Evgeny Nikitin
Wagner Opera arias

The overture of the Flying Dutchman opens alone this small yet interesting collection-work on the activities of the famous and infamous Russian baritone Evgeny Nikitin. Wagner bursts forth in all his mastery and seems to solemnly introduce the turbulent career of this young talent.

Born in 1973 in Murmansk, a city within the Arctic Circle in northern European Russia, he graduated from the St. Petersburg Conservatory and debuted at a young age at the Mariinsky Theatre. Since then, he has graced many prestigious stages around the world, including New York's Metropolitan, the Theatre du Châtelet, and the Opera in Paris, and the Bayerische Staatsoper in Munich. Nikitin "specializes" nevertheless in interpreting Wagnerian operas and indeed in Munich in 2016, he gave a remarkable performance in the Flying Dutchman, an opera of absolute importance chosen to open this album dedicated to the quintessential "bad boy" of contemporary opera. Why did he earn this nickname? Simple, because I haven't forgotten to mention the world's most prestigious stage concerning Wagner and Wagnerians from all over the planet, that is, the undisputed and celebrated Festspielhaus in Bayreuth, a city dedicated to the cult of the great German musician and the land he himself chose as his final home, the legendary Wahnfried, where he is buried with his wife Cosima and his faithful dog Russ (the only one of the three with the name carved on the tomb). Well, in 2012, Nikitin was called by the Festival management but, after an enormous uproar due to the shadows of his past (and why not, also due to the venomous ambitions of the many contenders vying for the Festival), he was expelled amidst hundreds of articles that circled the globe in hours. Here is the story: As a teenager, Nikitin was a drummer in a Black Metal band from his country, more NS Black Metal than Black Metal (where 'NS' stands for National Socialist) and at the time he adorned himself with tattoos that alluded, not even too subtly, to Germanic paganism and certain runic symbology linked to the European radical right circles, all sealed by a large swastika on his chest, now semi-covered by another tattoo that conceals it all. Photos of him, shirtless and playing, ended up (what a coincidence!) in the hands of the German press, causing general outrage and the immediate expulsion of the baritone from the Festival. His embarrassing reparative statements: "I had no idea of the discomfort and offense these symbols might cause, especially in Bayreuth, within the context of the Festival. I got them tattooed when I was young. It was a great mistake of my life, I wish I had never done it". What can one say? He had no idea that right in Germany and right at Wagner's house (who already had much more than a friendship with Adolf Hitler through his aunt Winifred, something that still weighs on the heirs) those symbols would create "discomfort and offense"? A more than naive statement, but let's move on...

Having missed a grand opportunity, nonetheless, he does not lose heart and continues his journey into Wagner's music and the Germanic spirit it embodies and represents in all its strength, its dark and majestic melancholy, and its sunny and nocturnal fervor together, arias that recall the dark and at times menacing colors of the immense central European forests but also the colors and art of our Bel Paese, which Wagner nonetheless intimately loved and where he died. So the overture of the Flying Dutchman opens the dance without voice, which will see the baritone in the second track, also taken from this opera. Indeed, the second scene of the first act showcases this artist's mastery, a profound and brilliant monologue, just as in the subsequent excerpt from Lohengrin, where mezzo-soprano Michaela Schuster also appears; the rendition is dramatic and solemn. The course over this aria's twenty minutes is up to par and, I believe, in line with the best performances of recent years. I might exaggerate and perhaps many will disagree, but I feel a unique passion in the personal interpretation of artists like Nikitin and Schuster, fused together they create an authentic explosion. The ride continues with extracts from Tannhäuser, Götterdämmerung, and Die Walküre; I find the various performances more than interesting, the only flaw being the track selection which, in my humble opinion, could have been broader. I would have included Parzifal, for example, where Nikitin more than proved his talent. Nevertheless, I think a few words about this artist are necessary in a free space like this; of course, there are excellent baritones and young promises like Benjamin Appl, for instance, or renowned performers of Wagner like the monstrous tenor Jonas Kaufmann, but this CD was needed to pay a deserved tribute to a controversial figure yet of undeniable value like Nikitin, who still has much to offer in the complex and sophisticated world of Opera. Note that the orchestra is the Philharmonic Royal de Liege and the conductor is Arming Christian, another young talent.

In conclusion, let it be clear, far be it from me to carry out a meticulous analysis of Richard Wagner's beyond music, I am not qualified for such approaches and here there will certainly be people far more accredited. I limit myself to the chronicle of the characters and, at the very least, to attempting to describe the "emotional" side of certain performances; what concerns the intimacy of listening remains confined to each of your personal spheres.