Montserrat Caballe sang with her “vocal son”

pop concert

Nikolai Baskov and Montserrat Caballe gave a concert in the Svetlanov Hall of the House of Music. The performance of the stars was accompanied by the Bolshoi Theater Choir and the New Russia Orchestra with guest conductor Alexander Sladkovsky at the helm. SERGEY KHODNEV was amazed at what he heard.

It was not only the music that had to be marveled at, however, although the overture to “Nabucco”, played in a loose manner as a prologue to the concert, already promised a lot of interesting things in this regard. After it, Svyatoslav Belza took the stage to open, in his words, “this truly extraordinary concert” (the audience shuddered slightly from the unexpected association with the classics of the puppet genre) and deliver the due eulogy to the heroes of the evening.

From the first words, his speech soared into the sky like a rocket. “Delightfully young” Nikolai Baskov, “like a lawless comet, burst into the circle of calculated luminaries of our stage.” Montserrat Caballe "is today the epitome of opera itself." The tenor celebrating his 30th birthday and the honored Spanish soprano were persistently called each other’s “vocal son” and “vocal mother,” respectively, although the situation later became more complicated. We remembered that before Moscow, the couple of vocal relatives gave concerts in a number of regions, including Siberia. “I would compare her (Montserrat Caballe - Kommersant ) with the Decembrists,” suggested Mr. Belza and painted a touching picture in a few phrases: the singer follows her student to Siberia, awarded with “special Yesenin’s Russian beauty.”

This lyrical note, as it turned out, marked the transition to the main event of the concert that had not yet begun. Nikolai Baskov with Montserrat Caballe, leaning on his arm, had already entered the stage. Mrs. Caballe, as everyone already knew, was to be awarded the rather mysterious “international public order” “Golden Falcon”.

Sergei Stepashin came out to present the “Falcon” with an inimitable mixture of directness and shyness. “Now I am not the chairman of the Accounts Chamber,” he began with modest challenge. Then he pointed out to the singer the honor that she had received: the order was awarded to Vladimir Putin, Jacques Chirac, Gerhard Schröder, as well as Vladimir Spivakov (the maestro, who was sitting in the box, stood up and exchanged enthusiastic gestures with the singer) and Mstislav Rostropovich (Montserrat Caballe looked for him in the audience too - did not find).

It was somehow awkward not to praise Nikolai Baskov. The Chairman of the Accounts Chamber found, admittedly, a non-trivial form of praise, solemnly calling the singer “the golden soprano of Russia.” “I will improve,” answered the “golden soprano,” who still sings as a tenor, without being confused. Confused by contrast, Sergei Stepashin tried to leave the stage, but was stopped by the melodic call of the prima donna: “Hey, caballero, don’t leave!” After the caballero (and with him the entire audience) had listened to the brief response from the new lady of the “international public order”, the concert could finally begin.

It began with the duet “Ave Maria” to the music of the intermezzo from Mascagni’s “Honour Countryside” (the overplayed orchestral hit ended up being played twice, because a few numbers later it was also played, so to speak, au naturel). This was a warm-up, which made it possible to evaluate only the work of the substitution - the uncertainty of Nikolai Baskov’s intonation and, alas, the forced delicacy of Montserrat Caballe, the speakers were broadcast in close-up. After the slave chorus from Nabucco (with out-of-tune brass in the orchestra), the main operatic numbers of the concert followed. Mr. Basque sang “Where, where have you gone?” Madame Caballe - "Habanera", risking the mezzo-soprano tessitura, which only the strongest and most desperate sopranos can handle.

Here the despair could be mainly among the listeners. The once amazing voice of the prima donna was almost impossible to recognize due to the cracked timbre of age, painful and swaying highs, dull lows, difficult breathing and unruly ligaments. "A real Spanish Carmen! Such a temperament!" — the entertainer was insincerely delighted, while the natural reaction to the “temperament” was perhaps boundless pity.

As for the “vocal son,” Lensky’s aria at first allowed us to hope for the best: the singer’s timbre was smooth, without an unpleasant nasal sound in the lower part of the range. All that remained was ungodly forcing and a radical lack of taste. Not a trifle, of course, however, if everything was limited to this aria, one could remain calm at least about the preservation of the academic format of the event. But numbers from verist operas followed - Federico’s lament from Cilea’s “La Arlesienne” and a duet from his own “Adrienne Lecouvreur”. Despite all the assurances that the tenor is mastering this repertoire under the direct guidance of Montserrat Caballe, it was difficult not to doubt it when hearing the results presented: insecure (in places almost like a mentor), ugly sound, poor articulation, a complete lack of sense of style could suggest the seditious idea that the “golden voice of Russia” listened to the lessons at least without diligence.

However, there was soon no room left for any thoughts about the art of opera. The second part of a truly extraordinary concert put everything in its place. Nikolai Baskov sang five folk songs in a row (“I’ll harness the troika”, “The ringing of bells is heard”, “Along the street”, “The long road”, “Peddlers”) in a wild arrangement for orchestra; The Bolshoi Theater chorus famously picked up all sorts of “Wait, wait, my beauty”, the audience, as if in the Rossiya State Central Concert Hall, joyfully clapped to the rhythm and tried to sing along. Montserrat Caballe responded with a couple of numbers from zarzuelas, carefully portraying liveliness and spontaneity as her voice disappeared. There are more and more hugs to the roar of satisfied applause, and now, before singing (well, finally) “In Memory of Caruso,” the tenor dedicates a pop number to “vocal mother,” who, he says, “changed my worldview about music, about opera ". And she stupidly responds, just in case, without understanding a word, with the exclamation: “Te quero!”

But there is no limit to perfection, and at parting, the overstuffed audience listened to “Kalinka-Malinka” and “Dark Eyes”, both of which were performed in such a way that the song “The Long Road” in comparison with them looked like an aria from a Bach cantata.

Evening of miracles in the Basque country