkonost - appear in the opera. They are also depicted in the famous painting by V. M. Vasnetsov “Sirin and Alkonost. Song of Joy and Sorrow" (1896), which probably inspired the authors of the opera to introduce these characters into the plot.

Productions

  • February 7, 1907 - Mariinsky Theater (conductor Felix Blumenfeld, director Vasily Shkafer, artists Konstantin Korovin and Vasnetsov; Yuri Vsevolodovich - Ivan Burchardt, Vsevolod - Andrei Labinsky, Fevronia - Maria Kuznetsova-Benois, Grishka Kuterma - Ivan Ershov, Fyodor Poyarok - Vasily Sharonov, Otrok - Maria Markovich, Medvedchik - Grigory Ugrinovich, Bedyay - Ivan Grigorovich, Burundai - Konstantin Serebryakov, Sirin - Nadezhda Zabela-Vrubel, Alkonost - Evgenia Zbrueva, Guslyar - Vladimir Kastorsky);
  • 1908 - Bolshoi Theater (conductor Vyacheslav Suk, director Joseph Lapitsky, artists Korovin, Mikhail Klodt, Vasnetsov; Yuri Vsevolodovich - Vasily Petrov, Vsevolod - Nikolai Rostovsky, Fevronia - Nadezhda Salina, Grishka Kuterma - Anton Bonachich, Poyarok - Georgy Baklanov, Otrok - Elizaveta Azerskaya, Burundai - Stepan Trezvinsky);
  • 1916 - Bolshoi Theater, revived. (conductor Vyacheslav Suk, director Pyotr Olenin, artists Korovin, Klodt, Vnukov and Petrov).
  • November 15, 1918 - Petrograd Opera and Ballet Theater (conductor Coates, director Melnikov, artists Korovin, Ovchinnikov and Vnukov; Yuri Vsevolodovich - Filippov, Vsevolod - Bolshakov, Fevronia - Nikolaeva, Grishka Kuterma - Ershov, Poyarok - Andreev, Medvedchik - Ugrinovich, Bedyai - Belyanin, Burundai - I. Grigorovich, Sirin - Kovalenko, Alkonost - Panina, Guslyar - Grokholsky)
  • 1926 - Bolshoi Theater (conductor Suk, post. Rappoport, artists Korovin, Klodt, Vasnetsov; Yuri Vsevolodovich - V. Petrov, Vsevolod - Bogdanovich, Fevronia - Derzhinskaya, Grishka Kuterma - Ozerov, Poyarok - Savransky, Otrok - Antarova, Guslyar - Nortsov , Bedyay - Lubentsov, Sirin - Katulskaya, Alkonost - Petrova);
  • 1934 - Bolshoi Theater (conductor Golovanov, director Nardov, artists Korovin and Fedorov, choreographer Avranek; Yuri Vsevolodovich - Mikhailov, Vsevolod - Fedotov, Fevronia - Kruglikova, Grishka Kuterma - Ozerov, Poyarok - I. Burlak (Streltsov)).
  • 1955 - in concert performance in Moscow (conductor Samosud) and Leningrad (conductor Grikurov).
  • 1958 - Opera and Ballet Theater named after. Kirov (conductor Yeltsin, director Sokovnin, artistic director Yunovich, choreographer A. Mikhailov).
  • 1949 - Latvian Opera and Ballet Theater. SSR (conductor Glazup, post. Vasilyeva, art director Lapin, choreographer Vanag); 1962, ibid.
  • 1983 - Bolshoi Theater of the USSR (conductor E. F. Svetlanov, stage director R. I. Tikhomirov, artists I. S. Glazunov and N. A. Vinogradova-Benois, Fevronia - Kazarnovskaya).
  • 2001 - Mariinsky Theater (conductor - Valery Gergiev, director and set designer - Dmitry Chernyakov)
  • 2008 - Bolshoi Theater (conductor - Alexander Vedernikov, director - Eimuntas Nekrosius, artist - Marius Nekrosius

Abroad:

  • Barcelona (1926, January 2, in Russian)
  • London (1926, concert performance in Russian, Covent Garden Theater)
  • Paris (1926, concert performance in Russian; 1929, in Russian)
  • Riga (1926)
  • Buenos Aires (1929.in Russian)
  • Milan (1933, La Scala)
  • Brno (1934)
  • Duisburg (1935)
  • Zagreb (1935)
  • Philadelphia and New York (1936, in Russian)
  • Kaunas (1936)
  • Berlin (1937)
  • Prague (1938)
  • Brussels (1939, concert performance in Russian)
  • London (1951, concert performance - conductor Dobrowein)
  • Milan (1951, conductor La Scala - conductor Dobrowein, dir. Dobrowein)
  • Rome (1960) and others.
  • 2012 - Netherlands Opera, Amsterdam. director and set designer - Dmitry Chernyakov
  • 2014 - Liceu, Barcelona. director and set designer Dmitry Chernyakov

Posts

Audio recordings

Godka Organization Conductor Soloists Publisher and catalog number Title text
1955 All-Union Radio Choir and Orchestra Samuil Samosud Prince Yuri- Alexander Vedernikov, Knyazhich Vsevolod- Vladimir Ivanovsky, Fevronia- Natalya Rozhdestvenskaya, Grishka Kuterma- Dmitry Tarkhov, Fedor Poyarok- Ilya Bogdanov, Youth- Lydia Melnikova, Guslyar- Boris Dobrin, Bear- Pavel Pontryagin, Poor guy- Leonid Ktitorov, Burunday- Sergey Krasovsky, Alkonost- Nina Kulagina Not published?
1956 Bolshoi Theater Choir and Orchestra Vasily Nebolsin Prince Yuri- Ivan Petrov, Knyazhich Vsevolod- Vladimir Ivanovsky, Fevronia- Natalya Rozhdestvenskaya, Grishka Kuterma- Dmitry Tarkhov, Fedor Poyarok- Ilya Bogdanov, Youth- Lydia Melnikova, The best people- Veniamin Shevtsov and Sergey Koltypin, Guslyar- Boris Dobrin, Bear- Tikhon Chernyakov, Started the song- Mikhail Skazin, Poor guy- Leonid Ktitorov, Burunday- Gennady Troitsky, Sirin- Maria Zvezdina, Alkonost- Nina Kulagina D 06489-96 (1960)
1983 Bolshoi Theater Choir and Orchestra Evgeniy Svetlanov Prince Yuri- Yuri Statnik, Knyazhich Vsevolod- Pavel Kudryavchenko, Fevronia- Makvala Kasrashvili, Grishka Kuterma- Alexey Maslennikov, Fedor Poyarok- Yuri Grigoriev, Youth- Tatyana Erastova, The best people- Konstantin Pustovoy and Mikhail Krutikov, Guslyar- Lion of Vernigor, Bear- Konstantin Baskov, Started the song- Vladimir Bukin, Poor guy- Nikolay Nizienko, Burunday- Valery Yaroslavtsev, Sirin- Irina Zhurina, Alkonost- Raisa Kotova Melody

S10 23807-14 (1986)

1994 Choir and orchestra of the Mariinsky Theater Valery Gergiev Prince Yuri- Nikolay Okhotnikov, Knyazhich Vsevolod- Yuri Marusin, Fevronia- Galina Gorchakova, Grishka Kuterma- Vladimir Galuzin, Fedor Poyarok- Nikolai Putilin, Youth- Olga Korzhenskaya, The best people- Evgeny Boytsov and Evgeny Fedotov, Guslyar- Mikhail Keith, Bear- Nikolay Gassiev, Poor guy-Bulat Minzhelkiev, Burunday- Vladimir Ognovenko, Sirin- Tatyana Kravtsova, Alkonost-Larisa Dyadkova Philips

462 225-2 (1999)

1995 Vienna Symphony Orchestra Vladimir Fedoseev Prince Yuri- Pavel Danilyuk, Knyazhich Vsevolod- Sergey Naida, Fevronia- Elena Prokina, Grishka Kuterma- Vladimir Galuzin, Fedor Poyarok- Samson Izyumov, Youth- Nina Romanova, The best people- Alexey Shestov and Mikhail Nikiforov, Guslyar- Oleg Zhdanov, Poor guy- Movsar Mintsaev, Burunday- Vladimir Vaneev, Sirin- Victoria Lukyanets, Alkonost- Alexandra Durseneva Koch Schwann 3-1144-2
1995 Choir and orchestra of the Yekaterinburg Opera and Ballet Theater Evgeniy Brazhnik Prince Yuri- Vitaly Mogilin, Knyazhich Vsevolod- Vitaly Petrov, Fevronia- Elena Borisevich, Grishka Kuterma- Anatoly Borisevich, Fedor Poyarok- Andrey Vylegzhanin, Youth- Svetlana Pastukhova, The best people- Joseph Rosnovsky and Stanislav Borovkov, Guslyar- Mikhail Nikiforov, Bear- Vladimir Ryzhkov, Poor guy- German Kuklin, Burunday- Sergey Vyalkov, Sirin- Lyudmila Shilova, Alkonost- Nadezhda Shlyapnikova Not published?
2008 Teatro Lirico di Cagliari Alexander Vedernikov Prince Yuri- Vsevolod Kazakov, Knyazhich Vsevolod- Vitaly Panfilov, Fevronia- Tatyana Monogarova, Grishka Kuterma- Mikhail Gubsky, Fedor Poyarok- Gevork Hakobyan, Youth- Valery Gulordava, The best people- Jankula Floris and Marek Kalbus, Guslyar- Ricardo Ferrari, Bear- Stefano Consolini, Poor guy- Valery Gilmanov, Burunday- Alexander Naumenko, Sirin- Rosanna Savoie, Alkonost- Elena Manikhina Premiere Opera Ltd. CDNO 3027-3

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An excerpt characterizing the Legend of the Invisible City of Kitezh and the Maiden Fevronia

He walked into another room, and from there the bassy and grumbling sounds of his voice were immediately heard.

Before Prince Andrei had time to follow Pfuel with his eyes, Count Bennigsen hurriedly entered the room and, nodding his head to Bolkonsky, without stopping, walked into the office, giving some orders to his adjutant. The Emperor was following him, and Bennigsen hurried forward to prepare something and have time to meet the Emperor. Chernyshev and Prince Andrey went out onto the porch. The Emperor got off his horse with a tired look. Marquis Paulucci said something to the sovereign. The Emperor, bowing his head to the left, listened with a dissatisfied look to Paulucci, who spoke with particular fervor. The Emperor moved forward, apparently wanting to end the conversation, but the flushed, excited Italian, forgetting decency, followed him, continuing to say:
“Quant a celui qui a conseille ce camp, le camp de Drissa, [As for the one who advised the Drissa camp,” said Paulucci, while the sovereign, entering the steps and noticing Prince Andrei, peered into an unfamiliar face .
– Quant a celui. Sire,” continued Paulucci with despair, as if unable to resist, “qui a conseille le camp de Drissa, je ne vois pas d"autre alternative que la maison jaune ou le gibet. [As for, sir, up to that man , who advised the camp at Drisei, then, in my opinion, there are only two places for him: the yellow house or the gallows.] - Without listening to the end and as if not hearing the words of the Italian, the sovereign, recognizing Bolkonsky, graciously turned to him:
“I’m very glad to see you, go to where they gathered and wait for me.” - The Emperor went into the office. Prince Pyotr Mikhailovich Volkonsky, Baron Stein, followed him, and the doors closed behind them. Prince Andrei, using the permission of the sovereign, went with Paulucci, whom he knew back in Turkey, into the living room where the council was meeting.
Prince Pyotr Mikhailovich Volkonsky served as the sovereign's chief of staff. Volkonsky left the office and, bringing cards into the living room and laying them out on the table, conveyed the questions on which he wanted to hear the opinions of the assembled gentlemen. The fact was that during the night news was received (later turned out to be false) about the movement of the French around the Drissa camp.
General Armfeld began to speak first, unexpectedly, in order to avoid the difficulty that had arisen, proposing a completely new, inexplicable position away from the St. Petersburg and Moscow roads, on which, in his opinion, the army should have united and await the enemy. It was clear that this plan had been drawn up by Armfeld long ago and that he now presented it not so much with the aim of answering the proposed questions, which this plan did not answer, but with the aim of taking advantage of the opportunity to express it. This was one of the millions of assumptions that could be made just as well as others without any idea of ​​what character the war would take. Some disputed his opinion, some defended it. The young Colonel Toll, more ardently than others, disputed the opinion of the Swedish general and during the dispute took out side pocket a covered notebook, which he asked permission to read. In a lengthy note, Toll proposed a different campaign plan, completely contrary to both Armfeld’s plan and Pfuel’s plan. Paulucci, objecting to Tol, proposed a plan for moving forward and attacking, which alone, according to him, could lead us out of the unknown and the trap, as he called the Drissky camp, in which we were located. Pfuhl and his translator Wolzogen (his bridge in court relations) remained silent during these disputes. Pfuhl only snorted contemptuously and turned away, showing that he would never stoop to object to the nonsense that he was now hearing. But when Prince Volkonsky, who led the debate, called him to express his opinion, he only said:
- Why ask me? General Armfeld proposed an excellent position with an open rear. Or attack von diesem italienischen Herrn, sehr schon! [this Italian gentleman, very good! (German)] Or retreat. Auch gut. [Also good (German)] Why ask me? - he said. – After all, you yourself know everything better than me. - But when Volkonsky, frowning, said that he was asking his opinion on behalf of the sovereign, Pfuel stood up and, suddenly animated, began to say:
- They ruined everything, confused everything, everyone wanted to know better than me, and now they came to me: how to fix it? Nothing to fix. Everything must be carried out exactly according to the principles I have laid out,” he said, banging his bony fingers on the table. – What is the difficulty? Nonsense, Kinder spiel. [children's toys (German)] - He went up to the map and began to speak quickly, pointing his dry finger at the map and proving that no accident could change the expediency of the Dris camp, that everything was foreseen and that if the enemy really goes around, then the enemy must inevitably be destroyed.
Paulucci, who did not know German, began asking him in French. Wolzogen came to the aid of his principal, who spoke little French, and began to translate his words, barely keeping up with Pfuel, who quickly proved that everything, everything, not only what happened, but everything that could happen, was all foreseen in his plan, and that if there were difficulties now, then the whole fault was only in the fact that everything was not executed exactly. He laughed ironically incessantly, argued, and finally contemptuously gave up proving, just as a mathematician gives up verifying in various ways the correctness of a problem that has once been proven. Wolzogen replaced him, continuing to express his thoughts in French and occasionally saying to Pfuel: “Nicht wahr, Exellenz?” [Isn't that true, Your Excellency? (German)] Pfuhl, like a hot man in battle hitting his own, shouted angrily at Wolzogen:
– Nun ja, was soll denn da noch expliziert werden? [Well, yes, what else is there to interpret? (German)] - Paulucci and Michaud attacked Wolzogen in French in two voices. Armfeld addressed Pfuel in German. Tol explained it in Russian to Prince Volkonsky. Prince Andrei silently listened and observed.
Of all these persons, the embittered, decisive and stupidly self-confident Pfuel most excited the participation of Prince Andrei. He alone, of all the people present here, obviously did not want anything for himself, did not harbor enmity towards anyone, but wanted only one thing - to put into action the plan drawn up according to the theory he had developed over years of work. He was funny, unpleasant in his irony, but at the same time he inspired involuntary respect with his boundless devotion to the idea. In addition, in all the speeches of all the speakers, with the exception of Pfuel, there was one common feature, which was not present at the military council in 1805, was now, although hidden, a panicky fear of the genius of Napoleon, a fear that was expressed in every objection. They assumed everything was possible for Napoleon, waited for him from all sides, and with his terrible name they destroyed each other’s assumptions. Only Pfuhl, it seemed, considered him, Napoleon, to be the same barbarian as all the opponents of his theory. But, in addition to a feeling of respect, Pfuhl instilled in Prince Andrei a feeling of pity. From the tone with which the courtiers treated him, from what Paulucci allowed himself to say to the emperor, but most importantly from the somewhat desperate expression of Pfuel himself, it was clear that others knew and he himself felt that his fall was close. And, despite his self-confidence and German grumpy irony, he was pitiful with his smoothed hair at the temples and tassels sticking out at the back of his head. Apparently, although he hid it under the guise of irritation and contempt, he was in despair because now the only opportunity to test it through vast experience and prove to the whole world the correctness of his theory eluded him.
The debate continued for a long time, and the longer it continued, the more the disputes flared up, reaching the point of shouting and personalities, and the less it was possible to draw any general conclusion from everything that was said. Prince Andrei, listening to this multilingual conversation and these assumptions, plans and refutations and shouts, was only surprised at what they all said. Those thoughts that had long and often occurred to him during his military activities, that there is and cannot be any military science and therefore there cannot be any so-called military genius, now received for him the complete evidence of the truth. “What kind of theory and science could there be in a matter in which the conditions and circumstances are unknown and cannot be determined, in which the strength of the war actors can be even less determined? No one could and cannot know what the position of our and the enemy’s army will be in a day, and no one can know what the strength of this or that detachment will be. Sometimes, when there is no coward in front who will shout: “We are cut off!” - and he will run, and there is a cheerful, brave man in front who will shout: “Hurray! - a detachment of five thousand is worth thirty thousand, as at Shepgraben, and sometimes fifty thousand flee before eight, as at Austerlitz. What kind of science can there be in such a matter, in which, as in any practical matter, nothing can be determined and everything depends on countless conditions, the meaning of which is determined in one minute, about which no one knows when it will come. Armfeld says that our army is cut off, and Paulucci says that we have placed the French army between two fires; Michaud says that the disadvantage of the Dris camp is that the river is behind, and Pfuel says that this is its strength. Toll proposes one plan, Armfeld proposes another; and everyone is good, and everyone is bad, and the benefits of any situation can only be obvious at the moment when the event occurs. And why does everyone say: a military genius? Is the person who manages to order the delivery of crackers in time and go to the right, to the left, a genius? It is only because military men are invested with splendor and power, and the masses of scoundrels flatter the authorities, giving it unusual qualities of genius, that they are called geniuses. On the contrary, the best generals I have known are stupid or absent-minded people. The best Bagration, - Napoleon himself admitted this. And Bonaparte himself! I remember his smug and limited face on the Austerlitz Field. Not only does a good commander not need genius or any special qualities, but, on the contrary, he needs the absence of the best highest, human qualities - love, poetry, tenderness, philosophical inquisitive doubt. He must be limited, firmly convinced that what he is doing is very important (otherwise he will lack patience), and only then will he be a brave commander. God forbid, if he is a person, he will love someone, feel sorry for him, think about what is fair and what is not. It is clear that from time immemorial the theory of geniuses was falsified for them, because they are the authorities. The credit for the success of military affairs does not depend on them, but on the person in the ranks who shouts: lost, or shouts: hurray! And only in these ranks can you serve with confidence that you are useful!“
So Prince Andrey thought, listening to the talk, and woke up only when Paulucci called him and everyone was already leaving.
The next day, at the review, the sovereign asked Prince Andrei where he wanted to serve, and Prince Andrei lost himself forever in the court world, not asking to remain with the sovereign’s person, but asking permission to serve in the army.

Before the opening of the campaign, Rostov received a letter from his parents, in which, briefly informing him about Natasha’s illness and about the break with Prince Andrei (this break was explained to him by Natasha’s refusal), they again asked him to resign and come home. Nikolai, having received this letter, did not try to ask for leave or resignation, but wrote to his parents that he was very sorry about Natasha’s illness and breakup with her fiancé and that he would do everything possible to fulfill their wishes. He wrote to Sonya separately.
“Dear friend of my soul,” he wrote. “Nothing but honor could keep me from returning to the village.” But now, before the opening of the campaign, I would consider myself dishonest not only to all my comrades, but also to myself, if I preferred my happiness to my duty and love for the fatherland. But this is the last parting. Believe that immediately after the war, if I am alive and everyone loves you, I will drop everything and fly to you to press you forever to my fiery chest.”
Indeed, only the opening of the campaign delayed Rostov and prevented him from coming - as he promised - and marrying Sonya. Otradnensky autumn with hunting and winter with Christmastide and Sonya's love opened to him the prospect of quiet noble joys and tranquility, which he had not known before and which now beckoned him to themselves. “A nice wife, children, a good pack of hounds, dashing ten to twelve packs of greyhounds, a household, neighbors, election service! - he thought. But now there was a campaign, and it was necessary to remain in the regiment. And since this was necessary, Nikolai Rostov, by his nature, was satisfied with the life that he led in the regiment, and managed to make this life pleasant for himself.
Arriving from vacation, joyfully greeted by his comrades, Nikolai was sent for repairs and brought excellent horses from Little Russia, which delighted him and earned him praise from his superiors. In his absence, he was promoted to captain, and when the regiment was put under martial law with an increased complement, he again received his former squadron.
The campaign began, the regiment was moved to Poland, double pay was given, new officers, new people, horses arrived; and, most importantly, that excitedly cheerful mood that accompanies the beginning of war spread; and Rostov, aware of his advantageous position in the regiment, completely devoted himself to the pleasures and interests of military service, although he knew that sooner or later he would have to leave them.
The troops retreated from Vilna for various complex state, political and tactical reasons. Each step of retreat was accompanied by a complex interplay of interests, conclusions and passions in the main headquarters. For the hussars of the Pavlograd regiment, this entire retreat campaign, in the best part of summer, with sufficient food, was the simplest and most fun thing. They could become despondent, worry and intrigue in the main apartment, but in the deep army they did not ask themselves where and why they were going. If they regretted retreating, it was only because they had to leave a comfortable apartment, a pretty lady. If it occurred to someone that things were bad, then, as a good military man should, the one to whom it occurred to him tried to be cheerful and not think about the general course of affairs, but think about his immediate business. At first they cheerfully stood near Vilna, making acquaintances with Polish landowners and waiting and serving inspections of the sovereign and other senior commanders. Then the order came to retreat to the Sventsyans and destroy the provisions that could not be taken away. Sventsyany was remembered by the hussars only because it was a drunken camp, as the whole army called the Sventsyany camp, and because in Sventsyany there were many complaints against the troops because, taking advantage of the order to take away provisions, they also took horses among the provisions, and carriages and carpets from the Polish gentlemen. Rostov remembered Sventsyany because on the first day of entering this place he replaced the sergeant and could not cope with all the men of the squadron who had drunk too much, who, without his knowledge, took away five barrels of old beer. From Sventsyan they retreated further and further to Drissa, and again retreated from Drissa, already approaching the Russian borders.
On July 13, the residents of Pavlograd had to deal with serious business for the first time.
On the night of July 12, the night before the case, there was a strong storm with rain and thunderstorms. The summer of 1812 was generally remarkable for storms.
The two Pavlograd squadrons stood in bivouacs, among a rye field that had already been knocked out to the ground by cattle and horses. The rain was pouring down heavily, and Rostov and the young officer Ilyin, who was his patron, sat under a hastily fenced hut. An officer of their regiment, with a long mustache extending from his cheeks, was on his way to headquarters and, caught in the rain, came to Rostov.
- I, Count, am from headquarters. Have you heard of Raevsky’s feat? - And the officer told the details of the Saltanovsky battle, which he heard at headquarters.
Rostov, shaking his neck, behind which water was flowing, smoked his pipe and listened inattentively, occasionally glancing at the young officer Ilyin, who was huddling next to him. This officer, a sixteen-year-old boy who had recently joined the regiment, was now in relation to Nikolai what Nikolai was in relation to Denisov seven years ago. Ilyin tried to imitate Rostov in everything and, like a woman, was in love with him.
An officer with a double mustache, Zdrzhinsky, spoke pompously about how the Saltanov Dam was the Thermopylae of the Russians, how on this dam General Raevsky committed an act worthy of antiquity. Zdrzhinsky told the story of Raevsky, who led his two sons to the dam under terrible fire and went on the attack next to them. Rostov listened to the story and not only did not say anything to confirm Zdrzhinsky’s delight, but, on the contrary, had the appearance of a man who was ashamed of what was being told to him, although he did not intend to object. Rostov, after the Austerlitz and 1807 campaigns, knew from his own experience that when telling military incidents, people always lie, just as he himself lied when telling them; secondly, he was so experienced that he knew how everything happens in war, not at all the way we can imagine and tell. And therefore he did not like Zdrzhinsky’s story, and he did not like Zdrzhinsky himself, who, with his mustache from his cheeks, according to his habit, bent low over the face of the one to whom he was telling, and crowded him into a cramped hut. Rostov looked at him silently. “Firstly, at the dam that was attacked, there must have been such confusion and crowding that even if Raevsky brought his sons out, it could not have affected anyone except about ten people who were near him, - thought Rostov, - the rest could not see how and with whom Raevsky walked along the dam. But even those who saw this could not be very inspired, because what did they care about Raevsky’s tender parental feelings when it was about their own skin? Then, the fate of the fatherland did not depend on whether the Saltanov dam was taken or not, as they describe it to us about Thermopylae. And therefore, why was it necessary to make such a sacrifice? And then, why bother your children here, during the war? Not only would I not take Petya with my brother, I would not even take Ilyin, even this stranger to me, but a good boy, I would try to put him somewhere under protection,” Rostov continued to think, listening to Zdrzhinsky. But he did not say his thoughts: he already had experience in this. He knew that this story contributed to the glorification of our weapons, and therefore he had to pretend that he did not doubt him. That's what he did.
“However, there is no urine,” said Ilyin, who noticed that Rostov did not like Zdrzhinsky’s conversation. - And the stockings, and the shirt, and it leaked under me. I'll go look for shelter. The rain seems to be lighter. – Ilyin came out, and Zdrzhinsky left.
Five minutes later, Ilyin, splashing through the mud, ran to the hut.
- Hooray! Rostov, let's go quickly. Found it! There’s a tavern about two hundred paces away, and our guys got there. At least we’ll dry off, and Marya Genrikhovna will be there.
Marya Genrikhovna was the wife of the regimental doctor, a young, pretty German woman, whom the doctor married in Poland. The doctor, either because he did not have the means, or because he did not want to be separated from his young wife at first during his marriage, took her everywhere with him in the hussar regiment, and the doctor’s jealousy became an ordinary object jokes between hussar officers.
Rostov threw on his raincoat, called Lavrushka with his things behind him and went with Ilyin, sometimes rolling in the mud, sometimes splashing in the subsiding rain, in the darkness of the evening, occasionally broken by distant lightning.
- Rostov, where are you?
- Here. What lightning! - they were talking.

In the abandoned tavern, in front of which stood the doctor’s tent, there were already about five officers. Marya Genrikhovna, a plump, fair-haired German woman in a blouse and nightcap, was sitting in the front corner on a wide bench. Her husband, a doctor, was sleeping behind her. Rostov and Ilyin, greeted with cheerful exclamations and laughter, entered the room.
- AND! “What fun you are having,” Rostov said, laughing.
- Why are you yawning?
- Good! That's how it flows from them! Don't wet our living room.
“You can’t dirty Marya Genrikhovna’s dress,” the voices answered.
Rostov and Ilyin hurried to find a corner where they could change their wet dress without disturbing Marya Genrikhovna’s modesty. They went behind the partition to change clothes; but in a small closet, filling it completely, with one candle on an empty box, three officers were sitting, playing cards, and did not want to give up their place for anything. Marya Genrikhovna gave up her skirt for a while to use it instead of a curtain, and behind this curtain Rostov and Ilyin, with the help of Lavrushka, who brought packs, took off the wet dress and put on a dry dress.
A fire was lit in the broken stove. They took out a board and, having supported it on two saddles, covered it with a blanket, took out a samovar, a cellar and half a bottle of rum, and, asking Marya Genrikhovna to be the hostess, everyone crowded around her. Some offered her a clean handkerchief to wipe her lovely hands, some put a Hungarian coat under her feet so that it wouldn’t be damp, some curtained the window with a cloak so that it wouldn’t blow, some brushed the flies off her husband’s face so he wouldn’t wake up.
“Leave him alone,” said Marya Genrikhovna, smiling timidly and happily, “he’s already sleeping well after a sleepless night.”
“You can’t, Marya Genrikhovna,” the officer answered, “you have to serve the doctor.” That’s it, maybe he’ll feel sorry for me when he starts cutting my leg or arm.
There were only three glasses; the water was so dirty that it was impossible to decide whether the tea was strong or weak, and in the samovar there was only enough water for six glasses, but it was all the more pleasant, in turn and by seniority, to receive your glass from Marya Genrikhovna’s plump hands with short, not entirely clean, nails . All the officers seemed to really be in love with Marya Genrikhovna that evening. Even those officers who were playing cards behind the partition soon abandoned the game and moved on to the samovar, obeying the general mood of courting Marya Genrikhovna. Marya Genrikhovna, seeing herself surrounded by such brilliant and courteous youth, beamed with happiness, no matter how hard she tried to hide it and no matter how obviously shy she was at every sleepy movement of her husband, who was sleeping behind her.
There was only one spoon, there was more sugar, but there was no time to stir it, and therefore it was decided that she would stir the sugar for everyone in turn. Rostov, having received his glass and poured rum into it, asked Marya Genrikhovna to stir it.
- But you don’t have sugar? - she said, all smiling, as if everything that she said, and everything that others said, was very funny and had another meaning.
- Yes, I don’t need sugar, I just want you to stir it with your pen.
Marya Genrikhovna agreed and began to look for a spoon, which someone had already grabbed.
“You finger, Marya Genrikhovna,” said Rostov, “it will be even more pleasant.”
- It's hot! - said Marya Genrikhovna, blushing with pleasure.
Ilyin took a bucket of water and, dripping some rum into it, came to Marya Genrikhovna, asking him to stir it with his finger.
“This is my cup,” he said. - Just put your finger in, I’ll drink it all.
When the samovar was all drunk, Rostov took the cards and offered to play kings with Marya Genrikhovna. They cast lots to decide who would be Marya Genrikhovna's party. The rules of the game, according to Rostov’s proposal, were that the one who would be king would have the right to kiss Marya Genrikhovna’s hand, and that the one who would remain a scoundrel would go and put a new samovar for the doctor when he woke up.
- Well, what if Marya Genrikhovna becomes king? – Ilyin asked.
- She’s already a queen! And her orders are law.
The game had just begun when the doctor’s confused head suddenly rose from behind Marya Genrikhovna. He had not slept for a long time and listened to what was said, and, apparently, did not find anything cheerful, funny or amusing in everything that was said and done. His face was sad and despondent. He did not greet the officers, scratched himself and asked permission to leave, since his way was blocked. As soon as he came out, all the officers burst into loud laughter, and Marya Genrikhovna blushed to tears and thereby became even more attractive in the eyes of all the officers. Returning from the yard, the doctor told his wife (who had stopped smiling so happily and was looking at him, fearfully awaiting the verdict) that the rain had passed and that she had to go spend the night in the tent, otherwise everything would be stolen.
- Yes, I’ll send a messenger... two! - said Rostov. - Come on, doctor.
– I’ll watch the clock myself! - said Ilyin.
“No, gentlemen, you slept well, but I didn’t sleep for two nights,” said the doctor and gloomily sat down next to his wife, waiting for the end of the game.
Looking at the gloomy face of the doctor, looking askance at his wife, the officers became even more cheerful, and many could not help laughing, for which they hastily tried to find plausible excuses. When the doctor left, taking his wife away, and settled into the tent with her, the officers lay down in the tavern, covered with wet overcoats; but they didn’t sleep for a long time, either talking, remembering the doctor’s fright and the doctor’s amusement, or running out onto the porch and reporting what was happening in the tent. Several times Rostov, turning over his head, wanted to fall asleep; but again someone’s remark entertained him, a conversation began again, and again causeless, cheerful, childish laughter was heard.

At three o'clock no one had yet fallen asleep when the sergeant appeared with the order to march to the town of Ostrovne.
With the same chatter and laughter, the officers hastily began to get ready; put the samovar on again dirty water. But Rostov, without waiting for tea, went to the squadron. It was already dawn; the rain stopped, the clouds dispersed. It was damp and cold, especially in a wet dress. Coming out of the tavern, Rostov and Ilyin, both in the twilight of dawn, looked into the doctor’s leather tent, shiny from the rain, from under the apron of which the doctor’s legs stuck out and in the middle of which the doctor’s cap was visible on the pillow and sleepy breathing could be heard.
- Really, she’s very nice! - Rostov said to Ilyin, who was leaving with him.
- What a beauty this woman is! – Ilyin answered with sixteen-year-old seriousness.
Half an hour later the lined up squadron stood on the road. The command was heard: “Sit down! – the soldiers crossed themselves and began to sit down. Rostov, riding forward, commanded: “March! - and, stretching out in four people, the hussars, sounding the slap of hooves on the wet road, the clanking of sabers and quiet talking, set off along the large road lined with birches, following the infantry and battery walking ahead.
Torn blue-purple clouds, turning red at sunrise, were quickly driven by the wind. It became lighter and lighter. The curly grass that always grows along country roads was clearly visible, still wet from yesterday’s rain; The hanging branches of the birches, also wet, swayed in the wind and dropped light drops to their sides. The faces of the soldiers became clearer and clearer. Rostov rode with Ilyin, who did not lag behind him, on the side of the road, between a double row of birches.
During the campaign, Rostov took the liberty of riding not on a front-line horse, but on a Cossack horse. Both an expert and a hunter, he recently got himself a dashing Don, a large and kind game horse, on which no one had jumped him. Riding this horse was a pleasure for Rostov. He thought about the horse, about the morning, about the doctor, and never once thought about the impending danger.
Before, Rostov, going into business, was afraid; Now he did not feel the slightest sense of fear. It was not because he was not afraid that he was accustomed to fire (you cannot get used to danger), but because he had learned to control his soul in the face of danger. He was accustomed, when going into business, to think about everything, except for what seemed to be more interesting than anything else - about the upcoming danger. No matter how hard he tried or reproached himself for cowardice during the first period of his service, he could not achieve this; but over the years it has now become natural. He now rode next to Ilyin between the birch trees, occasionally tearing leaves from the branches that came to hand, sometimes touching the horse’s groin with his foot, sometimes, without turning around, giving his finished pipe to the hussar riding behind, with such a calm and carefree look, as if he was riding ride. He felt sorry to look at Ilyin’s excited face, who spoke a lot and restlessly; he knew from experience the painful state of waiting for fear and death in which the cornet was, and knew that nothing except time would help him.
The sun had just appeared on a clear streak from under the clouds when the wind died down, as if it did not dare spoil this lovely summer morning after the thunderstorm; the drops were still falling, but vertically, and everything became quiet. The sun came out completely, appeared on the horizon and disappeared into a narrow and long cloud standing above it. A few minutes later the sun appeared even brighter on the upper edge of the cloud, breaking its edges. Everything lit up and sparkled. And along with this light, as if answering it, gun shots were heard ahead.
Before Rostov had time to think about and determine how far these shots were, the adjutant of Count Osterman Tolstoy galloped up from Vitebsk with orders to trot along the road.
The squadron drove around the infantry and the battery, who were also in a hurry to go faster, went down the mountain and, passing through some empty village without inhabitants, climbed the mountain again. The horses began to lather, the people became flushed.
- Stop, be equal! – the division commander’s command was heard ahead.
- Left shoulder forward, step march! - they commanded from the front.
And the hussars along the line of troops went to the left flank of the position and stood behind our lancers who were in the first line. On the right stood our infantry in a thick column - these were reserves; above it on the mountain, our guns were visible in the clear, clean air, in the morning, oblique and bright light, right on the horizon. Ahead, behind the ravine, enemy columns and cannons were visible. In the ravine we could hear our chain, already engaged and cheerfully clicking with the enemy.

The “legend” is based on: the so-called Kitezh “chronicler”, reported by Meledin and printed in Bezsonov’s comments to the IV edition of Kireyevsky’s collection of songs, various oral legends about the invisible city, partly given there, as well as one episode from the legend of Fevronia of Murom. But, as anyone familiar with the named monuments will see, the features scattered in these sources are too insufficient for an extensive and complex scenic work. For this reason, numerous and far-reaching additions were necessary, which, however, the author considered only as an attempt to guess from individual fragments and hints the whole hidden in the depths of the people's spirit - from some details of the worldview of the characters accidentally preserved in the sources, details of the external situation and etc. to recreate other details of the unknown picture. As a result, perhaps, in the entire work there is not a single little thing that was not in one way or another inspired by a feature of some legend, poem, conspiracy, or other fruit of Russian folk art.

The invasion of the Tatars in the Trans-Volga region and other external events are described in the “legend” using epic techniques - therefore, not real, but as they seemed at one time to the amazed popular imagination. Therefore, for example, the Tatars appear without a specific ethnographic coloring, only with those of their appearances with which they are depicted in songs from the times of the Tatars. In accordance with this, the language, the careful finishing of which the author attached special meaning, it was intended to be strictly maintained not in the sense of conformity with the dialect of the 13th century, but in the style of that semi-bookish, semi-popular language in which, in much later times, the spiritual verses of blind men passing through, ancient Christian legends and traditions, which served as the source of this work, are expressed.

Literary criticism, if it were ever to touch this modest operatic text, may first of all note the lack of dramatic action in most opera pictures. The author, in any case, considers it necessary to make a reservation that the absence of such an action was allowed by him completely consciously in the conviction that the inviolability of the requirement from a stage performance to move at all costs - frequent and decisive changes in position - is subject to challenge, because the organic coherence of moods and logic their replacements claim no less rights to recognition.

In conclusion, perhaps it is not superfluous to mention that the plan and text of the present opera, the idea of ​​which came to N. A. Rimsky-Korsakov even before composing “Saltan” (1899), - at all stages of its long development were subject to joint composer discussion. The composer, therefore, thought through and felt in every detail, together with the author of the text, not only the main idea, but also all the details of the plot, and, therefore, there cannot be a single intention in the text that would not be approved by the composer.

The composer’s idea for “Kitezh” arose in the mid-90s of the 19th century, but was embodied in the finished score of the opera only in 1903. The first production of the opera - one of the greatest and most original creations of Russian art - took place in February 1905 at the Mariinsky Theater (director F. Blumfeld, director V. Shkafer). Six months later, the opera was staged a second time at the Mariinsky Theater (director N. Cherepnin). In 1908 it was staged at the Bolshoi Theater. Further - in Petrograd (1915), Kaunas (1936), Brno (1934), Prague (1938), Riga (1949), Leningrad (1958). In 1983, the opera was staged at the Bolshoi Theater by conductor E. Svetlanov; in 1995, in Yekaterinburg. Despite the beliefs expressed by the authors of the opera about the optionality of an effective playwright in musical theater, a full-blooded stage overcoming of event statics did not happen in all productions of Kitezh. As a reviewer wrote about one of the latest premieres: “Kitezh,” unfortunately, is an opera.” This was not refuted by all three musically highly professional productions of the Mariinsky Theater of the last decade (director V. Gergiev).

May 2001

Prince Yuri Vsevolodovich

Knyazhich Vsevolod Yurievich

Fevronia

Grishka Kuterma

Fedor Poyarok

Two best people

Bear

Beggar-singer

Bedyai and Burundai, Tatar heroes

Sirin and Alkonost, birds of paradise

Princely archers, poezzhans, domrachi, the best people,

poor brethren, people, Tatars.

I action in the Trans-Volga forests near Small Kitezh;

II – in Maly Kitezh on the Volga;

III action:
the first picture is in Great Kitezh,
the second - near Lake Svetlago Yara;

IV action:
the first picture is in the Kerzhen forests,
the second is in the invisible city.

Summer from the creation of the world 6751

ORCHESTRA INTRO – “PRAISE OF THE DESERT”


Curtain. The city of Maly Kitezh on the left bank of the Volga. Square with shopping arcades. There's a visiting yard right there. There are crowds of people everywhere waiting for the wedding train. The poor brethren (men and women) huddle to the side. Near the visiting yard, a bear plays the pipe and shows a learned bear. He was surrounded by men, women and small children.

BEAR.
Show me, Mikhailushka,
show me, you fool
like the bell ringer Pakhomushka
he goes to church slowly,
rests with a stick and moves quietly.
(The bear waddles along, leaning on a crutch. People laugh. The little bear plays the pipe.)

CHORUS (people).
Ha, ha, ha, ha...

BEAR.
Show me, Mikhailushka,
show me, you fool
like the bell ringer Pakhomushka
runs away, hurries,
down from the bell tower,
hurry up to your home.
(The bear runs briskly around in small steps. People laugh. The little bear plays the pipe.)

CHORUS.
Ha, ha, ha, ha...

(Guslyar appears - a tall, harrier-white old man, plucking the strings, about to sing.)

CHORUS.
Be silent, baptized ones!
Quiet for a little while!
Let us listen to the song
al holy Jerusalem verse!

GUSLYAR.
Because of Lake Yara deep
golden-horned aurochs came running,
all twelve rounds without a single one;
and they met an old woman:
“Where did you kids walk, what did you see?”

CHORUS.
The song began in Kitezh,
was led by the bright Yar,
from the throne of Prince Yuri.

GUSLYAR.
“We walked around the capital Kitezh,
and we saw a wondrous wonder there:
that a beautiful maiden is walking along the wall,
in his hands he carries a wonderful book,
and she cries and bursts into tears herself.”

CHORUS.
And we ourselves want to cry.
The song doesn’t seem to be for a holiday.
Oh, it promises timelessness.

GUSLYAR.
“Oh, you, my foolish children!
then the Queen of Heaven walked,
then the wondrous intercessor cried,
that she read destruction to the city,
this whole land will be desolate forever.”

CHORUS.
(girls, women).
Lord, save us and have mercy!
Have more patience with human sin.
(old people)
And where would the misfortune come from?
Peace and quiet here in the Trans-Volga direction.
(youth)
Don't be afraid of the white-eyed Chudi!
but we don’t know any other enemy.
(old people)
God shepherds the great glorious Kitezh
for the sake of the orphans, the weak and the poor.
(poor brethren)
And even for those there is a refuge,
on earth heavenly Jerusalem,
who grieves his soul in this world
with his heart he will seek spiritual silence.
(people)
Everyone there will be given water and food,
They will wipe away tears and console everyone.
(calming down)
No, there will be no harm to Kitezh,
God the Lord will not give up the throne city.
(poor brethren)
We can't live without him, orphans,
can’t live without Prince Yury at all.
(people)
Brothers! Why isn't the wedding going?
It wouldn't be a joke on the road.

BEAR.
(brings out the bear again)
Show me, Mikhailushka,
show me, you fool
how a bride washes and whitens herself,
blushes in the mirror
admiring, preening?

Little Bear plays the pipe. The bear breaks down while holding a short spatula. People laugh.

PEOPLE.
Ha, ha, ha, ha...
The best people come. A bear dances with a goat

BEST PEOPLE
(tenor)
That's why the rootless need is glad,
(bass)
That's just clicks and mockery.
And even then I’ll say: isn’t it a joke?
everyone became related to the prince.
(tenor)
It’s a wedding, what a disaster!
Our women are furious
they don’t want to bow to the bride -
(bass)
they say, without clan and without tribe.
Grishka Kuterma is pushed out of the door of the tavern.
So the hawk moth Grishka is celebrating;
I don’t remember myself with joy.

It's a mess.
(having recovered, he steps forward; To the best people)
What do we care? We are people walking,
We are neither drawn to the village nor to the city;
We have not served anyone since our youth,
no one did any service for us.
Who gave the honey to the honey was our dear father,
whoever gave the pot of porridge passed for a prince.

THE BEST PEOPLE (conspire among themselves, winking at each other)
(bass)
We spare the treasury for the beggar,
do not spare it for the hawk moth.
(tenor, Kuterme)
You go to the tavern I'm visiting,
drink wine while your soul takes it,
to make it more fun to meet the bride,
(bass)
according to her deed and honor.
They give Kuterma money. The mess bows.

CHORUS (poor brethren; to Better people; pitifully).
You are gracious breadwinners,
Dear fathers!
Send us alms
For the Lord's sake.
God will give for that alms
blessed home to you,
deceased parents to all
kingdom of heaven.
The best people turn away from the poor

It's a mess.
Would you bow to me today:
I might even welcome you.

CHORUS (To the Turmoil).
Get rid of it, go away, you drunkard!
The singer began to sing and the poor brethren began to sing.
Who are you not told to mess with?
With Hawkmoth, with Hawkmoth,
Who will everyone laugh at?
Hawkmoth, Hawkmoth.
Who will see him from afar
will turn away, step aside.
Who dances and jumps at Vespers?
Hawkmoths, hawkmoths.
Won't you cross your forehead before going to bed?
Hawkmoths, hawkmoths.
Sexton with a staff on the porch
does not allow hawkmoths into the church.
And who is outraged by the demon?
Brazhnikov, hawk moths.
Does it teach you to fight, to fight?
Brazhnikov, hawk moths,
hawk moths, hawk moths.
They will know no joy on earth,
the kingdom of heaven is not in sight
hawk moths, hawk moths.

It's a mess.
Apparently, it’s not necessary.
After all, we won’t get used to grief:
how they were born into the world in tears,
So they didn’t know their share until later years.
Eh, thanks to the smart hop!
He taught us how to live in the world,
He didn’t tell us to spin,
He ordered me to live in grief and not be sad.
There is no money before money.
The semi started up before the evil days.
Drink everything down to the last thread:
It’s not a big deal for a naked person to walk around in litter.
He goes to the tavern. The little bear is playing. The bear and goat are dancing again. People crowd around them and laugh.

CHORUS.
Ha, ha, ha, ha...
(The poor brethren bow to those passing by; they do not pay attention to them.)
Send us alms
For the Lord's sake.
(to each other)
We would like to get to the great Kitezh;
there they will give us something to drink and eat.

Kuterma comes out of the tavern, tipsy. He dances and sings. People gather around him. The best people laugh and stay away.

It's a mess.
Brothers, we have a holiday,
the frying pans are ringing,
they preach the gospel into barrels,
they burn incense with brooms.
They are bringing the bride to us,
dragged from the swamp;
servants are running nearby
and without arms and without legs,
And she's wearing a fur coat
from mouse tails,
bast sundress
and neither sewn nor woven...

The commotion is pushed and silenced.

CHORUS (people).
Go away, you damned dog!
Get lost, you insatiable drunkard!
Drive away the hawkmoth
with great and dishonor.

You can hear bells and domra playing. The people quiet down and listen; some look into the distance. The sound of bells and domras are gradually approaching.

Hey guys! The bells are ringing
The wedding train is knocking and rattling.
They are slowly going down the hill,
they are afraid to break the tree,
Is it a cypress tree,
that gilded cart
with a red maiden soul.

Three carts, drawn by threes and decorated with ribbons, leave. In the first there are guslars and domrachi, in the second there are matchmakers, next to them a friend is riding - Fyodor Poyarok, in the third - Fevronia and her brother. On the sides are horseback riders, among them the Princely Youth. Everyone rushed towards them. The people block their way with scarlet and red ribbons,

Come on, let’s block their path together,
We'll block the entire path.
They have something to buy a wedding from,
pay us a considerable tribute.
(poor brethren)
You are Kuzma Demyan, you are a holy blacksmith,
you are a holy blacksmith, forge them a wedding,
forge them an eternal wedding,
eternal, indissoluble.
What kind of people are they?
Is he going to the outpost?
Unknown guests
Don't miss a trace.

Fedor POYAROK.
We are given by God and called a prince,
We're taking the princess and giving her gifts.

Poyarok and poezzhans distribute and throw gingerbread cookies, ribbons and money into the crowd. People are crowding.

CHORUS.
Hello, light princess!
Hello, light Fevronia Vasilievna!

The cart with Fevronia stops.

THE BEST PEOPLE (among themselves).
(bass)
Oh, simple, simple princess!
(tenor)
Should she be our mistress?

CHORUS.
Look forever, but you won’t see enough:
beauty is indescribable.
Hello, light princess!
Until now I was a neighbor,
we are related to the rank and file;
now be our mistress,
sit down, threatening lady!

Drunk, Kuterma tries to make his way forward; the men do not let him in and push him out. Fevronia notices this.

CHORUS.
Leave me alone, get rid of me, dog!
Perish, you blind eyes!

FEVRONIYA (pointing to Kuterma).
Why are you persecuting him?

CHORUS.
This is Grishka, the damned drunkard.

POYAROK.
Madam, don't listen to Hawkmoth,
I was not ordered to talk to him.

FEVRONIYA.
Don't sin, good word
God has given us everything.
Come closer, Grishenka.

KUTERMA (impudently)
Hello, hello, princess of light!
No matter how high you climbed,
and don’t put on airs with us:
There's only one field for berries.

They want to drive away the mess, but Fevronia stops it with a movement.

FEVRONIYA (humbly and sincerely).
Where can I, a girl, put on airs?
I know my place well
and myself, as if guilty,
(bows low to the people)
I bow deeply to the whole world.

MESS (continuing)
Just don’t rejoice in pain:
a man's joy comes to ruin.
Grief is fierce and envious -
how he sees and becomes attached.
You leave in half a feast,
throw off the magnificent rituals,
bow down to the unclean one,
both barefoot and hungry.
He will teach you how to live in the world
and even in grief happily ever after.

POYAROK.
Madam, don't listen to Hawkmoth,
I was not ordered to talk to him.

FEVRONIYA (meekly)
Pray, Grisha, to the Lord
yes to Vasily the saint:
he is the intercessor of the poor hawkmoths,
so that you don't get drunk,
Don't make honest people laugh.

KUTERMA (screams angrily).
They tell you, don't put on airs!
It’s not for you to disdain me.
This is how you will walk around the world,
live in the holy name of Christ,
you'll ask for it yourself,
to take you as my sweetheart.

The mess is pushed out of the square. Confusion.

CHORUS (people).
Shut up, you damned dog!
Drive away the hawk moth!

POYAROK.
You play, sonorous harps,
start a song, girls!

CHORUS (girls to the tune of guslars and domrache).
Like on bridges, on viburnum,
like on cloth and crimson,
like a whirlwind, the komoni rush,
three sleds are rolling into the capital city.
Play, harp, play, sniffle,
in the first sleigh the harp is ringing,
in other sleighs there is an ardent bee,
in the third sleigh there is a maiden soul,
light Fevronia Vasilievna.

The girls come up to the princess at once and shower her with hops and rye.
Play, harp, play, sniffle.

Distant sounds of horns. The wedding train is leaving. The people, seeing him off, follow him.

Here's some wild hops for you, good life,
so that you may live richly from your life,
so that you can have more fun from the hops...

(Sounds of horns. The song ends. People listen. Several men)

Hush, brothers, the trumpets have sounded...
Horses neigh, carts creak much...
What kind of parable? the women are howling...
Smoke rose in a column over the end of the trade.

Confusion begins. A frightened crowd runs in.

Oh, trouble is coming, people,
for the sake of our grave sins!
And there will be no forgiveness
Let's bend down to the last one.
Hitherto unknown to us
and unheard of fierce
now the enemy has appeared,
seemed to have grown out of the ground. By God's permission
the mountains dissipated,
the mountains were dissolving
and unearthly power
released into the wild.

A second crowd runs in, even more frightened.

Oh, trouble is coming, people,
For the sake of our grave sins!
And there will be no forgiveness
Let's bend down to the last one.
Yes, they are demons, not people,
and have no souls,
They don’t know Christ God
and the churches are fighting.
They burn everything with fire,
they bow everything to the sword,
there are so many red girls,
little children are torn to pieces.

A third crowd runs in in complete despair.

Oh, trouble is coming, people,
for the sake of our grave sins!
And there will be no forgiveness
Let's bend down to the last one.
Oh, where should we run?
Oh, and where can I hide?
The darkness is dark, hide us,
mountains, mountains, hide.
Oh, they’re running, they’re catching up,
are coming on the heels,
closer, closer... save yourself!
Oh, here they are, Lord! Oh!

Tatars are shown in colorful clothes. The people run away in horror and hide wherever possible. A crowd of Tatars with curved swords and six-feathers arrives. The Tatars chase and find the frightened inhabitants and kill them. Several Tatars are dragging Fevronia.

TATARS.
Gaida! Guy!
Gaida! Guy, guy!
Gaida! Gaida!

Tatar heroes enter: Bedyai and Burundai.

BUDDY.
What to regret? Beat me to death!

BURUNDAY (pointing to Fevronia).
And grab the girl alive!
(The heroes stop and dismount from their horses.)
There will be no such beauty in the steppe,
Let's bring a marsh flower to the Horde.

Fevronia is wrapped with a rope.

BUDDY.
Eh, angry people!

CHIPRUNDIE.
Even though the veins are pulling, he is silent.

BUDDY.
He won't tell you the way.

CHURUNDAY and BEDYAY.
We cannot find their capital city.

BUDDY.
And glorious, they say, is Greater Kitezh!
There are forty churches of God there;
there is no silver or gold in their estimates,
and row the pearls with a shovel.

Several Tatars drag in Kuterma, distraught with fear.

CHORUS (Tatars).
Gaida! Guy!

BUDDY.
Yeah! One more left.

It's a mess.
Have mercy, oh, have mercy,
You are the princes of the Murza Tatars!
Oh, what do you need a hawk moth?
Have mercy, oh, have mercy!

CHIPRUNDIE.
So be it, we will have mercy on you...

BUDDY.
...we'll give you a golden treasury.

CHURUNDAY and BEDYAY.
Do only the right service,
Lead Batyev's army along the path,
that unknown forest path,
through four fast rivers,
to your capital city, the Great Kitezh.

FEVRONIYA (Kuterma).
Oh, hold on tight, Grishenka.

BADYAY (threatens her).
You, beauty, shut up, shut up!

It's a mess.
(extremely excited, to himself)
Oh, woe, my crafty demon!
You teach me, my goodness, how to live richly,
not only to rob, but also to kill, -
to give up a whole city to destruction,
How can I sell Christ to Judas?
Although I don’t believe in sleep or choke,
Grishka cannot commit such a sin

CHIPRUNDIE.
Why are you silent, don’t you understand?

BUDDY.
If you don’t go, you won’t be so happy.

CHURUNDAY and BEDYAY.
Let's raise our eyes clear
We'll cut out your tongue,
We'll skin you alive,
We'll fry you in the heat...
Well, live there, walk around if you want.

KUTERMA (to himself; in a terrible struggle)
My death! What should I do? What should I do?

BUDDY.
He remains silent.

CHIPRUNDIE.
Take it you fool!

(The Tatars rush towards Kuterma in a crowd)

CHORUS.
Gaida! Guy!

It's a mess.
Stop, you godless infidels!
(with great melancholy, quietly)
I'm afraid of torment...
(with desperation, decisively)
It may be your way.
I will lead you, fierce enemies,
at least for this I will be damned forever,
and my memory is eternal
he will go along with Judas.
(joyful laughter of the Tatars)

BUDDY.
It would have been like this a long time ago.

BURUNDAY and BEDIAY (Tatars).
To Kitezh, governors!

(They get on their horses and ride off. Everyone leaves.)

CHORUS.
Goy! We are going to Rus' with fierce execution,
strong hailstones are comparable to the earth,
we will kill the old and young ones to death,
Whoever is in time, we will bring him into the horde.

They leave. The last to remain are Fevronia and the guards. Some of the guards are equipping a cart to put Fevronia on it.

FEVRONIYA (praying).
God, make the city of Kitezh invisible,
and also the righteous living in that city.

She is dragged to the cart. Curtain.

Kitezh the Great.

At midnight, all the people, from old to young, gathered with weapons in their hands outside the fence of the Assumption Cathedral. On the porch are Prince Yuri and Prince Vsevolod, with their squad around them. Everyone surrounded Fyodor Poyark, who stood with his head bowed, hand in hand with the youth.

POYAROK.
Hello, people of Kitezh.

CHORUS (people).
May you be well with us, Poyarok.

POYAROK.
Where is the prince, my lord, where is the prince?
Good people, show me.

CHORUS.
What you? Here they stand in front of you.

POYAROK.
The Lord's light has darkened, I can't see.

PRINCE VSEVOLOD (comes up and peers into his face).
Fedor! Friend! You are blind!

POYAROK.
Temen, prince.

CHORUS.
Lord have mercy!
Who is your villain?
Oh, don’t hesitate, tell me what the news is.

POYAROK.
Listen, honest Christians!
You haven’t smelled the enemy before...

CHORUS (people interrupt).
No, they didn’t know, they didn’t know, Fedor.

POYAROK.
Now, by the Lord's permission
Unfortunately for us, a miracle happened.
(Fyodor gathers his courage.)

CHORUS.
Fedor! Friend! Dark wretch!
Oh, don’t hesitate, tell me what a miracle it is.

POYAROK (solemnly).
The mother earth has parted,
split on two sides,
released the power of the enemy.
Whether demons or people, it is unknown:
everything is shackled in damask steel as it is,
their wicked king himself is with them.

CHORUS.
Fedor! Friend! Dark wretch!
Oh, don’t hesitate, tell me quickly,
How great is the army that is coming, the Tsareva?

POYAROK.
How many there are, I don’t know;
and from the creaking of their cart
yes from the neighing of greyhounds
You can’t listen to speeches seven miles away;
and from a couple of horses
the sun itself faded.

CHORUS.
Oh, the earth is damp, our mother,
How have we angered you, children?
What has sent us evil adversity? Oh!
Fedor! Friend! Dark wretch!
Oh, don’t hesitate, tell me in order,
did our smaller brother Kitezh survive?

POYAROK.
Captured without a fight with great destruction.
Having not found Prince Yury in the city,
the wicked were inflamed with anger.
All the inhabitants were tormented by torment,
The way to the capital city is torturing everyone...
And they carried it away in silence, even to death.

CHORUS.
God still protects Great Kitezh.

POYAROK.
Oh, one person has been found,
I could not endure those evil torments,
and told the way to King Batu.

CHORUS.
Woe to the accursed Judas!
In this world and the future, destruction!

PRINCE VSEVOLOD.
Fedor! Friend! Dark wretch!
Tell me only: is the princess alive?

POYAROK.
Oh, alive... but it would be better not to live.

PRINCE VSEVOLOD.
Is she full? In bitter captivity?

POYAROK.
Lord, forgive her sin:
I didn’t understand what she was doing, I didn’t know!
The princess is leading our enemies here.

PRINCE VSEVOLOD.
How? How is she?
Oh, Lord have mercy!

In despair, he covers his face with his hands. Silence.

POYAROK.
And they grabbed me and laughed a lot... Afterwards, they blinded me and sent me away as a messenger.
with this little boy to Prince Yury.
“We will destroy the capital city to the ground,
the walls are as strong as the earth,
We will burn all of God's churches with fire,
we will put the old and little ones to death,
whoever is in time - we will take them in full,
We’ll take it in full, we’ll bring it to the Horde,
good fellows of the villages,
rows of red girls.
We don’t tell them to believe in God,
in your faith in salvation,
and we tell them only to believe
in our unbaptized faith.”

CHORUS.
Oh, my heart is troubled, brothers!
Wants to be a great disaster.

PRINCE YURI.
Oh, glory, vain wealth!
Oh, our life is short!
Little hours will pass, little hours will pass,
and we will lie down in pine coffins.
The soul will fly about its business
before God's throne for the final judgment,
and the bones are a legend to the earth,
and the body for worms to eat.
Where will fame and wealth go?
My Kitezh, mother of all cities!
Oh, Kitezh, endless beauty!
Is this what I built you for?
among the dark impenetrable forests?
In my mad pride I thought:
this city will be built forever,
balmy haven
to all those who suffer, hunger, seek...
Kitezh, Kitezh! Where is your glory?
Kitezh, Kitezh! Where are your chicks?
(to the youth) Little youth, you are younger than everyone else,
you go up to the top of the church,
look at all four sides,
Isn't God giving us a sign?

The youth runs into the bell tower and looks around in all four directions.

POYAROK, PRINCE YURI, CHORUS.
Wonderful heavenly queen,
You are our holy intercessor!
Do not forsake me with great mercy.

YOUTH.
The dust rose in a column to the sky,
The white light is completely obscured.
The Horde comoni are rushing,
hordes gallop from all sides;
their banners flutter
their swords are shiny damask.
I see Kitezh-grad burning:
the flames are burning, sparks are flying,
in the smoke the stars all faded,
the sky itself was on fire...
A river flows from the gate,
all made of innocent blood...
And black corvids are hovering,
revel in warm blood...

PRINCE YURI.
Oh, the right hand of God is terrible!
The city is destined for destruction,
for us the sword and death are in vain.
(to the people)
Brethren! Pray to the Lady,
Kitezh to the heavenly intercessor.

PRINCE VSEVOLOD, POYAROK, PRINCE YURI, CHOIR:
Wonderful heavenly Queen,
You are our good intercessor,
do not forsake heavenly mercy,

YOUTH (sadly).
Woe, woe to the city of Kitezh!
Church domes without crosses,
without princes the towers are high;
at the corners of the white stone walls
the horsetails hang shaggy;
horses are led from the gates into the Horde,
Carts of pure silver are being transported.

PRINCE YURI.
If Kitezh were plundered,
and give us tribute alive.
Oh, that shame is worse than destruction!
(to the people)
Pray to the intercessor again,
cry everyone, young and old,
cry all your bloody tears.

Everyone falls on their faces.

CHORUS.
Wonderful heavenly Queen,
You are our good intercessor,
Cover Kitezh-grad with your cover.
Have mercy, heavenly queen,
send angels to our defense.

YOUTH.
Empty sholomya, okatisto,
that above Svetly Yar Lake,
blanketed in a white cloud,
what a luminous veil...
The sky is quiet, clear, blissful,
as if in the bright church of God.
(goes off)

PRINCE YURI.
May God's will be done,
and the hail will disappear from the face of the earth.

PRINCE VSEVOLOD (stepping forward).
Oh, you, faithful squad!
Is it okay for us to die with our wives?
hiding behind the walls,
without seeing the enemy face to face?
We are united in our hearts,
Let's go out to the enemy at Candlemas,
for the peasants, for the Russian faith
put down your little heads.

CHORUS.
Behind you, prince, behind you!

PRINCE VSEVOLOD.
Prince Yuri, let us go into the field!

PRINCE YURI.
May God grant you to die shamelessly,
to be counted as a martyr.

He blesses the prince and his squad. The warriors say goodbye to their wives and leave the city with the prince, singing a song.

PRINCE VSEVOLOD.
Got up at midnight...

PRINCE VSEVOLOD, CHORUS.
Been up since midnight
peasant squad,
prayed, was baptized,
prayed, was baptized,
I was preparing for a fight to the death.
Sorry, goodbye, my dear,
(go beyond the fence)
forgive me, goodbye, my dear!
Don't cry, little family:
(behind the walls)
death in battle is written for us,
death in battle is written for us,
but there is no litter for the dead.
(further)
Death in battle is written for us...
We will die in battle...

A light fog with a golden sheen quietly descends from the dark sky - at first it is transparent, then thicker and thicker.

CHORUS (people).
Why are we standing, sisters?
The hour of death is near...
How can one die?
without saying goodbye to each other?
Sisters, hug:
let the tears flow.
And those tears are ours
with joy, not with grief.
The church bells began to hum quietly of their own accord.
Chu! The bells are all
they started buzzing themselves,
as if from many
blowing wings.
Angels of the Lord
now here above us.

YOUTH.
The eyes are covered with a kind of veil.

PRINCE YURI.
Like incense smoke
comes down to us from heaven.

CHORUS.
It’s wonderful: the city has clothed itself in light clothing.
All the regiment
let's go as a regiment,
let's go, sisters,
to the cathedral church,
yes in the Lord's house
the torment of the crown is acceptable.

YOUTH.
Let us marvel at the miracle of the Lord this day, sisters!

PRINCE YURI.
God the Lord cover
Kitezh covers.

CHORUS.
And the fog is getting thicker...
Where are we, where are we, sisters?

PRINCE YURI, CHORUS.
Where does the joy come from?
light from where?
Is death coming?
Is it a new birth?

YOUTH.
Rejoice, people, sing to God of glory!
He rings wonderfully
calls to us from heaven.
(Everything is shrouded in golden fog.)
Cloud curtain.

Transition to the second picture. "The Battle of Kerzhenets"

Curtain. In the oak grove on the shore of Lake Svetlago Yara the darkness is impenetrable. The opposite shore, where Great Kitezh stands, is shrouded in thick fog. The mess with the heroes Bedyai and Burundai, making their way through the thicket of bushes, come out into a clearing leading to the lake.

It's a mess.
Here is the oak grove, here is the lake,
Svetly Yar is our calling,
and Kitezh itself is a great city
stands on the opposite bank.

The heroes peer into the darkness.

CHIPRUNDIE.
You're lying, dog!
There is a small spruce forest there,
A young birch tree grows.

BUDDY.
And the places are empty and deserted.

It's a mess.
Ali, you didn’t hear the ringing,
that buzzed all the way down the road,
in that bell-like language
as if he was striking at the heart itself.

Little by little the Tatars converge. Carts of stolen goods are brought in.

CHORUS (Tatars).
Oh, you Rus', damned land!
There is no straight road.
Yes, and the paths are littered
We’re all singing, we’re shooting, we’re whipping.
And our steppe komoni
they stumble over the roots.
From the fog from the swamp
the Tatar spirit is engaged.
Even though they beat the good army,
The third day we are still wandering around in vain.
(To the commotion)
You made us faint, drunkard,
He took us to deserted places!
(They surround Kuterma with threats; he throws himself at the feet of the heroes.)

It's a mess.
Oh, have mercy, heroes!

Burundai and Bedyai stop the Tatars.

BUDDY.
Don't be afraid! We won't touch you
and tie it tightly to the tree
and let's wait for the sun,
and then we’ll see what to do with you.

CHIPRUNDIE.
And if the place is not completely empty,
stands on the shore of Greater Kitezh...

CHIPUNDAY AND BUDDY.
We'll cut your head off your shoulders:
do not betray your native prince.

A cart drives in, on which Fevronia sits in silent melancholy.

CHIPRUNDIE.
And if he fooled us to no avail,
led into a deserted desert,
oh, the torment will be worse than death!
The mess is grabbed and tied to a tree.
The people are angry!

The Tatars sit down on the ground and make fires; others carry out all the spoils and place them in separate heaps.

BUDDY.
I feel sorry for the prince!
Forty wounds, but he didn’t give up alive.

CHIPUNDAY AND BUDDY.
If only we would respect him
would be pressed down tightly with boards,
They would have sat down to feast.
“Listen, they say, how we celebrate here!”

Tatars break barrels of wine and drink with silver glasses. Burundai and Bedyai sit down with the others.

BUDDY.
The owners took care of the wine,
we never tasted it ourselves.

The Tatars cast lots and drink wine. Many, having taken their share, leave.

CHORUS.
Not crows, not hungry
flocked to the massacre,
The Murza princes were gathering,
They sat down in a circle and would divide things up.
And all the princes are forty knights,
in the case of shares against that.
And the first share is a golden shell
whether the Holy Russian prince;
the other share is his corporal cross;
and the third share is damask steel in silver.
There is still a share, - it is more expensive than everyone else, -
light girl Polonyanochka:
doesn’t drink, doesn’t eat, kills himself,
tears, light, filled.

CHIPRUNDIE.
Oh, you Tatar Murzas!
I don't need gold, silver -
give me the Polyanochka:
I'm out of business with her now.

BUDDY.
What you? Where has this been seen?
What happens by lot?
then let him get it;
I myself have a girl after my own heart.

CHIPRUNDIE.
I saw her before you,
Then she fell in love with me.
Let's try, ask the girl:
Like, which of us will she follow?

BADYAY (with laughter).
I bow to my fullest!

BURUNDAY (Fevronia).

I'll take you to the Golden Horde,
I'll marry you
I will put you in a colored tent...

BADYAY (interrupts with an evil mockery).
Don't cry, don't cry, pretty girl!
I'll take you to the Golden Horde,
I'll take you as a worker,
I will teach you with a whip...

CHIPRUNDIE.
Give me a girl, you'll be my friend,
If you don’t give, you will be an enemy.

BADYAY (gloomily).
Your enemy.

CHURUNDAY (hitting Bedya on the head with an ax).
So screw you!

The poor guy falls dead. There is silence for a moment, then the Tatars calmly continue the division. Many got drunk and, having taken their share, are unable to walk, fall and fall asleep. Burundai takes Fevronia to his place, lies down on the carpet, makes her sit down and tries to console her.

BURUNDAY (pulls Fevronia towards him and hugs her)
Don't be afraid of us, beauty!
Our faith, easy faith:
don’t cross yourself, don’t bow…
And there will be a golden treasury...
(through a dream)
Don’t be timid, forest bird...
closer!.. well! Why is she unkind?
(She falls asleep. The whole camp sleeps too. Fevronia leaves Burundai.)

FEVRONIYA (lamenting).
Oh, you are my dear groom, my hope!
You are alone under the willow tree,
you lie unmourned, uninveterate,
lying there all bloody, unwashed...
If only I knew your place,
I would wash your body with tears,
I would warm you with my blood,
I would revive you with my spirit.
Oh, you heart, zealous heart!
You, heart, were torn away from the root,
covered in scarlet blood:
and how can I grow you?
(cries quietly)

KUTERMA (tied to a tree, quietly).
Listen, girl...
(getting better)
Princess light!
(Fevronia listens.)
Do not disdain the damned,
get closer, pure man!

FEVRONIYA (recognizes Kuterma and comes closer)
Grisha, Grisha, what have you accomplished!

It's a mess.
Oh, be quiet! I can't bear it anymore:
death is terrible, death is quick;
worse than that villain is melancholy...
And the ringing of the Assumption in Kitezh!..
And why is it calling at the wrong time?
Oh, the bell is ringing for Grishka,
like a butt on the crown of the head.

FEVRONIYA (listens).
Where is the ringing?

It's a mess.
Ah, princess!
Have a little pity on me:
Pull your hat down over my ears,
so that they don’t hear me calling,
to get rid of my sadness and melancholy.
Fevronia comes up and pulls his hat down over his ears; he listens.
(With desperation)
No, it's buzzing, the damned ringing is buzzing!
There is no way I can hide from him.

Shaking his head furiously, he throws his hat to the ground. Whispers quickly and passionately.

Let me go, princess
release my strong bonds,
let me get away from the Tatar torments,
At least one more day to suffer!
I'll run away into the dense forests,
I'll grow a waist-deep beard,
I’ll save my soul there.

FEVRONIYA (hesitantly).
What did you plan, Grisha, did you invent?
After all, they will execute me as a baby.

KUTERMA (calmer, convinces).
Eh, why should you save your stomach?
She sowed everything she had;
from people even princely
There are almost ten of them alive.
(dumb)
And God forbid that anyone should be alive!

FEVRONIYA (with increasing amazement).
Why “God forbid”, Grishenka?

It's a mess.
Whoever you meet will kill you.
(Fevronia shudders.)
How I led the Tatar army,
I told everyone to tell you...

FEVRONIYA (retreats with fear).
Did you order me, Grishenka?

KUTERMA (quietly; nodding)
On you.

FEVRONIYA (covering her face with her hands).
Oh, scary, Grishenka!
Grisha, are you not the Antichrist?

It's a mess.
What are you, what are you?
Where am I, princess!
I'm just the last drunkard:
There are many of us like this in the world.
We drink ladles full of tears,
wash it down with sighs.

FEVRONIYA.
Do not complain about your bitter fate:
This is the great mystery of God.
But you weren’t happy,
after all, even that is Divine light for us,
how do others walk in joy?

It's a mess.
Oh, you are my light, my princess!
Our eyes are envious,
our raking hands,
you're coveting someone else's share,
Yes, you promise them all sorts of things...
And you will go against God:
That's why we live in grief forever,
to accept death in bitter agony?

FEVRONIYA (with feeling)
Bitter, bitter, thrice painful!
You really don't know joy.

CUTTER (pretending)
And I didn’t hear, princess,
what she is.
(again often and abruptly)
Let me go, princess
release me strong bonds...

FEVRONIYA.
Be that way.
(solemnly)
Go, servant of the Lord!
I will loosen the strong bonds,
I will not be afraid of the torment of death,
I will pray for my executioners.
Repent diligently: God will forgive.
Repent, every sin is forgiven,
and which is not forgivable,
will not be forgiven, but will be forgotten.
How can I break my bonds?

It's a mess.
That gray-haired Murza has
you see, the knife is sticking out from the belt.

Fevronia approaches Burundai and takes out a knife from him; he wakes up. The first rays of dawn.

CHURUNDY (awake)
You come to me, my beauty!..

He wants to hug Fevronia, but falls asleep. Fevronia cuts the ropes.

KUTERMA (overjoyed).
Oh, my dears, I'm free!
Well, now God give me some legs!
(He again imagines the ringing.)
Do you hear? Again the frantic ringing.
Hostility itself hits the rivet,
dark fear strikes the heart...
And how that fear spreads,
along the arms, legs, veins...
The damp earth began to tremble.

He wants to run, but he staggers, falls face down and lies motionless for some time. Gets up; with desperate determination.

You can’t escape the absolute torment,
I don’t belong in this world!
I'll throw myself into the pool,
I will live with dark demons,
play leapfrog with them at night.

Rushes towards the lake. The mess stops at the shore, rooted to the spot. The first rays of dawn illuminate the surface of the lake and the reflection of the capital city in the lake under the empty shore. The festive ringing rings, little by little becoming louder and more solemn. The mess rushes back to Fevronia. Pointing at the lake in mad surprise.

Where there was a demon, there are now gods;
Where God was, there was nothing!
Where is the demon now, princess?
(laughs madly)
Ah, ha, ha, ha, ha! Let's run, my dear!
“He” tells me to find Kitezh-grad.
(wildly) Ha!

He runs away, taking Fevronia with him. His cry woke up the Tatars.

CHORUS.
Who was screaming and screaming madly?
Did you wake us Tatars up early?
Surely the enemies have crept up?
Is it time for us to go on a hike?
(seeing a vision in the lake)
Miracle, incomprehensible miracle!
Oh, you Tatar warriors,
wake up, wake up!
Look, marvel!
(with amazement)
Even though the lake is empty, empty,
in a bright lake, like in a mirror,
the capital city is visible overturned...
As if on a holiday and to celebrate
a cheerful ringing is heard.
(The Tatars are attacked by unaccountable fear)
Let's run away!
Go away, comrades!
Get away from these places!
From the damned!
Nothing bad would happen!
He's great...
(while running) Oh! (scatter in different directions) The Russian God is terrible!

Curtain. Dark night. A dense thicket in the Kerzhen forests. An uprooted spruce tree lies across it. In the depths there is a clearing and in it a moss-covered swamp. Fevronia makes her way through the dense, tenacious bushes in a torn dress; the crazy Kuterma follows her.

FEVRONIYA (exhausted, sits on the trunk).
Oh, I can’t go Grishenka:
I can’t feel better from languor,
the frisky legs gave way.

It's a mess.
There is no time, fly agarics are waiting...
Let's sit here, princess.
You're on a stump, and I'm on an anthill.
What a devil I am!
(brazenly and akimbo)
You have become proud, princess,
sitting at the prince's table,
I didn’t recognize my former friend.
(to myself)
We walked around the world together.
(plaintively, like a beggar)
Give me, poor, rootless,
give a tooth to the hungry
give me a spoonful of cheek,
Give me a little bit of milk.

FEVRONIYA.
There were berries, but you ate them.

KUTERMA (patter).
The demon ate them... ate my soul.
(brazenly)
We were lucky!
Is it a joke from the rusty swamp
fall into the prince's lies?
This is truly a noble princess;
It's a pity that the legs are frogs.
(wildly) Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

FEVRONIYA (meekly).
Don’t mock, but come to your senses:
remember what sin you committed.

It's a mess.
Old honk, old tune!
I am not a sinner, a servant of the Lord,
heaven of the bright gatekeeper.
I did not destroy the souls of innocents,
they were canonized as a martyr,
multiplied Christ's army.

FEVRONIYA.
Grisha, Grisha, shut up and cry!
Cry if you have tears.
It will come out as a tear.

KUTERMA (sobs)
I really feel sorry for old Grisha.
It’s good to save his soul,
who lives by wit and cunning.
He will say to the obedient heart:
“If you are deaf to someone else’s misfortune,
Hide your thoughts and thoughts deeper!
We will do what we are told,
love everyone but only destroy yourself,
beggars favor filthy dogs:
in the next world everything will pay off.”

FEVRONIYA.
God, have mercy on Grishenka,
You send love at least a little bit,
give him tender tears!

It's a mess.
That’s exactly what made me angry! Do you see?
(almost in a whisper)
Well, let's pray if you want...
Not Him; because on Him
and you can’t look: you’ll go blind forever.
I will pray to the damp earth;
(peers like a child)
teach me to pray to the earth,
teach me, teach me, princess!

FEVRONIYA.
Aren't I glad to teach you?
Repeat it word by word.
(Kutterma kneels.)
You are the earth, our merciful mother!

MESS (repeats).
Merciful.

FEVRONIYA.
You feed us all,
you feed the evil and the righteous.

It's a mess.
Evil and righteous.

FEVRONIYA.
forgive me my sins
Poor Grisha!

It's a mess.
Poor Grisha!

FEVRONIYA.
But sin has no name, no name.

It's a mess.
And not to hang sin
and don't measure it.

FEVRONIYA.
You are the earth, made cold by that sin.

KUTERMA (with deep feeling).
My dear, I've become frightened, I've become completely corrupted.

FEVRONIYA.
You went source
burning tears...

It's a mess.
Burning tears.

FEVRONIYA.
To fill it with something
black you...

KUTERMA (inattention).
Black you.

FEVRONIYA.
So that my dear one can wash herself
very white...

MESS (unconsciously).
As white as white.

FEVRONIYA (getting carried away).
And on a new field,
white as a charter
we will sow with prayer
the seed is new.
(The mess is silent and looks around in fear.)
And they will rise in that field
flowers of paradise,
and you yourself, dear,
decorate yourself.

KUTERMA (scared).
Ay! Who is sitting with you, princess?
He is scary, dark and inconspicuous:
stinking smoke is sown from the mouth,
eyes like fiery coals,
and from the spirit from the unclean
We, the baptized, cannot be alive.
(jumps up hastily)
Oh, have mercy, my lord!
Do not execute a faithful slave.
What do you want me to do? Dance, jump?
Should I mock? play the pipe?
(dances madly and whistles)
Ay Lyuli, born,
Ay Lyuli, he has taken possession of us
seven-headed serpent,
ten-horned serpent.
Ai Lyuli, his wife is with him,
ay Lyuli, born,
evil and insatiable,
naked and shameless.
Ay Lyuli, pour it
sweet cup,
Ay Lyuli, give it to me
an abomination to hell.
(whistles; in frantic horror)
Scary! Hide me, my dear!
Protect me with your breasts, with your breasts!
(throws his head on Fevronia’s chest
and calms down for a moment)
What should I do? The soul is a girl's,
that in the window the mica is light:
the hostility is visible right through to me.
Here she is! The demon looks homely.
From his filthy eyes
fiery knitting needles stretch,
they pierce Grishenka’s heart,
they burn him with pitch-black fire...
Where to run? Where will I hide?
Ha! (Runs away screaming wildly).

FEVRONIYA (alone).
Grishenka!.. He doesn’t hear... he ran away.
(Lies on the grass. The trees are little by little covered with bright emerald greenery of a bizarre appearance.)
I felt good lying down
sick and tired as never before.
And the earth sways quietly,
that the child rocks in the cradle.
Bye, bye, sleep, sleep,
sleep, little heart, rest,
Bye, bye, sleep, sleep,
you are zealous, go to sleep.

Wax candles light up everywhere on tree branches. Huge, unprecedented flowers little by little grow on the trees and from the ground: golden roses, silver and scarlet roses, string, iris and others. Closer to Fevronia they are low, the further you go, the higher. The passage to the swamp remains open.

I'll see what flowers there are here,
and how wonderful everyone is!
Gilded iris,
the series is like pearls...
They say there are little birds
to us from heaven from the brightest,
on your peacock feathers
The seeds they bring are wonderful.
Oh, you flowers are not from here,
heavenly creen unfading!
How have you matured and grown?
the middle of the story didn’t die out?
(The flowers move in the breeze.)
It's amazing to me; whence, unknown,
is it not from the garden of heaven,
the winds blew here.
And they carry honey perfume
and much fragrant
straight to my tired soul,
straight to the weary heart.
Breathe deeper, deeper, soul!
(Comes out; the flowers nod and bow to her.)
I'll see what flowers there are,
and how wonderful everyone is!
Everyone closed in around me
and nodding their heads,
they bow to me lowly,
greeting your mistress.
Oh, you strange flowers,
heavenly creen unfading!
Such a great honor
It didn’t fit for an orphan.
(looks around)
Has spring come again?
All the swamps were overgrown,
all the trees are decorated,
like hawthorns to a crown of gold;
(spring birds sing, among them the singing of Alkonost stands out)
the free birds played out,
the dark thickets have left.

FEVRONIYA.
Ay, the bird is slow-witted!
Having seen such miracles,
I'm not afraid to die,
and I don’t feel sorry for the orphan’s life.
(plucks flowers of paradise and weaves a wreath)
Oh, you flowers are not from here,
Don't be angry, darlings!
It will be, it will be for me
break you, tear you,
I will weave wreaths from you.
I'll get dressed for the last time,
I’ll decorate myself like a bride,
I’ll take the heavenly coin in my hands,
I will wait, quietly rejoicing:
come, my death,
my beloved guest,
lead me to a green place,
where the groom rests.

From the depths of the clearing, through the swamp, strewn with flowers, like dry land, the ghost of Prince Vsevolod slowly walks, illuminated by a golden radiance, barely touching the soil with his feet.

FEVRONIYA (again full of strength, rushes to him).
Are you the clear light of my eyes?
Are you unspeakable joy?
Am I looking at you, dear one,
light, priceless pearls?
Are you just like that?
Vsevolod the glorious prince?

GHOST.
Have fun, my bride, have fun!
The groom has come for you.

FEVRONIYA.
Hope is alive, friend, safe!
Show me your wounds
forty bloody wounds.
I will wash them with a tear of joy,
I'll bake them with kisses.

GHOST.
I lay dead in an open field,
forty mortal wounds on the body.
There was that, but that has passed:
Today I am alive and I glorify God.

FEVRONIYA AND THE GHOST.
We will not part with you,
nicoli forever and ever,
and death itself, the homewrecker
will pity our youth.

FEVRONIYA.
Look at Fevronia
with your gentle eye.

GHOST.
Oh red bride
tender blueberry!

FEVRONIYA.
The luminous eye
unearthly joy
graciously enlightened.

GHOST.
How sweet are you?
spring airs,
such is your voice sweet.

FEVRONIYA.
You smell in my mouth
the spirit of wondrous lips,
your wondrous lips;
but come from your mouth
words of inspiration,
the speech is quiet and soulful.

GHOST.
What's it like on the flowers?
the dew of God is pure,
such is the purity of your tears.

GHOST.
You understand, the red bride,
Understand their prophetic words.

GHOST AND FEVRONIA.
The Lord will give us joy now,
but we didn’t know her,
will reveal to the eye an unprecedented light,
quiet, never-sunset light.

GHOST.
You're tired, you're tired
from passions from everyone, from hunger.
Take this for strengthening:
The road is not close to us.
(Takes out a piece of bread from his bosom and gives it to Fevronia.)
Who has eaten of our bread,
he is involved in eternal joy.

FEVRONIYA (throwing crumbs on the ground).
It’s enough for me... and the crumbs are small
I will sow for you, free birds,
I will give you a final treat.
(piously)
Lord Jesus, accept me
establish gates in the villages of the righteous.

Both, hand in hand, slowly walk away through the swamp, barely touching the ground. Out of sight.

Go to the second picture
Walking into the invisible city.
Assumption ringing. Birds of paradise. Cloud curtain.

ALKONOST'S VOICE (behind the curtain):
He promised people who were suffering,
people crying...new:
The Lord promised the righteous people.
Thus he said: “Behold, the word of God is being fulfilled,
People, rejoice: here you will find
consolation of all earthly sorrows,
revelation of new joys."

The clouds are breaking. The city of Kitezh, wonderfully transformed. Assumption Cathedral and the prince's courtyard near the western gate. High bell towers, fires on the walls, intricate towers and tumblers made of white stone and pine wood. The carving is decorated with pearls; painting in blue, ash and blue-scarlet colors, with all the transitions that occur on clouds. The light is bright, bluish-white, from all sides, as if giving no shadow. To the left opposite the gate are the prince's mansions; The porch is guarded by a lion and a unicorn with silver fur. Sirin and Alkonost - birds of paradise with female faces - sing while sitting on knitting needles. A crowd in white secular clothes with heavenly krins and lit candles in their hands; Among the crowd is Poyarok, the sighted one, and the Youth, who was his guide.

ALKONOST.
The doors of heaven, heaven...

SIRIN.
...they opened up to you.

ALKONOST.
Time is up...

SIRIN.
...the eternal moment has arrived.
(Everyone bows to Prince and Fevronia, who enter the gate. Fevronia is in shiny clothes.)

CHORUS.
May you be well with us, princess.

FEVRONIYA (Breathed in surprise, she walks around the square, looking at everything, and clasping her hands in delight.)
The kingdom of light!
Oh God!
Towers, gates and walls
exactly from a yacht.
Silver-haired aliens!
What wonderful birds!
they sing with angelic voices!

The people surround Knyazhich and Fevronia and sing a wedding song to the sounds of the harp and paradise pipe, throwing flowers at their feet: roses and blue iris.

CHORUS.
Like the azure flowers,
on the weeping grass on the non-withering grass
not a foggy cloud floats,
The bride-to-be is coming to the groom.
Play, harp,
play, pipes.

FEVRONIYA (listening to the song, grabs Knyazhich’s hand).
A wedding song, but whose wedding is it?

PRINCE VSEVOLOD.
Ours, my dear.

CHORUS.
Surrounded by a bright rainbow,
the sky is all cleared away with stars,
behind the wings of quiet joy,
a crown of vain torment on the brow.
Play, harp,
play, pipes.

FEVRONIYA.
They didn’t finish this song there.
I remember, honey. That's wonderful!

CHORUS.
Let's smoke it with dark incense,
We will sprinkle you with living water;
and sorrow and melancholy will be forgotten,
everything that was dreamed will come on its own.
(Prince Yuri appears on the princely porch.)

PRINCE VSEVOLOD (pointing to his father).
Here is my father-in-law, the prince, my parent.

CHORUS.
God's mercy is upon you, princess.

PRINCE YURI.
God's mercy is upon you, daughter-in-law!

FEVRONIYA (bows to all four sides)
I bow to you, righteous people,
and to you, my father-in-law.
Don't judge me, orphan,
Don’t blame my simplicity,
and receive you into an honest monastery,
hold me in your love.
And I’ll ask you, father-in-law:
Didn't I see it in a dream?

PRINCE YURI.
The dream has now become a reality, dear,
what in the dream seemed to come to life.

FEVRONIYA.
Good people, tell me:
I walked here through the forest in the evening,
Yes, and it went on for a short time,
and you have here an indescribable light,
like the sun never sets.
Why is there so much light here?
the sky itself is radiant,
what is white and what is azure,
where did it seem to turn red?

PRINCE VSEVOLOD AND PRINCE YURI.
That's why we have such a great light here,
that the prayer of so many righteous
apparently comes from the mouth
like a pillar of fire reaching to the sky.

SIRIN, ALKONOST AND PRINCE VSEVOLOD:
Without candles we are here and we honor books,
and warms us like the sun.

FEVRONIYA.
Why are the vestments here white,
like snow in the spring sun
sparkles, shimmers,
It hurts an unaccustomed eye.

YOUTH, PRINCE VSEVOLOD, POYAROK AND PRINCE YURI:
That is why the vestments are white here,
like snow in the spring sun,
that they were washed with tears
abundant, flammable.

SIRIN, ALKONOST, YOUTH,
Prince Vsevolod, Poyarok and Prince Yuri:
The same light-colored vestments
and you are destined here.

CHORUS.
God's mercy is upon you.
Be with us here forever,
settle down in the bright city,
where there is no crying, no illness,
where is the endless sweetness?
joy is eternal...

FEVRONIYA.
Oh, what is this joy for?
How did I please God?
Not a saint, not a blue one,
I only loved in simplicity.

SIRIN, ALKONOST, PRINCE VSEVOLOD AND PRINCE YURI:
You brought it to God the light
those three gifts that she kept:
Is it the meekness of a dove,
Is that love, virtue,
those tears of tenderness.

CHORUS.
God's mercy is upon you...

PRINCE VSEVOLOD.
Oh, you are a faithful bride!
time for us to go to the Church of God,
to the church of God to the golden crown.

FEVRONIYA.
My dear, desired groom!
Grishenka remained there in the forest;
He is weak in soul and body,
that the child has become a mind.
How can Grishenka be brought into this city?

PRINCE YURI.
The time has not come for Grishino,
the heart in it does not ask for the light.

FEVRONIYA.
Oh, if only you could send me a letter,
small consolation for Grisha,
good news for the lesser brethren?

PRINCE YURI.
Well! Fyodor will write a letter,
the little lad will report to Grisha:
let it spread throughout Rus'
God's miracles are great.

Poyarok places a long scroll on the turned railing of the prince's porch and prepares to write. Fevronia and the princes around him.

FEVRONIYA (Poyarku).
Well, write. What can I not do?
good people will tell you the story.
Grishenka, even though you are weak in mind,
And I am writing to you, dear one.
(Poyarok writes.)
Did you write it or not?

POYAROK.
Written.

FEVRONIYA.
Don't blame us for the dead, we are alive:
The city of Kitezh did not fall, but disappeared.
We live in a very lousy place,
which the mind cannot contain in any way;
We prosper like dates,
like fragrant krins,
listening to the sweetest singing
Sirinovo, Alkonostovo.
(to Prince Yuri)
Who will enter this city?
my lord?

PRINCE YURI.
Anyone who does not have a divided mind,
He would rather be in the city than to live in the city.

FEVRONIYA.
Well, goodbye, don’t remember us badly.
May the Lord grant you to repent.
Here's a sign: look at the sky at night,
like pillars of fire blazing;
they will say: the Pazori are playing...
no, then the righteous prayer rises.
Is that what I say?

CHORUS.
Yes, princess.

FEVRONIYA.
Otherwise, put your ear to the ground:
you will hear a blessed and wonderful ringing,
It was as if the vault of heaven was ringing.
Then in Kitezh they ring for matins.
Did you write it, Theodore?

POYAROK.
Wrote.
(Gives the Youth the package.)

FEVRONIYA (to the prince).
Well now let's go, my dear!

CHORUS.
There is no crying or illness here,
sweetness, endless sweetness,
joy is eternal...

The doors of the cathedral swing open, revealing an indescribable light.

End of the story.

“Strelsya” is a dialectal vernacular word equivalent to “met”.
Sloping hill.
This word has the same root as the word “cereals”. That is, initially a green place is a place where cereals grow abundantly, which in ancient times was understood as a guarantee of well-being, and not later as a place of debauchery (Note 2000).
Northern lights.

In 1907, the opera by N.A. appeared. Rimsky-Korsakov "The Legend of the Invisible City of Kitezh and the Maiden Fevronia."

One of the main characters of the opera is the maiden Fevronia, the personification of purity and innocence, carrying the secret Russian folk worldview, incomprehensible to foreign sages for centuries. Fevronia is shown as a person who is above the rituals of official Orthodoxy and carries within herself a direct living religion (a two-way, vitally meaningful connection between man and God) in the inescapable unity of the emotional and semantic structure of her psyche. She is the only person in the entire opera who has this quality, which is expressed in the fact that her actions in all circumstances are unmistakable, i.e. do not aggravate problems, but solve them.

Another main character, Vsevolod Yurievich, is state power. Vsevolod – All-VOLOD Who works. Yuryevich - named after the founder of Moscow Yuri Dolgoruky. He doesn't understand anything, he hunts a bear, i.e. on the Russian peasant, according to the allegorical tradition that has developed throughout the world. Kitezh appears as a multi-level allegorical interconnection of concepts. On the one hand, the capital of the power, which has the full control function. On the other hand, there are two Kitezhes: Small and Great.

Small Kitezh is captured by the enemy, but Great Kitezh is not visible to the enemy. Apparently only a reflection of its beauty and grandeur in the mirror purity of the lake. Small Kitezh - public consciousness, littered and desecrated by the biblical aggressor; Great Kitezh is an ideal of the level of the Russian public “subconscious”, which has preserved its integrity and purity. He is hidden by fog with a golden sheen from everyone who has lost the integrity of their worldview, but the reflection of his objective presence in life is apparently real in the surrounding reality. In the end, statehood - Vsevolod - is united with the people's worldview - Fevronia. The golden biblical fog dissipates and reveals the Great Kitezh - both the capital and the Russian public subconscious, which embodied its ideals in life.

To the prince’s question: “You are a beautiful fairy tale maiden,” Do you go to the Church of God to pray?” — Fevronia answers:

Prince Vsevolod:
Tell me, pretty girl,
Do you go to pray in the Church of God?

Fevronia:
No, I have a long way to go, my dear...
And even then: isn’t God everywhere?
You're thinking: there's empty space here,
But no - the church here is great, -
Look around with smart eyes...

Day and night we have Sunday services,
Day and night there is thyme and incense;
During the day the sun shines for us, the sun is clear,
At night the stars, like candles, will glow.
Day and night we sing sweetly,
What a rejoicing to all the voices, -
Birds, animals, all kinds of breath
They sing about the beautiful light of the Lord.

“Glory to you forever, the sky is bright,
The high throne is wonderful to God the Lord!
The same glory to you, mother earth,
You are a strong footstool for God!”

Prince Vsevolod:
Oh, you beautiful maiden!
Your simple speeches are marvelous to me,
All about joy, fun red.
Old people say differently:
“Do not set your sights on earthly joys,
On earth we must grieve and cry.”
And I would like to go into the desert completely, -
Eh, but youth is a hindrance:
Asks for some good fun.

Fevronia:
(very affectionately and sincerely,
taking his hand and looking into his eyes).
Darling, how can you live without joy?
To be without the fun of red?
Look: all the birds are playing,
The prowling beast is having fun and jumping.
Believe me, it’s not the saved tear,
What flows from melancholy,
Only that saved tear
What from God's joy dews,
And my dear, don’t be afraid of my sin:
We love everyone as he is,
A serious sinner, is he a righteous man?
The beauty of the Lord is in every soul.
Everyone who shot himself was sent by God;
He is in grief, so we need him even more.
Caress me, although I was a villain,
Rejoice with heavenly joy,
(carried away by thought).
And the unprecedented will come true:
Everything will be decorated with beauty,
The earth will flourish like a wondrous garden,
And the trees of paradise will bloom.
Wonderful birds will fly here -
Birds of joy, birds of mercy, -
They will sing in the trees with the voice of angels,
And from the holy heavens there is a crimson ringing,
From behind the clouds an unspeakable light...

In the above dialogue, the official church worldview was expressed through Prince Vsevolod, and through Fevronia, a person’s living, non-ritual faith in God according to conscience. Thanks to the open expression of both positions, the opera acquired special significance in Russian culture and turned out to be significant in the history of Russia. But the Russian “ruling” class - the main consumer of opera - then (in 1907) turned out to be arrogantly stupid and considered opera after its first productions to be “sluggish”, “overly serious in content”, “coldly rational” or “unctuously mystical” “,” “not strict enough towards the traitor Grishka Kuterma” (quotes from reviews of that time).

Let us briefly explain what Fevronia said.

From the point of view of theology, according to the conscience of Russian civilization, everyone in this world, without exception, in their essence, is the messenger of the Almighty to those around them, righteous in some ways, sincerely mistaken in some ways, and in some ways, perhaps, hypocritical or out of greed , or out of fear. As a result of this, God never chooses anyone so that only the one He has chosen will broadcast the truth to everyone else to whom God allegedly denied His direct appeal to them. God does not refuse anyone, but not everyone who grew up outside a righteous culture is able to accept and convey His appeal to others. But, having not received a righteous upbringing in a culture of humanity that has not yet matured, many, under the influence of the oppression of a cultural environment that cultivates in their psyches all kinds of fears, prejudices and inferiority, under the influence of heterogeneous attachments, themselves evade the hidden (from others) appeals of God to them directly through their conscience; they do not heed God’s indirect appeals to them through other people, through cultural monuments and life circumstances.

Therefore, in the ongoing historical era For some (and these are the overwhelming majority), the mission of God's viceroy and His envoy to other people is perverted beyond recognition, others were able to fulfill it more or less successfully, giving direction to the flow of local events and the global historical process for many centuries (there are only a few of them, and about some of them humanity remembers them as prophets - monopolists on the announcement of the truth; and many of their number were themselves sincerely convinced of their exceptional significance). But God owns eternity, and therefore He can wait until the culture of civilization matures to humanity, until everyone is freed from fears, and the kingdom of truth comes due to the fact that everyone will be God’s vicar on Earth without fear, with love and in conscience.


In Rus' there are many legendary and memorable places for Russian people. One of these places is the stunningly beautiful Lake Svetloyar, on the shores of which, according to legend, the ancient city of Kitezh was located. As the legend testifies, an entire city went under water here, the inhabitants of which did not flinch before the enemy force that surrounded it. Even today, local residents can show a curious visitor where the walls of the city and its temples are hidden, with which they relate the covers of coastal hills, and the most impressionable people can even hear the deep sounds of a bell and see the vibrations of the flames of distant candles. Some claim that he was able to see the walls of temples and fortresses under the thickness of the waters. The legend did not arise out of nowhere. The geology of Svetloyarsk is special. Under the modern relief, voids and depressions were discovered, as well as traces of surface failures above some of these places. In addition, the bottom topography of the lake turned out to be unusually complex, which, according to some enthusiastic researchers of Kitezh, may indicate a catastrophe that occurred here. Using modern instruments, hydroacoustics listened to the lake and clearly recorded sounds similar to an alarm bell. It is clear that the version of the failed city did not arise out of nowhere.

This is what the Kitezh Chronicler reports: “And by God’s permission, sin for our sake, the wicked and godless Tsar Batu came to fight in Rus'; You destroyed cities and towns, burned them with fire, you put people to the sword, you stabbed them with a knife as a baby, and there was a great cry.” The noble Prince George, “having prayed to the Lord and the Most Pure Mother of God, gathered his forces and went against the wicked Tsar Batu... And there was a great slaughter and much bloodshed. Then the noble Prince George had few fights, and he fled from the wicked Tsar Batu to Maly Kitezh (now the city of Gorodets, Nizhny Novgorod region - ed.). And he fought a lot with the wicked Tsar Batu, not letting him into the city. When it was night, he secretly left Small Kitezh to Lake Svetly Yar to Big Kitezh. In the morning, the wicked king rose up and took Little Kitezh, and chopped everyone in that city and began to torment a certain person from that city, Grishka Kuterma, and he, who could not endure the torment, led him the way to Lake Svetly Yar, where the noble prince George disappeared. And the wicked King Batu came to the lake...”

In the words of the author of the “Chronicle” there is no anger towards the enemy. He calmly tells us about past events, indicating the reason for the Tatar invasion: “And by God’s permission, it was a sin for our sake.” Not only Svetloyar with its miracles, which are widely performed to this day, testify to the unusualness and grace of this place. From the 13th century to this day, a multi-kilometer clearing has not been overgrown, which, perhaps, was cut by the Tatars, expanding the inconspicuous path leading to Kitezh. This clearing is called the “Batueva trail”. According to legend, the traitor Grishka Kuterma walked along this path ahead of the Tatar warriors.

Probably, only a small part of Batu’s army advanced towards Kitezh: how many soldiers are needed to take a small, poorly defended city. An earthen rampart and a low wall served as some protection for the city from the predatory raids of dashing people or small detachments of Mordvins, Mari, and Bulgarians who plundered small Trans-Volga settlements. Of course, these fortifications could not become an obstacle to a powerful, well-armed army. Impenetrable forests with wide clearing strips, where tree trunks were specially cut down at shoulder level so that, when falling, the tree would create an impassable blockage; swamps and swamps with treacherous charms and shifting quagmires - that was the real obstacle for the Tatars. It was possible to get to Kitezh only along sacred paths and narrow roads. On these paths and roads there were ambushes, which were set up in places so that an unequal battle could be fought - convenient for the defenders and inconvenient for the attackers.

And on that terrible day, a few kilometers from the city, three Kitezh warriors stood in ambush, who had to be the first to accept an unequal battle and a heroic death. Of course, to detain a large detachment of three even for short time difficult. When the Russian soldiers saw the enemy, one of them said to his son: “Run to Kitezh, warn the people!”

The boy ran towards the city, but the Tatar arrow caught up with him. With an arrow in his back, the boy ran to the city and shouted: “Tati!” and fell dead. In the very place (on the bank of Svetloyar) where the boy died, he was buried; his grave with a child’s cross still stands. And where three warriors died, the holy spring Kibelek gushes and three crosses stand in memory of the three dead warriors.

The bells were already ringing in the Kitezh churches, people were already praying for salvation... When the Tatars approached the city, they were very surprised that the city was small and almost unprotected, and there were few defenders. The ringing of the bell seemed simply deafening to the enemy and became louder and louder. The earth trembled, and the whole city began to sink, as if drowning, and in its place, increasing in size, Svetloyar shone with beauty. But the ringing did not stop, it was heard from under the ground, from under the water, louder and louder. And his enemies could not tolerate him. Covering their ears, they ran away; many got lost in dense forests, became prey to wild animals, and drowned in swamps. And the traitor Grigory Kuterma, until the end of his days, heard a loud bell ringing, which soon after the betrayal deprived him of his mind.

“...And from that time on, the city of Greater Kitezh was invisible, and it will remain invisible until the last times. We wrote this book, called “The Chronicler,” a hundred years after the wicked and godless Tsar Batu, laid it in a cathedral and betrayed it to the Saints. Church of God for assurance to all Orthodox Christians who want to read or listen, and not scold this Divine Scripture. What if any person scolds or laughs at this scripture, and all of them, that he will not scoff at us, but at God himself and the Most Holy Theotokos. Glory to the glorious God in the Trinity, who has kept and preserved this place for the sake of the blessed dwelling of his invisible saints forever and ever. Amen".

In Izhevsk, on April 15 and 19, 2018, the opera “The Tale of the Invisible City of Kitezh and the Maiden Fevronia” was staged. This opera is practically unknown to the audience of our country, since the country's opera houses rarely turn to it, and if they do, they greatly distort the opera. We set ourselves the task of showing the significance of this opera for Rus'-Russia and revealing the second semantic series, important for understanding the past, present and future of our civilization.

The website of the Udmurt Opera and Ballet Theater tells us the following information about the opera:

A little over a hundred years ago, in the early 1900s, Russian composer Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov began his fourteenth and penultimate opera. Its plot was based on two ancient Russian legends of the 13th century - about the “Invisible City of Kitezh” and the legend about St. Princess Fevronia of Murom, which were firmly united in the composer’s mind. In the legend of Kitezh, the real events of the era of Tatar-Mongol rule acquired a fantastic coloring: the city was saved from destruction by the Tatars by God's providence - it became invisible and became a place ideal life. Together with the poet Vladimir Belsky, Rimsky-Korsakov worked long and meticulously on the libretto, the source of which was chronicles, legends, tales, folk songs, epics and spiritual poems. The composer was very pleased with the libretto; it turned out to be outstanding, combining epic and lyricism, heroism and fantasy, and most importantly, completely Russian. The opera presents a gallery of bright national types: the ideal image of a Russian woman, faithful and loving, ready for heroism; the dramatic image of Grishka Kuterma, morally broken; warrior-defenders going to their death.

The composer himself, and after him the researchers, consider “The Legend” to be the pinnacle of Rimsky-Korsakov’s work. But, despite all the perfection of the opera, it strangely provokes discussions and is not included in the permanent repertoire of theaters. And her contemporaries received her ambiguously. Perhaps the fact is that Rimsky-Korsakov, while working on an opera that was formally epic, almost fabulous, put into it forebodings about the fate of the country.

The beginning of the 20th century... The pendulum hovered at its highest point, time stood still, another moment - and it would inevitably swing in the opposite direction, picking up speed, sweeping away everything in its path. For Russia, this is not the first and not the last time - the pendulum is swinging, which means that a change in times is inevitable, history will repeat itself: the Mongol-Tatar yoke, revolutions, domestic wars... Men will fight, traitors will betray, and women will pray. And it is not so important what shirts or uniforms are worn by those who are ready to die for their Motherland. Kitezh, an invisible city that arose by God's providence, awaits them.

“Everyone who does not have a divided mind will prefer to live in the city.”

In the new production, freed from the exact time reference to the Russian Middle Ages, the opera gains greater freedom in the interpretation of images: among the defenders of Kitezh, people in pea coats flash, the silhouette of the enemy Tatars resembles knightly armor... Times and eras merge, and the same transformations, and literal ones, are also space: forest, cell, city, church are one thing - a place where everyone chooses their own path. Does this path lead to the invisible city?

http://operaizh.ru/actiondetail.php?id=45

WHAT IS OPERA?

To move on to a discussion of the opera “The Tale of the Invisible City of Kitezh and the Maiden Fevronia,” it is necessary first of all to say a few words about what opera is and why is it needed?

People communicate with each other through speech, to which they attach one or another meaning. This subjective meaning is a kind of “tracing copy” of the objective meaning. This “tracing paper” is the more pure and adequate the more accurate (verified) the feelings and the entire attunement of the human psyche. The process of generating speech is mostly concentrated in the unconscious levels of the psyche (since the process of endowing images with codes-words occurs primarily automatically, that is, unconsciously). At this time, consciousness and will can solve some other operational tasks. And such situations are possible when a person, being unable to control the process of speaking with his will (works at the level of consciousness), is able to express orally and in writing opinions that are significantly higher than his own current understanding of the world (belongs to the level of consciousness in the human psyche), and before understanding which he himself still has to grow and grow, perhaps throughout his life.

Just as several people doing common work in a team should be attuned to each other in business, so the speech of people should also be attuned so that there is no discord. The whole world “sounds” in different ranges, and its “sound” affects a person, and the “sound” of a person also affects the world. Inadequate, incompatible “sounding” can lead to destructive consequences for a person and the world.

When a person understands that the world is one and complete, he begins to feel that the “sound” of the world is a perfect harmonious symphony. And you begin to think about how to bring your own “sound” into harmony with the symphony of the world. If he begins to take care of this in a conscious and volitional manner, then his feelings become sharpened and calibrated, the spectrum of perception of Life through them expands. And the person finds himself carried away by the spiral flow of his own development. He can easily maintain himself in it without experiencing fatigue if he feels the phenomenon of coherence (timeliness) and his behavior is coherent (timely) in relation to the dynamics of the encompassing processes, up to the process of Omnipotence.

In the normal, undeveloped culture of human society, the culture of oral and written speech organically grows from musical culture. And through musical culture it inevitably turns out to be connected with the culture of bodily and spiritual plasticity, the culture of “dance” in itself. in a general sense this word as the “dance of life”.

This means that articulate speech expresses a certain internal music of the personality, and words fall on this music, or (if these are the words of another person) the internal music of the personality is capable of rejecting them in cases where they do not express the internal music of another personality that is not “consonant” with it. This means that the current culture, in which music, speech and dance are mutually disconnected and isolated from each other, is unnatural and does not correspond to human nature.

From these ideological positions, a special view of the art of opera opens up, allowing us to understand its special role in culture. At first glance, common to many, the art of opera is perhaps the most isolated form of artistic creativity, which, in terms of the artificiality and conventionality of the expressive (i.e., linguistic - in the broadest sense of the word) means used in it, is superior only to ballet and openly naked abstractionism (of course, if it is abstractionism that carries some ideas and emotions, which are extremely difficult or impossible to express through the means of “realistic art”, and not an abstract-like product of a sick psyche).

The basis of this kind of opinion about the non-life of the art of opera lies precisely in the fact that in the operatic action music, text, stage action, dances, and scenery are fused together and mutually determine each other, through which the opera displays life in one or another of its manifestations, in while in the most real life, accessible to the perception of everyone, people speak, but do not sing, talking with each other; they dance not in squares and streets, but in specially designated places; and music, even if it accompanies the life and activities of people, is only from the speaker of the receiver or player - in our days; and before the advent of the electronic era, everyday life for the most part went on for thousands of years without music, which only brightened up rare holidays or set the general rhythm in the work of groups.

However, contrary to such opinions about the art of opera, it is precisely this art that is the most full-blooded system of reflecting real life in artistic creativity. Let's start with the fact that music belongs to the sound range of mechanical vibrations that a person perceives by ear. Depending on what kind of vibrations these are, a person perceives melodies, accompaniment and arrangements, harmony or cacophony, etc., and the organism (body and biofield), psyche (information and algorithms characteristic of the individual) in some way respond to the sound of music in addition to the will of the people themselves. But in the Nature surrounding each of us and in every person, there are many other vibrations that do not belong to the sound range or are not mechanical vibrations, and therefore are not perceived by ear. At the same time, it is necessary to understand that the patterns of oscillatory processes are the same in their essence throughout the entire frequency range for each of the types of oscillations that are characteristic of certain types of matter. In other words, the World around us “sounds,” and we all “sound” in it, but only a small part of this universal sound is mechanical vibrations and belongs to the sound frequency range and is perceived by us at the level of consciousness as sounds, including those ordered in some way the sounds that are called "music".

The boundary separating every personality in the Universe is conditional in the sense that the general natural (physical) fields included in a person’s biofield extend far from the location of his material body and merge with similar general natural fields of other objects and subjects. And on the basis of this kind of biofield interaction of personality and Life, a person at the unconscious levels of his psyche has access to much of the “sounding” of Life that takes place outside the audio frequency range and outside mechanical vibrations. But if there are various kinds of oscillatory processes, then they also have what is called harmony and dissonance. A person whose feelings and psyche are in harmony with Life himself acts harmoniously in the world, avoiding dissonance in his relationship with Life, helping to eliminate destructive processes around him that are expressed in some kind of dissonance. A person whose feelings and psyche are not in harmony with Life, himself acts disharmoniously in the world, generating dissonance and avoiding harmony in his relationships with Life and unnaturally destroying the harmony around him and in himself, which is expressed in some new dissonances in relation to embracing harmony.

That is, we live in a World in which our own music “sounds”, harmonious music, in which there are dissonances:

  • or episodes that arise mostly during not very successful transitions from one mode of functioning of natural and artificial systems to other modes;
  • or some painful phenomena that are suppressed by Life itself if they acquire a tendency to a stable course and further spread. And the artistic way of life precisely in such a diverse “sounding” Universe is shown to a person out of all the many types of arts developed in culture - only opera.

In opera, everything complements each other and demonstrates the significance of each other: music, leading the stage action and carrying the texts; stage action taking place against the backdrop of scenery and leading music; scenery that emphasizes the meaning of stage action and text, while matching the music, helping to perceive both it and the artistic integrity of the opera. In other words, an opera that is good in all its components and their interrelations - both as a genre and as a specific work of this genre - is a very important thing in the culture of any nation. But the art of opera is characterized by a division of those involved in the stage action into actors and musicians - on the one hand, and on the other hand - into spectators. In a round dance (unlike an opera), all its participants are both actors and spectators, and therefore in a round dance music, text and dance merge together like nowhere else.

Round dance has been one of the attributes of Russian culture since ancient times and one of the means for people to realize the collective magic of the people as part of their natural life.

Let's return to the production of the opera “The Tale of the Invisible City of Kitezh and the Maiden Fevronia” by the Udmurt Opera and Ballet Theater.

Rimsky-Korsakov wrote in the preface to the score: “When staging the story on stage, no cuts or breaks in the music can be allowed as they distort the artistic meaning and musical form.” This condition is constantly violated during production, and “The Tale” itself is the least known of Russian epic operas.

The author of the libretto is N.A. Rimsky-Korsakov’s friend Vladimir Ivanovich Belsky. I. Martynov, the author of the text of the insert, gives an assessment of the text of V.I. Belsky’s libretto: “there is not a single little thing that was not, in one way or another, inspired by a feature of some kind of poem, plot, or other layer of Russian folk art.”

In the modern production by N. Markelov, the most significant parts of the opera were thrown out as insignificant, and the scenery diverged greatly from the musical and textual part of the opera, presenting a kind of kaleidoscope, similar to the kaleidoscope in the head of Grishka Kuterma. Thus, N. Markelov staged not “The Legend...” at all, but a kind of performance that distorted the original meaning of “The Legend...” laid down by Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov and Vladimir Belsky. Now about everything in more detail.

In our opinion, “The Tale” is the highest achievement of opera in Russia. In this opera, the authors, having begun to create within the limitations of traditional biblical culture, were able to come close to its borders, look beyond them, but were unable to break free from them.

Act one

In the dense forests near Small Kitezh there lives a girl named Fevronia. She grew up in the wilderness, far from people, and learned to understand the language of nature, the language of birds and animals. One evening, a young man with a silver horn at his belt, who looks like a princely hunter, approaches her house. While hunting for a bear, he received a wound in the shoulder, got lost and now does not know how to get out of the forest thickets. Fevronia warmly greets the stranger, bandages his wound, and brings out bread and honey. The girl’s affectionate, intelligent speeches and her beauty win the heart of a young stranger. He asks Fevronia to become his wife. The girl answers in embarrassment: “My dear, I’m afraid of something... The prince’s hunter is no match for me...” The sounds of hunting horns are heard in the forest. The stranger, having put a ring on Fevronia’s finger, leaves. The princely archers appear. They are looking for a young man with a silver horn. Pointing out the path along which her fiancé left, Fevronia asks his name and hears in response: “That was our Lord Vsevolod, Prince Yury’s little child, they reign together in the capital Kitezh.”

Act two

On the shopping square in Maly Kitezh, people are waiting for the wedding train with the prince's bride. There is excitement everywhere. Only the “best people” (the rich townspeople) do not share in the general jubilation. They are dissatisfied with the prince’s choice: after all, the bride has no family, no tribe. They got the dissolute hawk-moth Grishka Kuterma drunk, and now he mocks the prince's bride. The bells of the approaching wedding train can be heard. The people greet Fevronia, only Grishka Kuterma mocks her. Suddenly, disaster strikes the city. Hordes of Tatars capture Maly Kitezh. The massacre of the residents begins. Fevronia is taken prisoner, and the princely hunter Fyodor Poyark is blinded. The Tatars are planning to go to Great Kitezh, but the people refuse to show them the way. Only Kuterma, fearing torment, agrees to lead the enemies to his hometown. The Tatars leave, taking Fevronia with them. She prays to God to work a miracle and make the city invisible.

Act three

Picture one. At midnight, all the people, young and old, with weapons in their hands, gathered in front of the Assumption Cathedral in Kitezh the Great. With difficulty, the blind Fyodor Poyarok reached the city and told the people about the terrible disaster: Small Kitezh fell, Fevronia was captured, the Tatar hordes were moving towards Kitezh. Prince Vsevolod gathers a squad and leaves for a mortal battle with the Tatars. Meanwhile, the church bells begin to ring by themselves. A light fog with a golden sheen envelops the city.

Picture two. In the oak grove on the shore of Lake Svetly Yar, everything is shrouded in thick fog. The Tatar heroes Bedyai and Burundai emerge from the thicket. They peer into the darkness, but cannot make out the outlines of the city. Tatar troops are stationed on the shore, dividing the spoils, celebrating the victory over Prince Vsevolod and his squad. Having become drunk, the Tatars fall asleep. Fevronia approaches the tied up Kuterma. Without remembering evil, she frees him from his bonds. It's getting light. The mess runs to the lake and stops dead in its tracks. The first rays of dawn illuminate the reflection of the capital city in the lake above the empty shore. Holiday bells ring solemnly and loudly. Kuterma loses his mind and runs into the forest with a wild laugh, dragging Fevronia with him. The Tatars are waking up. Seeing this wonderful picture, gripped by an unaccountable superstitious fear, they scatter.

Act four

Picture one. Dark night. Fevronia and the mad Kuterma make their way through the dense thicket. Fevronia tries to console and encourage the unfortunate man, but Kuterma runs away into the forest. Left alone, exhausted Fevronia sinks onto the grass and falls asleep. She dreams of wonderful golden flowers, the singing of spring birds. The voices of the birds of paradise Alkonost and Sirin are heard, calling for patience, promising eternal peace and joy. The shadow of the prince appears. And the bride and groom walk hand in hand towards eternal life.

Picture two. The fog clears and reveals a wonderfully transformed Kitezh. Fevronia and the prince enter the square and head towards the cathedral. The people surround them and sing a wedding song to the sounds of the harp and heavenly pipe.

Before reading the second part, we strongly recommend that you familiarize yourself with the libretto of the opera...

http://kob-media.ru/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/Skazanie_o_grade_Kitege.doc

ABOUT HOW THE EPIC FOLK WORLDVIEW IS TRANSFORMED INTO A CONSCIOUS PHILOSOPHICAL METHODOLOGICAL CULTURE

The epic plot reflected in the opera is concrete, but at the same time it is a mutual nesting of allegories of varying breadth and depth of generalizations. Based on real historical events, the epic tells not about how it really was, but about how it should have been: how it should be in the present and how it will be in the future. Information of the past, present and future is very densely packed into the epic tale.

In addition, in the specificity of the narrative, its social boundaries, which are very narrow, contain the entire information base (its conceptual part, first of all) of the living language of the people. The degree of mastery of the information base, which objectively exists in each language and is only transmitted by its lexical forms, allows one to reveal an epic allegory. But the depth of disclosure is determined by the system of stereotypes used to recognize phenomena in the external and internal worlds of a person.

Using the Biblical-Orthodox system of stereotypes, the director (chief choreographer of the Udmurt Opera and Ballet Theater) N. Markelov gives his interpretation of events in an interview with the radio “Komsomolskaya Pravda (Izhevsk)”:

“What is the main metaphor? The main metaphor is about the unity of the Russian people... Clearly expressed national idea with serious religious overtones. This is a conversation about two Russias. This is the Russia that I see in the image of Grisha Kuterma, this is the Russia that deals with demons, and the Russia that leaves and then returns, like the Phoenix bird, which at a certain moment spreads its wings and such a Russian renaissance occurs again... in history we can see this repeatedly.”

Anna Popova, head of the literary and dramatic department of the Udmurt Opera and Ballet Theater:

“Now it’s coming back to us... It (opera - author’s note) is coming back now for some reason, because some time has come, because people are ready, the theater is ready, the orchestra is ready, people are ready to take on it, and we hope that the viewer is ready..."

Nikolay Markelov:

“We remember those times when church domes flew and crosses were destroyed. Rimsky-Korsakov foresaw and foresaw all this... church domes without crosses, and princely mansions without princes... These are absolutely prophetic words. And this will probably be a subject of debate - our concept... For some reason, the prince introduced himself to us as our last tsar, and his father, such a kind, great Tsar Alexander the Third... The latter Romanov himself very much regretted, where did this Moscow principality go, with us there is no dialogue with the people. This is a catastrophe that we know what led to... Gregory is Judas, who betrays and tells the way to Great Kitezh... This is Grigory Rasputin, who opened that Pandora's box and captured the minds of the royal family."

We use a different methodology, with a different system for recognizing phenomena, and we see the Orthodox Christian city only on the surface. We look deeper, where those who are lost in the biblical golden mist do not penetrate, hence their horror of the collapse of churches. Is it possible for something to happen without a cause? Certainly not. But if this happened, then a natural question arises - who was the first to renounce the tsar, what role did the church play in the collapse of the state and themselves?

AND NOW LET'S GO TO THE OPERA ITSELF

“The Tale of the Invisible City of Kitezh and the Maiden Fevronia” is one of the most significant works of Russian opera classics. It is characterized by a combination of epic and lyric poetry, heroic and fantastic motifs of folk poetry. The plot is based on an ancient Russian legend of the 13th century, the era of Tatar-Mongol rule. Real historical events took on a fantastic coloring in it. According to legend, the city of Kitezh was saved from destruction by the Tatars by “God’s will”: it became invisible and became a place of ideal, according to popular understanding, earthly life.

Before the viewer passes a gallery of bright national types, unprecedentedly new on the opera stage. This is Fevronia - the ideal image of a Russian woman, faithful and loving, wise and benevolent, modest and selflessly devoted, ready for the feat of self-sacrifice. She is sharply contrasted with the image of Kuterma, stunning in its drama and life truth - a morally broken man, crushed by poverty. In terms of its social and accusatory power, this image has no equal in world operatic literature. The tragic fates of the main characters are shown in inseparable connection with the fate of the people experiencing the difficult times of the Tatar invasion, against the backdrop of pictures of Russian nature, folk life, and the patriotic struggle against a ruthless enemy. In accordance with the content of folk legends, along with the real ones, magical pictures of heavenly nature and the miraculously transformed city of Kitezh appear in the opera.

“The Tale of the Invisible City of Kitezh and the Maiden Fevronia” is a legendary opera in 4 acts. The slow development of the action, the abundance of broad expressive melodies of a song-Russian character give the opera an original national coloring, the flavor of distant hoary antiquity.

The orchestral introduction “In Praise of the Desert” paints a picture of a forest with the rustling of leaves and birdsong; Fevronia's melodies sound here.

One of the most important sources"Kitezh", which predetermines the religious concept of the opera, is the life of Fevronia of Murom.

Fevronia from the opera is a maiden, the personification of purity and innocence, carrying a secret folk worldview, incomprehensible to foreign sages and those captive to their delusions for centuries.

To the prince's question:
Tell me, pretty girl,
Do you go to pray in the Church of God?
Fevronia.
No, I have a long way to go, my dear...
And even then: isn’t God everywhere?
You're thinking: there's empty space here,
But no - the church here is great, -
Look around with smart eyes
(reverently, as if seeing himself in church).
Day and night we have Sunday services,
Day and night there is thyme and incense;
During the day the sun (sun) is shining for us, clear,
At night the stars, like candles, will glow.
Day and night we sing sweetly,
What a rejoicing to all the voices, -
Birds, animals, all kinds of breath
They sing about the beautiful light of the Lord.
“Glory to you forever, the sky is bright,
The high throne is wonderful to God the Lord!
The same glory to you, mother earth,
You are a strong footstool for God!”
Knyazhich Vsevolod(looks at Fevronia in amazement).
Oh, you beautiful maiden!
Your simple speeches are marvelous to me,
All about joy, fun red.
Old people say differently:
“Do not set your sights on earthly joys,
On earth we must grieve and cry.”
And I would like to go into the desert completely, -
Eh, but youth is a hindrance:
Asks for some good fun.
Fevronia(very affectionately and soulfully, taking him by the hand and looking into his eyes).
Darling, how can you live without joy?
To be without the fun of red?
Look: all the birds are playing,
The prowling beast is having fun and jumping.
Believe me, it’s not the saved tear,
What flows from melancholy,
Only that saved tear
What grows from God's joy,
And my dear, don’t be afraid of my sin:
We love everyone as he is,
A serious sinner, is he a righteous man?
The beauty of the Lord is in every soul.
Everyone who shot himself (met - our note) was sent by God;
He is in grief, so we need him even more.
Caress me, although I was a villain,
Rejoice with heavenly joy (carrying away in thought).
And the unprecedented will come true:
Everything will be decorated with beauty,
The earth will flourish like a wondrous garden,
And the trees of paradise will bloom.
Wonderful birds will fly here -
Birds of joy, birds of mercy, -
They will sing in the trees with the voice of angels,
And from the holy heavens there is a crimson ringing,
From behind the clouds an unspeakable light...

Here, a misunderstanding of the directors of the Udmurt Theater has already been revealed, who cut out part of the text and thereby “cut off” Fevronia’s worldview, that is, they did not allow people to fully understand how the essence of Russian theology differs from the biblical one.

Fevronia lives far from power and civilization. As the Russian proverb says:

“no matter the city, it’s faith, no matter the village, it’s measure.”

Fevronia discovered a natural system of information coding. She perceives life in its fullness and integrity. She herself is not eager for state power. Power in the form of a prince comes to her on her own, because the “elite” bearers of power are blind. Without smart eyes, the “elite” always feels bad, thanks to the efforts of the “faithful” Mosaicites, who distorted the Revelations when recording them and therefore lost their Discrimination.

Accordingly, Fevronia’s constant feeling of the integrity of the world in its trinity is incomprehensible to Prince Vsevolod Yuryevich, which raises his question about her occasional observance of the external rituals of the temple, which was initially alien to Russia. The worldview of the “elite” does not rise above the understanding of external ritualism.

Vsevolod Yurievich - state power. Vsevolod is the VOLODER of EVERYONE. Yuryevich - named after the founder of Moscow Yuri Dolgoruky. He doesn't understand anything. Hunts a bear, i.e. on the Russian peasant, according to the allegorical tradition that has developed throughout the world. I received a wound from a man because of my misunderstanding. Fevronia's clever speeches attract him; he has the awareness that he is missing something.

The best people(to each other):
That's why the rootless need is glad,
That's screaming and mocking! —
And even then I’ll say: isn’t it a joke?
Everyone became related to the prince. —
It’s a wedding, what a disaster!
Our women are furious
They don’t want to bow to the bride:
Like without a clan and without a tribe.

The “best people” are the social “elite”. She fears more than fire the unification of state power with the people's worldview.

Grishka Kuterma- “elite” and bohemian intelligentsia; she does not understand anything and always serves the “elite”, be it her own or an alien one, and mocks everything popular. She is mad initially, but her madness is only later realized by everyone around her.

Poyarok: And when they grabbed me, they laughed a lot...
After blinding them, they sent a messenger
With this little boy to Prince Yury...

Fedor Poyarok- part of the intelligentsia trying to honestly serve the people. She is blinded by the cultural aggressor and therefore does not see the general course of processes in the Universe.

Horde- symbol of the aggressor. The fact that they are Tatars is a particular thing in the epic; concreteness, personifying the forces of Evil. Their ethnic origin, i.e. form, in the plot does not manifest itself in any meaningful way.

— multi-level allegorical inter-nesting of concepts. On the one hand, there is the capital of the state, which has full control functions.

On the other hand, there are two Kitezhes: Small and Great.

Small Kitezh is captured by the enemy, but Great Kitezh is not visible to the enemy. Apparently only a reflection of its beauty and grandeur in the mirror purity of the lake. Maly Kitezh- public consciousness, littered and defaced by the aggressor - biblical Western culture in all its modifications.

Great Kitezh- the ideal of the level of the public “subconscious” (collective unconscious - the Russian spirit), which has preserved integrity and purity. He is hidden by fog with a golden sheen from everyone who has lost the integrity of their worldview, but the reflection of his objective presence in life is apparently real in the surrounding reality.

Tatars(they grumble):
Oh, you Rus', damned land!
There is no straight road
Yes, and the paths are littered
We sing, we shoot, we beat.
And our steppe komoni
People stumble over roots;
From the fog from the swamp
The Tatar spirit is engaged,
Even though they beat the good army,
The third day we are still wandering around in vain.
(To the mess).
You made us faint, drunkard,
He took us to deserted places!
They surround Kuterma with threats; he throws himself at the feet of the heroes.
Mess(with desperate determination.)
You can’t escape the absolute torment,
I don't belong in this world!
I'll throw myself into the pool,
I will live with dark demons,
Play leapfrog with them at night.

He rushes to the lake and stops at the shore, rooted to the spot. The first rays of dawn illuminate the surface of the lake and the reflection of the capital city in the lake under the empty shore. The festive ringing rings, becoming louder and more solemn. The mess rushes back to Fevronia.

Mess(pointing at the lake in mad surprise):
Where the demon was, there is God now;
Where God was, there was nothing!
Where is the demon now, princess?
Laughs madly.
Ahaha! Let's run, my dear!
“He” tells me to find the city in Kitezh...

He runs away with a wild cry, dragging Fevronia with him. His cry woke up the Tatars.

Hence the superstitious, unaccountable horror of the “victor” enemy and the crazy Kutermy-Kaleidoscope (double surname) serving him.

Late in the evening, Kuterma led the enemy to the lake, behind which the city was located. The enemy army indulged in revelry. When all the enemies calmed down under the influence of drink and fatigue, Fevronia early in the morning frees Kuterma from his bonds, but by this time he had completely lost his mind. Seeing the reflection of the city in the lake under the visibly empty shore, Kuterma runs away into the forest, dragging Fevronia with him. After that, they wander, and Fevronia takes care of him like a little child, teaching him about life and prayer. As a result, Fevronia passes into another reality and finds herself in the hidden Kitezh. And Kuterma remains to live on Earth. But also in a different reality of Kitezh.

Alkonost and Sirin- in Russian fairy tales, prophetic birds with female faces. To one, future misfortunes are open, to the other, future joys. Fevronia - receives information from them. Statehood - Vsevolod is united with the people's worldview - Fevronia.

The golden fog dissipates and reveals the Great Kitezh - both the capital and the public subconscious, which embodied its ideals in life: i.e. the beginning and end of all contours of management in society - the conceptual power of the people reaches a conscious level of management according to the predictor-corrector scheme (predictor-corrector). That is, people learn to predict the consequences of their actions, adjust control (rather than go with the flow of life) and take control into their own hands.

Fevronia in “The Legend…” is a pagan monotheist who stands outside the official church (as we saw earlier). And she assures Grishka Kuterma, who has become possessed after betrayal, that he is not a lost soul, even after everything he has done, if only he sincerely repents to God. And this is her constant position, expressed through all the actions of the opera until the finale:

Prince Vsevolod:
Oh, you are a faithful bride!
It's time for us to go to God's church,
To the Church of God, to the golden crown.
Fevronia (with an affectionate request).
My dear, desired groom!
Grishenka remained there in the forest;
He is weak in soul and body,
That the child has become a mind...
How can Grishenka be brought into this city?
Prince Yuri:
The time has not come Grishino:
The heart in him does not ask for the light.
Fevronia:
Oh, at least send a letter,
Grisha's small consolation,
Good news to the lesser brethren!
Prince Yuri:
So what? Fyodor will write a letter,
The little lad will report to Grisha:
Let it spread throughout Rus'
God's miracles are great.
Fevronia (Poyarku):
Well, write. What can I not do?
Good people will tell you the story.
(Poyarok places a long scroll on the turned railing of the prince’s porch and prepares to write. Fevronia and the princes are near her.)
Fevronia(telling Poyark what to write):
Grishenka, even though you are weak in mind,
And I’m writing to you dear. (Poyarok writes)
Did you write it or not?
Poyarok:
Written.
Fevronia:
Don't blame us for the dead, we are alive:
The city of Kitezh did not fall, but only disappeared.
We live in a very lousy place,
Which the mind cannot contain in any way.
We flourish like dates,
Aki krina are fragrant;
Let's listen to the sweetest singing
Sirinovo, Alkonostovo...
(to Prince Yuri)
Who will enter this city, my lord?
Prince Yuri(prompting the scribe).
Anyone who does not have a divided mind,
He would rather be in the city than to live.

This is real Orthodoxy, but it is very far from the Bible. The mind of biblical civilization is not only divided, but scattered into dust. So that the mind is not scattered, the “esotericism” of the “elite” should not deny the obvious teaching common to all, but after that it will cease to be esoteric in the traditional sense of the word, and the “elite” ceases to be an “elite”. Society will become managerially literate and conceptually powerful.

Fevronia(continuing the message):
Well, goodbye, don’t remember us badly,
May the Lord grant you to repent!
Here's a sign: look at the sky at night,
Like pillars of fire blazing.
They will say: the Pazori are playing... no,
Then the righteous prayer rises.
(to everyone)
Is that what I say?
People:
Yes, princess.
Fevronia(again to Poyarku): Otherwise, put your ear to the ground:
You will hear a benign and wonderful ringing,
As if the vault of heaven was ringing
Then in Kitezh they ring for matins.
Did you write it, Theodore?
Poyarok:
Wrote.
Fevronia(to the prince):
Well, let's go now, let's go, my dear!
Prince Vsevolod takes Fevronia by the hand and leads her to the cathedral.
People(seeing them off):
No crying here
No illness
Sweetness, sweetness
Endless
Joy
Eternal...

The doors of the Assumption Cathedral swing open, revealing an indescribable light.

This concludes the opera. But the moral and ideological prologue to such a conclusion was shown in the first act, thus the opera is looped.

In the above dialogue, the official church worldview was expressed through Prince Vsevolod, and through Fevronia, a person’s living, non-ritual faith in God in conscience.

ABOUT SHAME AND CONSCIENCE...

Fevronia and Vsevolod openly reflect two different worldviews. Thanks to this, the opera acquired special significance in Russian culture and turned out to be significant in the history of Russia. But the Russian ruling class - the main consumer of opera - then turned out to be arrogantly stupid and considered the opera after its first productions to be “sluggish”, “overly serious in content”, “coldly rational” or “unctuously mystical”, “not strict enough in relation to to the traitor Grishka-Kuterma."

V.O. Klyuchevsky, in one of his aphorisms, characterized his “elite” contemporaries - the Russian ruling class - as follows:

“He lied so much that he doesn’t believe himself even when he tells the truth. Whom he will not betray when he betrays himself every minute: this is self-Judas.”

“They have no conscience, but an awful lot of resentment: they are not ashamed to do dirty tricks, but cannot stand the reproach of dirty tricks.”

And those “Samoyudas” who were not satisfied with the mercy of the plot in relation to the fallen Grishka Kuterma and wanted cruel retribution for him - themselves received the most severe retribution during the revolution and civil war. What it means: refusal and inability to exercise mercy on the fallen, especially after this has been pointed out directly and repeatedly, is not supported from Above.

The opinion about the ease of retribution with shame expresses a kind of vindictiveness and in its essence is erroneous and false. In the living Russian language, the concept of shame is associated not with the judgment that takes place after something has been done, but with the reprehensibility of unworthy human behavior. Reprehensibility is one of the components of God’s act of Predestination of existence, and therefore forestalls the unworthy.

One of the meanings of the word “shame”, “stud” in V.I. Dahl’s Dictionary is defined as follows:

“Shame (...) a feeling or inner consciousness of the REJECTIONABLE (emphasis added when quoting), humiliation, self-condemnation, repentance and humility, inner confession to conscience.”

Among the proverbs and folk sayings V.I.Dal there is also this:

“People’s shame (that is, someone else’s shame: our explanation when quoting) is laughter, and your own is death.”

And in essence, shame for many turns out to be worse than death, as a result of which, unable to bear shame in life, they choose death and commit suicide in the groundless hope of escaping shame after death, even in those cultures where religious doctrine promises endless hell as retribution for suicide. Shame seems more unbearable to them than hell.

The opinion about the supposed insignificance and ease of atonement for sins, especially those committed with malicious intent, through the knowledge of shame is an expression of a certain vindictiveness and moral and ethical unconsciousness: those who think so have forgotten their feelings at the first wave of shame that rolled over them (most likely ) V early childhood, when they first felt that they had done something unworthy of a person. Then we all learned to move away from shame and suppress it within ourselves. But the shame of the “day of judgment” - the Day of Shame - to which everyone who abuses God’s merciful Predestination condemns himself, no one can suppress, and there will be nowhere to escape from it. Therefore, even knowing that in God’s Predestination of existence there is no place for endless hell, one should not abuse God’s mercy even within the limits He allows (for each individual). Moreover, you should know and understand, correlate with your life, that those who commit something unworthy of a person through a sincere mistake are allowed to do what is suppressed in relation to those who are informed that what they are doing is a PREDEPENDED evil; and in suppressing their activities in life one of the types of protecting them from unbearable shame on the Day of Shame is expressed.

And the name “Shameful Day” evokes much more unpleasant sensations in the soul than the usual names “Doomsday”, “Last Judgment”, precisely because in life, although we are not afraid of shame as much as we are afraid of some kind of danger, We always try to avoid its untold impact. Most best way to avoid shame is to sincerely strive for righteousness, and then God will help you avoid the unpleasant, inexpressible, but ennobling, transforming effects of shame.

But hell, Gehenna can still exist - as an egregor (the collective spirit of people definitely connected with each other), which captivates the souls of sinners due to the principles of its construction. However, it was created and fueled by the energy and information of the fears, horrors and evil thoughts of the people themselves. Heaven, like the antipode of hell, can exist on the same principles of energy information support. It is useful to know that the system of pagan beliefs of Rus' in pre-Epiphany times did not include teachings about eternal hell and heaven, and the Russians were free from moral terror and moral bribery of this kind; terror is not anonymous, but carried out by the spiritual police of the occupiers - the hierarchs of the “Orthodox” church.

However, we live in an era when what has been said is one of many, incompatible opinions about God, about His Predestination and about His Providence, and not the everyday reality of the endless goodness in all respects and meanings of existence of everyone without exception. But there is no compulsion to faith and religion.

CONCLUSION

It is possible that someone will not like this interpretation of the “Tale”. In this case, we can only bring forward against him the “accusation of being Russian-speaking,” traditional for recent years. This means that a person has mastered the lexical forms and grammar of the Russian language, but under this linguistic form there is a meaning generated not by Russian culture (but most often by biblical culture). Being Russian-speaking is not a crime against Russian culture, provided that through Russian-speaking a different national culture is revealed to Russians. But if, through Russian-speaking, the destruction of the national cultures of all the peoples of the country occurs through non-national internationalism, then the indignation of the internationalist at such an interpretation of the “Tale” is quite appropriate. The literalness of “The Tale of the City of Kitezh” describes the process. Therefore, the question arises about the chronological boundaries of the beginning and end of the allegory. The beginning has two chronological boundaries.

First— the mockingly violent baptism of Rus' by the “elite” into Byzantism, i.e. Vsevolod's "bear" hunt begins. Second- the end of the 19th century, when Russian statehood turned to the worldview culture of the people, their epic, one of the many expressions of which was the appearance of N. A. Rimsky-Korsakov’s opera itself.

The “elite” intelligentsia turned to the epic worldview of the people - this is the beginning of the final phase of the process of transforming the epic worldview into the people's historical, philosophical, methodological culture.

The “Wedding of Vsevolod and Fevronia” did not take place then due to the invasion of the cultural aggressor and the conspiracy of Grishka Kuterma with him. The death of Vsevolod in the battle at Kerzhenets - the First World War of the twentieth century and the civil war of 1917 - 20. There is also an episode in “The Tale” that can be chronologically precisely tied to modern times. Dawn over Svetly Yar, when the aggressor and Grishka Kuterma-Kaleidoscope see the reflection of the capital city in the lake under the apparently empty shore and hear the solemn buzz of the bells of Great Kitezh. The dawn began in 1989, when the most far-sighted “democrats” began to notice that market restructuring was perceived by many as a betrayal of the interests of workers. This is a common point for both the low-frequency process, which began with the baptism of Rus', and the high-frequency process, which began with the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th centuries, when the opera was written. The development trends of both processes currently coincide, and this is a favorable period for translation social system into the state described by the last scene of the opera. It's time for Grishka-Kaleidoscope to either cure his madness or run into the forest.

What do we see in the Udmurt production? The biblical worldview and worldview of N. Markelov led to the removal of the second most important fragment, which completes the opera. At the same time, the first fragment, cut in half, was accompanied in every possible way by biblical life-dead symbolism in order to close the perception of the libretto text at the level of consciousness and the musical images of Rimsky-Korsakov at the subconscious level (although it is possible that the director did this unconsciously). In this sense, it is useful to compare the production of the Astrakhan Opera and Ballet Theater with the production of the Udmurt Theater, which is largely free from deadening biblicalism.

Although even within Markelov himself there is a struggle inside between his own unconscious levels of the psyche and the level of consciousness. In particular, the opera begins with a poem by Nikolai Rubtsov, which essentially reflects the same struggle between biblical culture and the Russian Spirit:

Russia, Rus' - wherever I look...
For all your suffering and battles -
I love your old Russia,
Your lights, graveyards and prayers,
I love your huts and flowers,
And the skies burning with heat,
And the whisper of willows by the muddy waters,
I love you forever, until eternal peace...
Russia, Rus! Protect yourself, protect yourself!
Look again into your forests and valleys
They came from all sides,
Tatars and Mongols of other times.
They carry a black cross on their flags,
They crossed the sky with crosses,
And it’s not the forests that I see around,
And the forest of crosses
in the surrounding area
Russia...
Crosses, crosses...
I can't do it anymore!
I will abruptly take my palms away from my eyes
And suddenly I see: at attention in the meadow
Hobbled horses chew the grass.
They will neigh - and somewhere near the aspens
The slow neighing will pick up the echo,
And above me -
immortal stars of Rus',
Tranquil twinkling of the high stars...

Opera is a special form of art, thanks to the music that leads the stage action. The combination of music, text, images (scenery, costumes) and action provides the highest protection of worldview information from distortion and misinterpretation.

Of all the epic operas of Russian music, “The Tale of the Invisible City of Kitezh and the Maiden Fevronia” has the highest ideological level. This is the highest achievement of Russian music within a culture enslaved by the Bible. You can rise higher, but only by throwing away the Bible. As a result of this circumstance, in the musical culture of Russia, everything that composers wrote later than “The Legend” represents either a slide along the path of degradation in meaningless formalism, or more or less conscious attempts by them to break out of the captivity of a culture enslaved by the Bible.

It is for this reason that the opera “The Tale of the Invisible City of Kitezh and the Maiden Fevronia” is least known to our contemporaries as an epic opera: censorship of the local biblical periphery does not sleep... Therefore, opera art in the USSR-Russia was placed on the reservation of the Bolshoi and other theaters, and national epic operas ousted from the stages of all the already small opera houses by Western classical operas, which, in general, say nothing to either the mind or the heart of the peoples of Russian civilization.

It is this opera that gives us the opportunity to touch the people’s worldview, understand it, in order to build the future of our planet more responsibly and managerially competently.