The engaging part of The Nose (Shostakovich) is reading the backstory on Wikipedia – it tells you that this “opera” centers on a short story from the 1800’s, when Russian culture placed way too much emphasis on social status and appearances.   

“The Shoz” himself (with three librettists) built it up so now it’s a cunning take-down of society in St Petersburg, under Russia’s Alexander the first.

That is pretty interesting history, but it’s worth thinking about whether or not things have changed since then and there.

I was hoping that the reference to the nose meant it would be an opera buffa about wine assessments, or a romp about the science of smell, or maybe a foreign word for “intriguing small-town axe murder mystery”.  But it isn’t.

Unfortunately, it is just an unbelievable tale of a guy who loses his actual nose, searches for it while the nose becomes person-sized and active in politics, and then the guy finds and re-installs it.

The music is like when a grade-school band warms up before the concert starts, with everyone showing off how loudly and weirdly they can toot their horn.

The stage action looks like some self-important teenagers trying to present something “meaningful” to surprise their parents, and to see themselves as intrepid radicals.  You’ve got your shouting and over-acting, your non-sequiturs, your odd dresses and hats, your guy on a too-small bicycle, your servant who enters through a cupboard, your house-call doctor who jumps on the bed.  Fill in the gaps from your own experiments with mail-order pharmaceuticals from northern Mexico.

Plus, this production has a lot of mishmash presented by projector onto the upstage wall.  A little too much like that damned German production of Magic Flute from 2021.

Reminds me of another analyst, a research chemist by trade, who noted that times change and “classics” are not all truly timeless.  “What’s with The Scarlet Letter and Captains Courageous, Dad?” I once asked him.  He pointed out that not everything that was meaningful 200 years ago is still comprehensible, or even important, today.

So we can be forgiven for missing all the references in The Nose, as we sit here in 2023 scratching our heads and drinking a weak Rob Roy.

Some themes are universal.  Surely we can all identify with the familiar conflicts generated by both loving our spouse and wishing our in-laws would catch active acute rabies; the well-known ambiguity arising when we strive to maintain control over our lives, but still own a dog; the give-and-take necessary when we generally value humanity yet thrill to the task of causing upset and embarrassment in a crowded elevator at work.  Who among us does not feel the stresses of these common issues, as we are but normal humans?

But sadly, these enduring paradigms are not what Gogol and the Shosta-guy were building on.  It’s a bunch of hooey that I guess you would like if you were 250 years old, and had been deeply engaged in holding your own against Metternich.

Classic and cultured entertainment for sure.  If you see it, bring a suitcase full of popcorn, and a little portable TV so you can watch basketball.