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I am not entirely sure what to make stage director Ted Huffman’s production of Eugene Onegin, currently at the Royal Opera House until 14th October. I did not get the programme notes, so I am relying on what I saw and heard at the second performance.
Eugene Onegin first appeared as a novel in verse by the Russian author Alexander Pushkin. Published between 1825 and 1832 in serial form, the poem was written in eight chapters, the first of which focused on Onegin. In his opera of the same title, Tchaikovsky omitted Pushkin’s first chapter but wrote his operatic libretto – and then composed his seven ‘lyrical scenes’ – on the rest of Pushkin’s novel.
Whether stage director Huffman focused on the original story or on the plot in Tchaikovsky’s libretto, there are some puzzling changes. For me the most crucial change is Olga’s seemingly unashamed seduction of Onegin just prior to Tatyana’s birthday party. The tragedy in the Pushkin/Tchaikovsky story is that, although Olga is flirtatious, her fiancé Lensky’s jealousy is exaggerated, therefore his death in the duel with Onegin is unwarranted. With Huffman’s strange change, the plot loses the innocence which is a strong motive in the story.
Another important change is Lensky’s demise. In the novel and opera Onegin kills Lensky in their duel; here Onegin puts down his pistol, but Lensky shoots himself. If one assumes that the brief Olga-Onegin love scene might have really happened, Lensky’s killing himself is no surprise. But if Lensky earlier agitated for the duel to protect the honour and innocence of Olga, it is odd that he kills himself.
Finally, Huffman changes Tatyana’s great, lonely letter scene into a visual duet: Tatyana brings in Olga to whom she dictates her passionate love letter to Onegin. The sisters seem to have a loving and caring relationship (in this production too); very strange that immediately in the next scene Olga seduces Onegin.
Huffman might be indicating that we are witnessing memories. Right at the beginning Onegin walks to the front of the stage and then watches from the back of the stage until he becomes an active protagonist; that is until Lensky brings him to the Larina household half-way through the first scene. After Lensky kills himself, he gets up and takes a bow and then sits at the back of the stage to watch the story develop further.
Do we witness memories of Onegin and Lensky? Or suggestions like ‘what if’?
Presumably to focus on character developments and psychological aspects, Huffman’s set designer Hyemi Shin presents a blank stage with a black cover at the back throughout. There are no sets, except a few chairs which the singers bring on and take away. On the other hand, Astrid Klein’s costumes are plentiful, meaningful, and pleasing: neither nineteenth-century nor contemporary but fitting with the story and characters.
Lucy Burge’s choreography is skilful and tasteful but it seems to connect more with the empty stage than the romanticism of the story and Tchaikovsky’s music. Instead of spirited grand group dances – indicated by plot and music – mostly we get a handful of professional dancers dutifully delivering their allocated tasks.
Tchaikovsky had young student singers at the premiere; whether by accident or design, this Royal Opera production leans towards youth in the main roles. I can only heap praise on soprano Kristina Mkhitaryan (Tatyana), with beautiful top as well as bottom notes and with a wide variety of tonal colours. Alto Avery Amereau (Olga) uses her rich creamy voice and athletic skills to perfection. Tenor Liparit Avetisyan (Lensky) stopped the show with both of his great arias: he seems to have been born for this part (but, judging by his singing, for many other parts too). I am less enthusiastic about baritone Gordon Bintner: he looks the part but his voice production from below the notes was not helpful for some of his higher ones, Also, Onegin is not a nice character but, arguably, we should have some understanding, even affection for him. However, on the strength of Bintner’s portrayal, I am afraid I had no sympathy for him.
Bass Brindley Sherratt (Prince Gremin) delivered his wonderful aria with dignity and credibility. I do not understand why the character of Monsieur Triquet had to be presented as an imbecilic fool. He sings a beautiful, charming song – wishing Tatyana a happy life at her birthday party – but the beauty of Tchaikovsky’s French-style song is spoiled by this characterisation.
Tchaikovsky’s score is grand, romantic storytelling. It is packed with a variety of colours, tempi, dynamics. It is permanently moving forward although important motives keep returning. Rhythm and melody are equal partners, with tight structures as well as grand cresendos/decrescendos and accelerandos/ritenutos. The changes are frequent and plentiful. During the first eight bars of the orchestral introduction, there are five markings for piano, four for crescendo, one for forte and one for diminuendo…and these are only the first eight bars.
The composer Tchaikovsky honoured the words of the librettist Tchaikovsky: he did not only compose romantic, lyrical music but also did word painting. Conductor Henrik Nánási understands and implements Tchaikovsky’s word painting, carries out all of Tchaikovsky’s musical instructions and inspires his orchestra to sensitive chamber music as well as to passionate drive. If one knows the Onegin story, Nánási’s orchestral performance will make sense even without any of the words.
In a recent review about a performance of Ariadne auf Naxos I posed the question: how often are conductors and creative teams in harmony in opera houses? I left the question open, but the answer would have been ‘rarely’.
It seems to me that, in this new production of Eugene Onegin, Nánási conducts Tchaikovsky’s rich musical score and not the blank stage. Rightly so.
Agnes Kory
Featured Image: Christophe Mortagne (Monsieur Triquet) and Kristina Mkhitaryan (Tatyana) © Tristram Kenton
Cast:
Eugene Onegin – Gordon Bintner
Tatyana – Kristina Mkhitaryan
Vladimir Lensky – Liparit Avetisyan
Olga – Avery Amereau
Prince Gremin – Brindley Sherratt
Madame Larina – Alison Kettlewell
Filipyevna – Rhonda Browne
Triquet – Christophe Mortagne
Zaretsky – Jamie Wollard
Production:
Director – Ted Huffman
Costumes – Astrid Klein
Movement director – Lucy Burge
Set designer – Hyemi Shin
Lighting – D.M. Wood
Chorus director – William Spaulding
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