Subscribe to
Opera Today

Receive articles and news via RSS feeds or email subscription.


twitter_logo[1].gif



9780521746472.png

0810888688.gif

0810882728.gif

Recently in Reviews

Anna Netrebko, now a dramatic soprano, shines in the Met’s dark and murky ‘Macbeth’

The former lyric soprano holds up well — and survives the intrusive close-up camerawork of the ‘Live in HD’ transmission

Arizona Opera Presents First Mariachi Opera

Houston Grand Opera commissioned Cruzar la Cara de la Luna from composer José “Pepe” Martínez, music director of Mariachi Vargas de Tecalitlán, who wrote the text together with Broadway and opera director Leonard Foglia. The work had its world premier in 2010. Since then, it has traveled to several cities including Paris, Chicago, and San Diego.

Plácido Domingo: I due Foscari, London

“Why should I go to hear Plácido Domingo” someone said when Verdi’s I due Foscari was announced by the Royal Opera House. There are very good reasons for doing so.

Philip Glass’s The Trial

Music Theatre Wales presented the world premiere of Philip Glass’s The Trial (Kafka) last night at the Linbury, Royal Opera House. Music Theatre Wales started doing Glass in 1989. Their production of Glass’s In the Penal Colony in 2010 was such a success that Glass conceived The Trial specially for the company.

Joyce DiDonato: Alcina, Barbican, London

To say that the English Concert’s performance of Handel’s Alcina at the Barbican on 10 October 2014 was hotly anticipated would be an understatement. Sold out for weeks, the performance capitalised on the draw of its two principals Joyce DiDonato and Alice Coote and generated the sort of buzz which the work did at its premiere.

Un ballo in maschera in San Francisco

The subject is regicide, a hot topic during the Italian risorgimento when the Italian peninsula was in the grip of the Hapsburgs, the Bourbons, the House of Savoy and the Pontiff of the Catholic Church.

A New Don Giovanni and Anniversary at Lyric Opera of Chicago

Lyric Opera of Chicago opened its sixtieth anniversary season with a new production of Mozart’s Don Giovanni directed by Artistic Director of the Goodman Theater, Robert Falls.

Grande messe des morts, LSO

It was a little over two years ago that I heard Sir Colin Davis conduct the Berlioz Requiem in St Paul’s Cathedral; it was the last time I heard — or indeed saw — him conduct his beloved and loving London Symphony Orchestra.

Guillaume Tell, Welsh National Opera

Part of their Liberty or Death season along with Rossini’s Mose in Egitto and Bizet’s Carmen, Welsh National Opera performed David Pountney’s new production of Rossini’s Guillaume Tell (seen 4 October 2014).

Mose in Egitto, Welsh National Opera

Welsh National Opera’s production of Rossini’s Mose in Egitto was the second of two Rossini operas (the other is Guillaume Tell) performed in tandem for their autumn tour.

L’incoronazione di Poppea, Barbican Hall

In Monteverdi’s first Venetian opera, Il Ritorno d’Ulisse (1641), Penelope’s patient devotion as she waits for the return of her beloved Ulysses culminates in the triumph of love and faithfulness; in contrast, in L’incoronazione di Poppea it is the eponymous Queen’s lust, passion and ambition that prevail.

Rameau’s Les Paladins, Wigmore Hall

After the triumphs of love, the surprises: Les Paladins, under their director Jérôme Correas, and soprano Sandrine Piau are following their tour of material from their 2011 CD, ‘Le Triomphe de L’amour’, with a new amatory arrangement.

Puccini : The Girl of the Golden West, ENO London

At the ENO, Puccini's La fanciulla del West becomes The Girl of the Golden West. Hearing this opera in English instead of Italian has its advantages, While we can still hear the exotic, Italianate Madama Butterfly fantasies in the orchestra, in English, we're closer to the original pot-boiler melodrama. Madama Biutterfly is premier cru: The Girl of the Golden West veers closer, at times, to hokum. The new ENO production gets round the implausibility of the plot by engaging with its natural innocence.

Anna Caterina Antonacci, Wigmore Hall, London

Presenting a well-structured and characterful programme, Italian soprano Anna Caterina Antonacci demonstrated her prowess in both soprano and mezzo repertoire in this Wigmore Hall recital, performing European works from the early years of the twentieth century. Assuredly accompanied by her regular pianist Donald Sulzen, Antonacci was self-composed and calm of manner, but also evinced a warmly engaging stage presence throughout.

Il barbiere di Siviglia, Royal Opera

Bold, bright and brash, Moshe Leiser and Patrice Caurier’s Il barbiere di Siviglia tells its story clearly in complementary primary colours.

Gluck and Bertoni at Bampton

Bampton Classical Opera’s 2014 double bill neatly balanced drollery and gravity. Rectifying the apparent prevailing indifference to the 300th centenary of Christoph Willibald Gluck birth, Bampton offered a sharp, witty production of the composer’s Il Parnaso confuso, pairing this ‘festa teatrale’ with Ferdinando Bertoni’s more sombre Orfeo.

Purcell: A Retrospective

Harry Christophers and The Sixteen Choir and Orchestra launched the Wigmore Hall’s two-year series, ‘Purcell: A Retrospective’, in splendid style. Flexibility, buoyancy and transparency were the watchwords.

Mahler: Symphony no.3 — Prom 73

It would be unfair, but one could summarise this concert with the words, ‘Senator, you’re no Leonard Bernstein.’

Los Angeles Opera Opens with La traviata

On September 13, Los Angeles Opera opened its 2014-2015 season with a revival of Marta Domingo’s updated, Art Deco staging of Giuseppe Verdi’s La traviata. It starred Nino Machaidze as Violetta, Arturo Chácon-Cruz as Alfredo, and Plácido Domingo as Giorgio Germont. The conductor was Music Director James Conlon.

Stars of Lyric Opera at Millennium Park, 2014

In its annual concert previewing the forthcoming season Lyric Opera of Chicago presented its “Stars of Lyric Opera at Millennium Park” during the past weekend to a large audience of enthusiastic listeners.

OPERA TODAY ARCHIVES »

Reviews

Karita Mattila as Tatiana and Thomas Hampson in the title role of Tchaikovsky's
08 Feb 2009

Eugene Onegin at the MET

Pushkin’s poem Eugene Onegin is the first of the great line of Russian novels, passionately loved by all the literate of that most literary nation.

Pyotr Il’yich Tchaikovsky: Eugene Onegin

Tatiana: Karita Mattila; Olga: Ekaterina Semenchuk; Larina: Wendy White; Filippyevna: Barbara Dever; Onegin: Thomas Hampson; Lensky: Piotr Beczala; Triquet: Tony Stevenson; Prince Gremin: Sergei Aleksashkin. Conducted by Jiří Bělohlávek. Production by Robert Carsen. Metropolitan Opera, performance of February 2.

Above: Karita Mattila as Tatiana and Thomas Hampson as Onegin

All photos by Beatriz Schiller courtesy of The Metropolitan Opera.

 

The problem with turning this classic into a romantic opera was compounded, though, by the poet’s ironic outlook, and this Tchaikovsky proposed to answer by changing the ending — by having the two protagonists admit their love and run off together. A friend of his sister’s took him to her garden house and, in the course of one of those long Russian summer evenings, argued him out of his resolve, convinced him to keep Pushkin’s classically balanced conclusion: as Onegin once coldly, preachily rejected the ardent young Tatiana, now, years later, when he has fallen in love with her, Tatiana coldly dismisses him. (No record survives of that conversation in the garden house, but what an opera it would make! — something earnest and chatty, like Dargomyzhsky’s Stone Guest or Rimsky-Korsakov’s Mozart and Salieri.)

In both Pushkin — where Tatiana simply states she will remain faithful to her marriage vows — and in the opera, where a rather more passionate debate takes place (because romantic opera requires passionate duets, and Tchaikovsky had denied himself one in Act I), Tatiana’s nobility in the teeth of her feelings, and Onegin’s despair, are made far more palpable in the music-drama.

It’s interesting to compare the two Onegins — novel and opera — to the two Thaïs, novel and opera, brought to our attention at the Met a few weeks ago. Anatole France was an ironist, and his novel about a courtesan who becomes a saint while the saint who converted her loses his faith is, frankly, a satire — in order to make a romantic opera out of it, Massenet had to invent its characters anew, and the degree of his success depends on whether or not you care for Massenet’s music. (I don’t.)

Pushkin was a sophisticated romantic, or rather, he had been one in his youth, and the plot of Onegin is his ironical view of the sort of young man he had been (or known), and the sort of woman he had loved. His characters are all great readers of French and English literature — he tells us just what each has been reading (Lensky aloud to Olga) — and their behavior owes a great deal to self-conscious affectation. Tatiana cannot even write her famous letter in Russian — she assumes a love letter must be written in French, her only model for such things. (Tchaikovsky changed that, of course.) Onegin identifies with Byron’s scarred, bored, doomed heroes even before he kills his best friend and goes into exile — and it is Pushkin’s joke that, having traveled the world like an aimless Byronic hero, he comes home to find he would actually have been quite happy living on a Russian country estate with the right wife. But she is no longer available — unlike so many society ladies, she is monogamous, and receives his overtures with distaste. We have had a hint of this — which Tchaikovsky retains for his opening scene — in her mother’s recollections of the novels she used to read (Richardson, Grandison), of the worthless man she fell in love with, of her arranged marriage to Tatiana’s father, of her contentment with “habit” over happiness. Like mother, like daughter: in the scenes that follow, we see the same story play out in the younger generation.

ONEGIN_Semenchuk_Beczala_41.pngEkaterina Semenchuk as Olga and Piotr Beczala as Lenski.

When Tchaikovsky dramatized this sixty years after it was written, as his sister’s friend pointed out, the novel was too well known and too well loved to alter its conclusion. At that, he had a far easier time than Massenet in making musically romantic figures out of his hero and heroine — because they were more romantic to begin with, or maybe he was just better at it. Too, failing to find the proper ironic tone for Onegin himself (he comes into his own as a character only in the last act, when he has abandoned his posing), Tchaikovsky undercut him by making naïve Tatiana the focus of Act I, doomed Lensky the focus of Act II, and giving the big aria in Act III to Tatiana’s elderly husband, a cipher in the novel. Onegin is the odd man out in his own opera; this can make him hard to portray sympathetically, though Dmitri Hvorostovsky achieved it at the Met two years ago (and on HDTV telecast), appearing callow in Act I and passionate in Act III as if he had indeed undergone a soul-transformation.

The current Met revival of Onegin, though sumptuously cast and gloriously sung, has the flaw that Thomas Hampson is rather too old, too saturnine, too gray — in manner and appearance if not voice — to portray the poseur of Act I. His acting is carefully judged, his singing suave (he’s in better voice than he was in Thaïs, where his affect hardly seemed that of a desert ascetic), but his grayness, his chilliness, cause one to doubt the romantic conversion. This is not fatal in so excellent a revival, but it does restrain one’s enthusiasm — not least because Robert Carsen’s minimalist production all but omits the social settings that Tchaikovsky thought so important to comprehension of the story: we focus on the individuals, and if they let us down, there is nothing to fall back on. I will discuss my problems with this staging below.

Renée Fleming scored one of her worthiest triumphs of recent seasons in the last revival of Onegin, but to my mind Karita Mattila is better. If you (as I do) usually prefer one of these ladies to the other, Tatiana will not change your mind — if you love both, you will be very happy. As she has shown in Jenufa and Katya Kabanova, Mattila has a particular affinity for young women troubled by romantic complications. In the opening scene, following Pushkin, we find her buried in her book among the birch trees, but her Letter Scene is a sensual awakening, and here the shining metal of her voice takes on a quality, one might call it, of adolescent idealism. This is certainly enhanced by her childish, clumsy movements, the trembling of her hand when Onegin returns her letter, make this a finished stage portrayal, but it is her hopeful, springing soliloquy that thrills, makes her a girl newly awakened to love, a heroine. The woman who appears in Act III not only moves and dresses differently, she seems to sing with a different voice, a thicker, more mature sound, a womanly voice as opposed to a girlish one. Both voices are beautiful, it is hardly necessary to state — but that she has thought out how to deploy them to make us understand two different Tatianas, girl and wife, is a feature of Mattila’s claim to be the greatest singing actress on the lyric stage today.

The young Polish tenor Piotr Beczala, who is having quite a winter replacing less sturdy tenors in Lucia and Rigoletto, sang a perfect Lensky — ardent, jejune, his mood flashing from ecstasy to despair, with a delicious, youthfully liquid quality to his voice and even a hint of Italianate sob. Olga usually makes no impression, but Ekaterina Semenchuk’s attractive presence and luscious Slavic mezzo made us notice her brief moment at center stage in the opening scene. Wendy White sang an effective Larina, Barbara Dever a most imposing Filippyevna, Tony Stevenson a rather uncharacterized Triquet, and Sergei Aleksashkin a stalwart Prince Gremin without having quite the authority to overshadow the lovers in the last act as a really thunderous Russian bass will often do. Jiří Bělohlávek led the Met orchestra in a sublime, supportive, lithely flowing and (a few brass blooples aside) exquisite account of this wonderful score.

So we come to Robert Carsen’s scenery-free production, on which viewers bitterly divide. The point of its bareness appears to be to focus the drama more closely on the principals to the exclusion of all else — the social backdrop against which Pushkin and Tchaikovsky have lovingly placed them, for instance. The score contains three extended dance sequences by which Tchaikovsky unfolds the story from rural simplicity to gentry interacting to the grand world, and these are, to say the least, underplayed here — bored-looking peasant women rake leaves, cramped choristers sing of the pleasure of dancing while unable to move, and against the aristocratic polonaise, a troupe of footmen redress Onegin in court costume, scenting his fingers and touching up his coiffure. Since the characters are social beings, whose motivations owe a great deal to appearances, I get Tchaikovsky’s point but not Carsen’s. True, one does not waste time during the name-day party trying to find the lovers in the crowd, but there is no pleasure to be seen in that cramped assembly. The dance music is intrinsic to the opera, and it seems unnecessarily affected not to permit dancing if the orchestra is going to play all of it. What the staging does is not to draw attention to the principals or their story — the opera and the singers have already done that — but to the stage director. Did we need that? Is anything worthwhile accomplished by it?

Still: an engrossing sung and acted Onegin, not to be missed; if possible to be seen repeatedly.

John Yohalem

Send to a friend

Send a link to this article to a friend with an optional message.

Friend's Email Address: (required)

Your Email Address: (required)

Message (optional):