Some works seem tailor‑made to ignite a theatre’s imagination, and Rimsky‑Korsakov’s Christmas Eve is certainly one of them. The Bayerische Staatsoper presents a new production by Barrie Kosky, a director whose baroque fantasy and taste for the grotesque find here an ideal playground. From the opening moments, everything is present: the blend of laughter and mystery, folklore winking at satire, poetry slightly askew yet irresistibly charming. Kosky embraces this energy fully, crafting a visually extravagant world — never gratuitous — shaped by Klaus Grünberg’s sculpted lighting and Klaus Bruns’ mischievously anachronistic costumes. An aesthetic in constant transformation, slipping and distorting like this New Year’s tale where human passions collide with the devil’s whims.
In the pit, Vladimir Jurowski delivers an ideal interpretation of this repertoire. Known for his analytical precision and architectural clarity, he proves particularly sovereign in Rimsky‑Korsakov. The colours shimmer, textures unfold with almost chamber‑like transparency, and everything breathes with his signature narrative suppleness. He balances contrasts with rare elegance: the magical never slips into sentimentality, the satirical never turns harsh. This is Rimsky‑Korsakov at his very best — brilliant, fluid, storytelling in motion.
The cast fits this alchemy perfectly, and the undisputed star of the evening is Elena Tsallagova as Oksana. She brings a luminous, coquettish yet never superficial character to life, carried by a silvery timbre that captures the ear instantly. Tsallagova combines rare freshness with impeccable stylistic command: crisp high notes, pliant legato, expressive phrasing free of exaggeration. She charms through both voice and presence — playful, touching, impeccably shaped. Whenever she appears, she draws the eye as if the entire opera revolved around her. And, truth be told, it rather does.
Sergey Skorokhodov is a solid, generous Wakula, marked by disarming dramatic sincerity that fits this often comedic universe. His broad, honest tone brings warmth and gentle humanity to the role.
Ekaterina Semenchuk’s Solocha is irresistible — sensual, mischievous, theatrically razor‑sharp. Long known for her ability to master everything from darkest tragedy to outrageous caricature, she finds here a jubilant balance, commanding each of her scenes with a glowing, rounded timbre and luxuriant upper register.
Violeta Urmana’s Tsarina exudes natural authority tinged with irony — half serious, half parodic — ideal for this deliberately oversized role. Sergei Leiferkus, still magnetic even in a smaller part, brings noble presence to the Village Elder.
Among the lesser roles, one artist stands out with surprising clarity: Milan Siljanov as Panas. His voice has that rare quality that catches the ear immediately. He sings with supple line, clear articulation, and an instinctive dramatic truth. In a work prone to excess, he impresses by choosing simplicity and sincerity. A secondary role, yes — but Siljanov is clearly a name to watch in the coming years.
Matti Turunen (Pazjuk) and Vsevolod Grivnov (the Deacon) also distinguish themselves, carving sharp and delightful cameos. Tansel Akzeybek’s Devil brings bounding energy, agility, and irresistible theatrical appetite.
The chorus prepared by Christoph Heil is impeccable — precise, responsive, fully engaged in the scenic movement.
Ultimately, this Christmas Eve becomes total theatre: brilliant, whirling, generous, guided by Kosky’s exuberant imagination and Jurowski’s sovereign musical direction. A committed cast, a radiant Oksana, several notable revelations — and a great deal of magic, as tradition demands.

Distribution
- The Tsarina: Violeta Urmana
- Village Elder: Sergei Leiferkus
- Tschub: Dmitry Ulyanov
- Oksana: Elena Tsallagova
- Solocha: Ekaterina Semenchuk
- Wakula: Sergey Skorokhodov
- Panas: Milan Siljanov
- Deacon Ossip Nikiforovitch: Vsevolod Grivnov
- Pazjuk: Matti Turunen
- The Devil: Tansel Akzeybek
- Woman with the violet‑blue nose: Alexandra Durseneva
- Woman with the ordinary nose: Laura Aikin
- Conductor: Vladimir Jurowski
- Director: Barrie Kosky
- Chorus Master: Christoph Heil
