Vivid staging and superb singing in the Dallas Opera’s fairy-tale comedy, ‘The Golden Cockerel’

If you think opera is boring, you haven’t seen The Golden Cockerel — at least not the Dallas Opera’s wittily staged and splendidly sung version. Consider this a strong “buy” recommendation.

Actually, few Americans have seen Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov’s fairy-tale opera about a doofus king, his clueless sons, assorted hangers-on, an astrologer with a prophetic rooster and an exotic seductress. Russian operas in general, apart from a handful, have been relatively rare on these shores.

Projected supertitles now translate the words for audiences, and the growing availability of excellent Russian singers and American singers competent in the language have opened up new possibilities.

The Dallas Golden Cockerel is a co-production with Santa Fe Opera, which introduced it to great acclaim two years ago. (The Dallas Opera did a different production back in 1973.) It’s a delight to both eye and ear, with spectacular costumes evocative of Imperial Russia, and with fabulous singing. With appropriately mischievous staging and choreography by Paul Curran, there was plenty of laughter from the Sunday afternoon audience at the Winspear Opera House.

Designer Gary McCann is responsible for those brilliantly patterned and colored costumes. For a set, though, he goes for abstraction rather than realism — great swoops and circles of metal grille work. But these supply surprisingly effective screens for Driscoll Otto’s wonderfully varied projections, including animations of the eponymous rooster. Deft lighting is by Paul Hackenmueller.

Based on a Pushkin tale and composed in 1906-7, The Golden Cockerel was the last of Rimsky’s 15 (or so, depending of what you count) operas. He writes imaginatively and well for voices, and, of course, he was a great master of the orchestra. Mingling folk influences, modal “exoticisms” and subtle instrumentation, The Golden Cockerel certainly suggests the Stravinsky Firebird and Petrushka to come.

King Dodon rises on an oversize throne, where he sprawls much of the time in red thermal underwear hardly concealed by a kingly robe. Later appearing for war in grand armored attire, Nikolay Didenko gives the king a petulant persona and an aptly granular bass. Kevin Burdette’s narrower-bore bass suits the annoying Gen. Polkan. Tenor Viktor Antipenko and baritone Corey Crider sing strongly as the sons, Prince Guidon and Prince Afron, who are so dumb they get killed by their uncoordinated armies.

Barry Banks performs as the Astrologer during the Dallas Opera dress rehearsal of 'The... — Barry Banks performs as the Astrologer during the Dallas Opera dress rehearsal of 'The Golden Cockerel,' on Oct. 22, 2019, at the Winspear Opera House.(Nitashia Johnson / Special Contributor)

The role of the Astrologer calls for a tenor who can dispatch stratospheric lines, and Barry Banks does so with heroic power and assurance. He’s done up like like Andy Warhol in sunglasses and a black robe.

The other role calling for formidable vocalism is the Queen of Shemakha, a seductress who’s sort of a cross between Mozart’s Queen of the Night and Strauss’ Salome. Venera Gimadieva, who sang the role in Santa Fe and was to do so here, had to withdraw only 10 days before rehearsals were to begin. Miraculously, Olga Pudova, who had been booked as Queen of the Night in The Magic Flute that opened a week earlier, knew the Rimsky role and took over on late notice. (This called for cast shuffles in the Dallas Flute.)

Olga Pudova performs as the Queen of Shemakha during dress rehearsal of the Dallas Opera... — Olga Pudova performs as the Queen of Shemakha during dress rehearsal of the Dallas Opera production of 'The Golden Cockerel,' on Oct. 22, 2019, at the Winspear Opera House.(Nitashia Johnson / Special Contributor)

Pudova seemed a bit cautious vocally at the beginning, although that may have been more a matter of being blocked well upstage. But thereafter she dispensed a soprano that could blaze imposingly or ooze seduction, in words rife with double entendre; top notes held no terrors. She also looked wholly comfortable with the bit of strip tease.

Lindsay Ammann sang sonorously as the housekeeper Amelfa, and Jeni Houser piped brightly as the offstage voice of the Cockerel.

Music director Emmanuel Villaume, who conducted the Santa Fe Cockerel two years ago, helmed it here, too. He occasionally lagged behind Didenko’s Dodon, and the orchestra’s violins weren’t always CD-ready, but in general coordination and finesse were well managed. If the chorus, prepared by Alexander Rom, was a little rough-hewn on occasion, that suited the characters portrayed.