Tag Archives: opera

Distinctions of Desire

The opera of Boris Godunov by Modest Mussorgsky presents several different depictions of the morality of desire.

Early in the opera, just before Tsar Boris exits the stage after his first entrance, two children crawl up to him and touch his extravagant garments. They hold their hands out for help, yet Tsar Boris not only denies them, but also seems deeply disturbed. Is it their neediness and desire that causes this reaction, or their mere disrespect? To what extent are these all the same things?

In the depiction of Grigory and the older monk Pimen, Pimen aims to educate Grigory on how to be a moral individual. Grigory has selfish temptation for glory; he wishes not to be a monk for life and perhaps to have fought for Russia and the Tsar as Pimen did). Pimen at once chastises Grigory for this desire and still himself glorifies past leaders. He speaks of Ivan’s repentance in the same monastery, and of Feodor converting the Tsar’s rooms into a monks cell. While Pimen holds royalty in high esteem, he finds love to be a more problematic aspiration and talks of the “treachery of woman’s love.”

Later, Grigory assumes the position of the fake Tsarevich Dmitry and courts a Polish noblewoman named Marina. Here, he makes an entirely different distinction about desire than Pimen did. He claims that he wants Marina to love him and regards her love of his political aspirations as somewhat distasteful initially. Even as Marina saves the argument, she says she says to Grigory that she feels “love and desire for your glory.” But does that mean she has a desire for his glory, or that she desires him to be glorious? How might these different interpretations be regarded in Grigory’s  or Pimen’s mind, and how might they have been regarded in the time when Boris Godunov was written?

Boris Godunov through Domostroi

In the first scene, the commoners beg Boris Godunov to assume the role of Tsar. They say to him, “Why are you abandoning us? We are your helpless orphans”. Their rhetoric positions the Godunov as a father, and themselves as his children. This initial familial imagery reminded me of the Domostroi’s rules for familial behavior, and I referenced the Domostroi to see is this family lived by its regulations. I examined the costumes through this lens, and noticed their coloring first. The wealthy wore bright reds and oranges and were lavishly decorated, while the poor wore beige, ragged, dirty clothing. According to the Domostroi, “golden velvet” is a mark of celebration and wealth, as it should be a part of wedding rituals. These costumes correspond to the codes of the Domostroi. The evil wore dark, ominous looking clothing for a theatrical effect. The police were dressed in awfully festive, elf-like costumes that aren’t explained in the Domostroi. As per the instructions of the Domostroi, the peasant women covered their hair, while wealthy Marina, a romantic object, wore her hair exposed, intensifying her sexualisation. Feodor’s son wore white, as a mark of purity and innocence. I also saw a similarity between the religious rhetoric in the Domostroi and the opera. Feodor’s last words of wisdom to his son included, “honor god’s saints” and the “heavenly powers, guardians of the eternal throne” in addition to advice about the political side of being a Tsar. The role of a the tsar is defined by the nature of a divine right political position. As the Domostroi expressed it, “If you serve the earthly kind righteously and fear him, you will learn to fear the Heavenly Kind also”. This tenet permeates the opera; the commoners treat the Tsar as a religious deity and the Tsar sees his own political rule as one that is deeply intertwined with religiosity. Both the religious guidelines and the regulations on dress in the Domostroi play active roles in this opera.

The tsar, exalted above all by God…

One of the most striking aspects of the opera (other than the music itself, which was astonishingly beautiful and moving) was the way Christianity seemed to pervade every aspect of life.

The way the peasants treat Boris in the first scene is very similar to their relationship with God, saying that they are all his children, that they will be orphans without him. It reminded me of the combination of fear and reverence people felt for Ivan the Terrible (or awesome). In the final scene, when they turn on him, it’s through the lens of religion again, saying that he has brought hell and torture on the Christian people of Russia. This was another possible parallel with Ivan the Terrible. It reminded me specifically of Kurbsky’s epistle, where the violence and torture committed by the tsar were even more sinful and terrible because he was supposed to be beloved and representative of God.

Along these same lines, Grigory the monk abandoned his pious, monastic life to impersonate Dmitri and try to claim the throne. He too is praised and almost worshipped by the people, but is actually guilty of terrible “sin”. This too adds to the foreshadowing of dark, tumultuous times ahead for Russia. The final tableau, too, is reminiscent of the crucifixion.

Here is your Tsar, forgive…

As I watched the opera excerpts, I was immediately struck by a number of things: first, the costumes. The aesthetic feels truly Russian and the splendor of the Tsar and his men surrounding him, backed by a massive church bell, is a striking image. Delving deeper, I was fascinated by the begging of the commoners, urged on by the always conniving boyars, pleading with Boris Godunov to rule over them. The way Boris looks down at the peasants reaching after him is a bit terrifying, paired with the divine worship the Tsar receives “throughout Russia”.

Once again, as many of our texts and films have shown, religion permeates every aspect of life — blessing the new Tsar as a sort of deity himself, the monks discussing internal strife and the benefits of leaving the “world of sin”… There is an immense amount of respect held for monastic life. Moving on, can we talk about the monk’s discussion of Ivan’s son’s death?! It was like another perspective on that famous portrait; I loved it.

Lastly, I was very interested by the dying words of the Tsar to his son, as he ushered him into an era to come that would not be easy to reign over. The pose of the Tsar dying in his son’s arms was a strangely pleasing parallel to the earlier discussion of Ivan IV (and of course how his relationship with his firstborn played out). It was a truly painful scene (“o cruel death, you torment me!”) complete with an absolutely dramatic death that seems to be key.

Apologies if this is not my best or most succinct writing, but this opera made for a good sick-in-bed watch!