By Olga Fyodorova
…People coming to the Conservatory Big Hall in Moscow during the Seventies
and Eighties could often see a handsome white-haired patriarch sitting
regally in a box right next to the stage visibly enjoying the sound of
violins, piano and orchestra. “Who’s this man?” wondered the younger listeners
nodding in the direction of the old man whose aristocratic looks attracted
everyone’s attention.
“Ivan Kozlovsky, who else!” answered the more seasoned concertgoers, their
respectful whisper reflecting their admiration for the living legend of
Russian opera.
Like Italians, Ukrainians are singers all, especially those living in Maryanovka
village whose church choir was famous far and wide. It was there that Ivan
Kozlovsky honed his singing skills when he was a young man. His formal
training took a mere two years, though, cut short by the outbreak of the
Civil War and the young peasant boy was recruited to the Red Army. His
voice stood him in very good stead when he joined the army engineers, first
as a lead singer in a military band and later as a frontman with an amateur
opera company.
At 24, Kozlovsky debuted on the professional stage with a rousing performance
of the vocally challenging part of Faust. Two years later, already boasting
a very impressive operatic repertoire, he showed up at the Bolshoi Theater
literally blowing away the audition panel easily sailing through the highest
notes of the register…
Always aware that he was king of the highs, Kozlovsky would take the highest
note possible and hang on to it as he wished driving the listeners mad
with his skill…
In 1926 Kozlovsky joined the Bolshoi company which was then ruled supreme
by Leonid Sobinov. The young singer was mesmerized by the great tenor’s
voice, mastery and artistic presentation emulating, at times purposefully,
at times intuitively, his intonations and movement making them part
of his own style…
Sobinov kept a close eye on the budding young singer advising and helping
him in every way. Once, during a benefit performance, Sobinov took Kozlovsky
out on stage as if handing his legacy over to the young singer. Before
long, Kozlovsky started winning kudos appearing in such trademark Sobinov
parts as Romeo, Lensky and Lohengrin… In all, Kozlovsky sang in more than
50 operas during his 30 years with the Bolshoi...
He became the darling of Moscow’s concert-going public before he even knew
it… People were now flocking to his performances from all across the land.
His followers were so numerous that they even set up a national fan club,
the so-called “Kozlinists”. They knew absolutely everything about their
idol and attended his every single performance.
After the second act of the Yevgeny Onegin opera, where Lensky dies in
a duel, only a handful of people remained in the hall with the rest rushing
towards the “personnel only” entrance to rain flowers on the man who played
the part of that unfortunate romantic…
Basking in the giddying atmosphere of public adoration, Kozlovsky was often
seen openly fishing for applause. After a well-done phrase he would start
bowing prompting tumultuous applause from his followers. The opera then
ground to a halt and would only pick up pace again when Kozlovsky wished
it to.
Well, he was a living legend, and who we are to blame him for making an
occasional use, or even abuse, of his godly status?
He was equally inimitable in concert pepping up every little piece with
masterful attention to every tiny detail, every pause…
Some of the old Russian love songs are still best appreciated when listened
to the way he sang them. Compared to his interpretations, everything else
is simply not happening!
Being famous is not always good for the human character and Kozlovsky was
no exception to this sad rule allowing himself to show up late for rehearsals
and sometimes flunk them altogether. He brought his seasonal appearances
down to just five or seven – a monthly rate for all the other lead singers.
Worse, he was getting increasingly envious of his colleagues’ success and
was much aided here by the Kozlinists who were now waging an all-out war
against the followers of another famous Bolshoi tenor, Sergei Lemeshev…
Kozlovsky’s big-star arrogance was driving conductors and directors mad
but if he really liked the material offered him he worked miracles making
people immediately appreciate his larger-than-life caliber…
That was exactly the case with the part of the God’s Fool in Modest Mussorgsky’s
opera Boris Godunov. Initially unwilling to take up what he saw as
something absolutely short on singing, he eventually worked it into one
of the opera’s high points where the poor cripple spoke the mind of the
Russian people…
Well, who else could dare to openly call Czar Boris a murderer and say
he would never pray for a killer because Virgin Mary wouldn’t like that…
Bolshoi’s old-timers still remember the threadbare rust-colored briefcase
Kozlovsky always carried around as a talisman.
He loved donning an embroidered skull-cap like the ones they wear in Central
Asia. Asked why, he put on a disarming smile and said he just believed
it suited him well…
Kozlovsky was a very generous man and lent a helping hand to many of his
money-strapped colleagues…
Quitting after 30 years on stage of the country’s foremost music theater,
Kozlovsky still kept making occasional appearances there also giving one-man
shows, singing in concerts, directing and advising young singers even though
he never taught regularly.
In a sense, he was a slave to his voice. He never sang early in the morning
saying the voice was still asleep. He never ventured on stage when
he felt even a little bit unwell. He never drank anything that was too
cold or too hot, avoided spicy food and never talked out in the cold.
That’s probably why he managed to preserve almost intact his wonderful
voice, which he showcased so potently singing during his 90th birthday
celebration.
They say that Ivan Kozlovsky considered his voice as his one and only possession
and prayed every morning thanking the Lord for the priceless gift He gave
him…
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