For me, the most prominent themes within the opera were the representations of innocence and deception. In light of the chaos of wartime, the opera represents the tragedy of– and existence of– innocence and deception by focusing on the portrayal of desire. In addition, the opera also represents the unconventional relationship that unfolds between Liubasha, Grigory, and Martha.

In light of Martha’s beauty and innocence, she attracts the attention of Grigory Gryaznoi, who finds himself hyperaware of her unmarried status and becomes increasingly fond of her. In his attempts to win her affection, he calls upon witchcraft. Specifically, he is told to sprinkle powder in a drink and give it to her so she will submit to his advances and ultimately fall in love with him. Simultaneously, his mistress, Liubasha, becomes extremely jealous of Martha and plans ways to corrupt Grigory’s interest. Liubasha visits the same person that gave Grigory his powder and is given another powder that inflicts insanity and death to its subject.  Liubasha’s character serves to emphasize the opera’s themes of deception and jealousy by emphasizing her suspicions of Grigory’s unfaithfulness and her intent of harming Martha with the powder. Additionally, Liubasha cleverly finds ways to taint Grigory’s love for Martha by influencing others while remaining undetected– as is the case with the wrongful death of the German  by Grigory after being misled by Liubasha to believe the German was deceitful. Deception is significant in both Liubasha’s jealousy and Grigory’s desire for Martha, because it highlights Martha’s purity add beauty in contrast to themselves. Overall, I found the opera’s portrayal of desire and deception to be interesting. I think the ways in which the characters dealt with the events was also significant in highlighting the themes of desire and deception.

The Tsar’s Bride depicts men fighting for the love of the beautiful Marfa. In the story, Gryaznoi, Ivan, and Ivan all try to possess Marfa either through love powders, forced marriage, or voluntary union. The fight of Marfa leads to her poisoning and the death of most of the people involved in the plot. Historically Marfa was also chosen by Ivan, and succumbed to a mysterious ailment, but is suspected of having poisoned by her mother accidentally. The choice to have two men and one of their wives fight over Marfa is a stylistic choice, which I believe was made to illustrate the corrupt nature of the boyars and to depict the gender inequalities between men and women before the soviet era. The film was created in 1966 during the USSR, and hence the consolidation of powers by Ivan was a theme prized by Stalin. Gender inequality is contrasted by the total equality established under communism. The differences between the historic and opera version are meant to determine the vast differences between these two time periods. Also, since the opera version ends in such a tragic manner, I believe this ending was supposed to illustrate the flaws of the boyar and sexist culture of old Russia.

Throughout The Tsar’s Bride, love was something seen as fluid and different to all who experienced it. For some, like Liubasha, it meant commitment above all else, but for others, like Grigory, it lead to betrayal.

Take Liubasha, for example. In the beginning of the film, she was shown to love Grigory with all her heart, and couldn’t bear to see him unhappy with her. After the dinner scene, she interrogated him to understand why he didn’t show her the love he once did. Upon finding out that he loved another woman, she lashed out at him and his lack of commitment towards their love. She cited how when he took her from her village, she was separated from her family and loved ones, but she never batted an eye because it meant that she would be with Grigory, her greatest love. Her commitment towards Grigory made her all the more frustrated when he wouldn’t love her in the same way.

Like Liubasha, Martha was committed to her love Ivan Lykov, since they knew each other from childhood. She even expressed that love to her friend, saying that she wanted him as a husband above all else, and was upset when the Tsar chose her as a wife.

To some characters, however, love is not that same binding force others feel it is. The main culprit in this regard is Grigory, who was in love with Liubasha, until another woman caught his eye. Instead of remaining committed to Liubasha, who, may I remind you he abducted, he asks a man to create a potion that would have Martha fall in love with him. In doing so, he abandons his relationship that started through conquest.

These differences in treatments towards loved ones are illustrative of how women were viewed at the time; not as people but as trophies to be pursued and won, while women were expected to fully throw themselves into their relationships. This is evident in the Tsar’s choosing of Martha as a bride. He simply had his men scout young women, lined them all up, and chose the one he wanted. He gave no thought of what she wanted; only what he could get from a woman. Likewise, Grigory clearly put little stock into commitment in a relationship, as he was on the lookout for a younger woman to chase after despite having abducted a woman previously.

Russian gender roles, as observed through the texts for today, share many features with adjacent Western societies. “A Husband Must Teach His Wife How to Please God and Her Husband, Arrange Her Home Well, and Know All That Is Necessary for Domestic Order and Every Kind of Handicraft, So She May Teach and Supervise Servants,” the 29th entry in the Domostroi, emphasizes the parallel between the cult of domesticity in Ivan the Terrible’s Russia and that transmitted from Ancient Greece and Rome. Examining the Russian folk costumes, we can also see how Russian women were expected to dress increasingly modestly throughout their lives and conceal their hair except in the presence of their husbands and blood relatives, an Ancient Greek parallel. By contrast, the men’s attire has clear parallels to that of other steppe cultures, being suitable for manual labor yet vibrant enough for special occasions. It is not too hard to find other patriarchal trends in other Russian cultural outlets.

None of this is to dismiss the unique aspects of Russian patriarchy. What stood out to me with The Tsar’s Bride was how it acknowledged the hardships traceable to the above system. Granted, it is a difficult work to periodize: a 1960’s adaptation of a late 19th-century opera set in the 16th century. Still, I am not convinced that the subtext is exclusive to any one era. The men of the film leverage their authority to neglect any duty to the women and institutions around them. Both Grigori and Ivan the Terrible lust for Martha, sabotaging her impending marriage and ultimately unraveling her sanity. In the process, Grigori abandons Liubasha, giving her agony. When Liubasha sets out to thwart Grigori’s scheme to drug Martha and end his infatuation, she is assaulted by Bomeliy and coerced to love him. Her objections clearly surface. Her experience is not denied.

The Tsar’s Bride is not a feminist film — its characterization Martha and Liubasha is too rooted to the men and its attitude toward the brutality they face is too passive. If anything, I am most reminded of Princess Anna’s forced marriage to Vladimir in The Tales of Bygone Years: she voices her objections, yet the men around her overrule her liberty. I wonder if this acknowledgement of but ambivalence toward the hardships of Russian women will come up in other texts.

Beautifully crafted arias and duets weave The Tsar’s Bride, a thrilling drama filled with love, revenge, mysterious foreigners, poison, and murder. On the surface, it may seem to be no different from any famous Italian opera, but this epic also displays key elements of Russian history and culture, specifically the rule of its first tsar, Ivan the Terrible, and Russia’s Christian heritage. When Martha is first depicted with her friend, two ominous men adorned in all black appear and watch Martha with intent. At this time, Martha is one of the finalists in the tsar’s bride search, and I assume that the men are associated with him. The two men represent the pervasive and oppressive nature of Ivan’s rule. Even at moments that seem peaceful, there is an underlying element of fear due to the tsar’s erratic and violent actions towards his people. Additionally, when the tsar’s messenger declares that Martha has been chosen as his bride, his voice seems to echo throughout the room. This echo illustrates the threatening effect that Ivan had on his people. Though the words are not spoken by the tsar himself the echo effect reveals that they hold the same power and still instill fear into the hearts of the boyars. The last image of the film is an iconostasis, a strong Orthodox Christian symbol. This scene identifies religion as a key contributor to early Rus culture. It also serves as a reminder that God was present as the characters sinned throughout the play.  While Ivan was terrorizing his ‘enemies’ in the present, in the end, it is God’s judgement that the characters must face. 

Even though I was amazed by the film’s ability to portray Russian culture, I still enjoyed the more Shakespearean lines. My heart ached when Grigory stabs Liubasha, and she poetically utters, “You got me in the heart.” 

The Tsar’s Bride is, on its surface, abuddently beautiful.  The scenery, the actors, and, above all, the music result in an opera that exposes the audience to the beauty of Russian culture.  In addition, the recurring theme of love is dominant throughout the opera and is amplified by the romantic nature of the music.

However, once breaking through the facade of beauty, a darker reality reveals itself.  The opera takes place during the reign of Ivan the Terrible, a figure known for his oppression as well as manic tendencies.  Despite the aura of love present, a deeper examination reveals an overpowering sense of rage and jealousy that consumes the main characters and ultimately destroyesthem.  Additionally, Ivan, despite his historical significance, is hardly present in the opera. Rather, it is up to the audience to be aware of the reality of his rule.  A further discussion about the significance (or lack thereof) of Ivan in the opera could be interesting. 

As seen in the film we watched last class, Ivan the Terrible, Soviet-era films made about this time period tend to hide the reality of Ivan’s legacy.  They are used as an opportunity to showcase a unified Russia and its culture.  Additionally, in both films, there is an absence of religion, despite the fact that we are aware Russia was very much Christian at this point in time. Although I’m sure we will discuss this more in length later in the semester, I am fascinated in how the Soviet government impacted films such as these as well as Russian culture generally.   What was life actually like in this time period? Are these films valid glimpses into this time period? Is it full on propaganda, or somewhere in between?

One of the most striking things I noted about The Tsar’s Bride was the treatment of the two women Liubasha and Martha, specifically the control men in power exert over them.  We learn in the beginning of the film that Liubasha, the boyar Grigory’s mistress, was kidnapped from her family.  One of the other boyars brags that Liubasha addresses him as “Godfather” when he personally beat members of her family.  Striking, too, about this scenario is the fact that Liubasha appears to genuinely love Grigory despite her treatment at his hand.  The one instance that she has agency in the film is when she exchanges Grigory’s love potion meant for Martha with a death potion instead.  However, as soon as this fact is discovered, Grigory instantly kills Liubasha, exerting the final act of control over her body.  The fact that her one independent act is evil and is immediately punished seems to indicate that women cannot be trusted to make decisions for themselves; in contrast to the evil actions of many of them men in the film, her act is not that extreme, yet is treated as such.  Like Liubasha, Martha also has her own decisions superseded by those of men in power.  In her first substantive scene, she expresses her genuine love for the boyar Ivan whom she knew as a child.  However, the Tsar spots Martha from afar; soon thereafter, his oprichniki, identifiable by their “black clothes and hats” and “brushes or brooms tied on the end of sticks,” arrive to take her away to him (A Foreigner Describes the Oprichnina of Tsar Ivan the Terrible, 151-152).  Martha’s agency is taken away a second time when Grigory puts his potion into her wine.  It does not make a difference that she does not consume the potion that he initially intended; either one would have resulted in a change of her mental state without her consent.  Unlike Liubasha, Martha never is able to assert herself against these men.  In her final decaying mental state, Martha is praised by Grigory as a “martyr”.  This expression emphasizes the film’s message that female passivity is morally superior to female independence.  The final shots of the movie pan from the bodies of the two women on the floor to the icons that look down on them from the ceiling.  Perhaps this image is meant to convey what God’s punishments are for sin.

A recurring theme throughout many Ancient Rus texts after the baptism of Vladimir has been the inevitable Judgement Day promised by monks and other authors of these texts. The purpose of this may be multifactorial: to instill reverence of the clergy among the common people, to create stability amongst the ruling class or to foster a culture with common values of decency and respect. However, The Domostroi pushes the narrative of a doomsday and a fear of God, the Boyars, and Tsar Ivan the Terrible as a means to suppress women, and indeed, bolster patriarchal rule.

The text argues, good wives, “should not eat or drink without her husband’s knowledge, nor conceal food or drink from him. Nor should she have secrets from her husband.” (pp, 138). Societal rules under Tsar Ivan the Terrible gave women no autonomy, authority or even a way to sustain life unless their husbands agreed. Women were not allowed to drink alcohol in public or in the privacy of their homes. Instead, they were relegated to drinking kvass and other weakly-alcoholic beverages.

Legislation is nothing, however, without an executive that enforces it. Recognizing this, The Domostroi begins by exclaiming you should speak to the Tsar, “as if you spoke to God himself,” and, “if you serve the earthly king righteously and fear him, you will learn to fear the Heavenly King also.” (pp. 71). This fear-eliciting rhetoric continues when the text outlines how women specifically should act. On the topic of whom to let into the house, women are given strict guidelines to obey. Otherwise, their “practices [may] spawn many evils.” (pp. 132).

All of this fearmongering plays to the commoner’s anxiety of a judgement day or being suaded by evils. The text states that only obedient followers will receive, “answers on Judgement Day.” (pp. 92). Thus, through the creation of a potential doomsday event and outlining a means to avoid it, The Domostroi suppresses women and solidifies the claim to the throne of the patriarch Tsar Ivan.