Tchaikovsky:
Evgeny Onegin
Opera
Holland Park 13 July 2012
Conductor
Alexander
Polianichko, Director
Daniel Slater,
Designer Leslie
Travers, Lighting
Designer Mark
Jonathan, Choreographer
Denni Sayers
Onegin Mark Stone, Tatyana Anna Leese, Lensky Peter Auty, Olga Hannah Pedley, Madame Larina Anne Mason, Prince Gremin Graeme Broadbent, Filippyevna Elizabeth Sikora, Triquet Gareth Dafydd Moriss,
Zaretsky/Captain Barnaby Rea
Onegin Mark Stone, Tatyana Anna Leese, Lensky Peter Auty, Olga Hannah Pedley, Madame Larina Anne Mason, Prince Gremin Graeme Broadbent, Filippyevna Elizabeth Sikora, Triquet Gareth Dafydd Moriss,
Zaretsky/Captain Barnaby Rea
With the
City of London Sinfonia and the Opera Holland Park Chorus
Tchaikovsky's
Onegin is treated to a gentle re-imagining in this new production at
Holland Park. Director Daniel Slater throws in a handful of clever
ideas to contextualise the drama and to suggest some deeper
psychology. His interventions get more radical as the evening
progresses, and for some reason the musical standards at this first
night performance followed suit, with both the music and drama
becoming more convincing as the evening progressed.
The
unfortunate result is that there is a lot of mediocrity to sit
through before this Onegin really comes to life. The performance
began with a less than promising prelude. Those swooning string
figures in the opening bars had to compete against a wide range of
noises-off from the park, and the tiny string section (how can you
perform Onegin with only two cellos?) wholly failed to set the mood.
The musical coordination was also shaky for the first scene or so,
and the incoherent opening ensemble from the four leads was a
worrying omen of what was to follow.
Perhaps
this was just first night jitters though, as the standards soon
improved, with each of the lead singers becoming more and more
convincing, both musically and dramatically. Director Daniel Slater
sets the first two acts in a decaying aristocratic environment of
late 19th/early 20th century Russia. It's more
Chekhov than Pushkin but it works well enough. Slater ensures that
the singers always act; the drama is always engaged, and usually
engaging, although the sheer weight of detail can occasionally make
the interactions seem clumsy.
For his
first big idea, Slater has the silent figures of the mature Onegin
and Tatyana stalking their younger selves throughout this first act.
Combined with the decayed opulence of the scenery and the often
nostalgic music, this places the action of the first act squarely in
the past tense. Otherwise, the interpretive interventions in the
first two acts are minimal. There is an interesting piece of
choreography after the letter scene, in which the ladies of the
chorus all briefly become Tatyanas, all swarming around Onegin, each
offering him a letter. But Slater doesn't mess with the set pieces,
giving fairly traditional accounts of the letter scene and the duel,
both of which are presented with an impressive sense of atmosphere.
The
cast is mostly young, but most of the singers have the vocal maturity
to inhabit their respective roles. Tatyana and Olga are certainly
convincing when played by the young singers Anna Leese and Hannah
Pedley. It takes a greater stretch of the imagination to see the
equally young Mark Stone and Peter Auty as Onegin and Lensky, but
they just about pull it off.
Top
musical honours go to Anna Leese, whose performance as Tatyana is
worth coming out to West London for on its own. The richness and
timbral complexity of her voice makes her performance endlessly
fascinating. And she's got a real knack for presenting the drama of
the story in her singing, a rare gift indeed. That said, she has a
tendency to go sharp and the top, and she doesn't support the ends of
longer phrases as well as she might, a failing Tchaikovsky’s music
highlights. Even so, she remains this company's greatest asset. There
was no danger of Hannah Pedley stealing the show from her, although
Pedley's Olga had the clearest diction of any of the roles.
Mark
Stone presents Onegin as a complex and not very likeable character,
although it took him until the last act to really inhabit the role.
Peter Auty plays Lensky for laughs in the first act, allowing some
character development leading into his more angst-ridden role in the
second. Both could do with another ten years or so to develop the
richness in the lower register that give those characters their
authority. Similarly with Graeme Broadbent in the role of Gremin –
he's basso yes, but profundo no. Hearing this lightweight rendition
of the Prince in Act Three highlighted the fact that their wasn't a
single Russian singer in the cast, an unusual situation for any
Onegin.
There
was a Russian on the podium though, and Alexander Polianichko has
more experience with this score than anybody else involved. He gave a
passionate but ordered account, and after the orchestra had settled
down around the middle of the first act, he was able to deliver a
thoroughly Russian sound from the pit.
The
reason for the Chekov-era setting of Acts 1 and 2 become clear at the
start of the third, where it transpired that the five years that
Onegin had spent abroad had spanned the Revolution. That's a clever
ploy on a number of levels, the most obvious being the iconography it
provides for this last act, all proletarian uniforms and
Revolutionary posters (the big face of Lenin in the wardrobe was
taking things a bit far though). 'Prince' Gremin is now a captain in
the Soviet army, with Tatyana his devoted bride, and Onegin a White
Russian out of step with the new order. In terms of the narrative,
this allows the director to make sense of Tatyana's devotion to her
new husband – as a symptom of revolutionary fervour rather than
continuing naivety. All in all the revolutionary thing is a great
idea, and it doesn't seriously grate against the libretto either.
Daniel
Slater's interpretive ideas are strongly weighted towards the end of
the work, with even the theme of remembrance in the first act making
the crucial drama there into a mere prelude for what is to come. This
dramatic trajectory is at odds with Tchaikovsky’s (let alone
Pushkin's) symmetrical and evenly balanced narrative. If the musical
standards had been even throughout, this device might have worked
better, but when combined with the ensemble problems in the first
act, the overall impression was that the start of the opera was being
effectively written off in favour of the more imaginatively staged
conclusion.
A good
Onegin then, but an uneven one. Musically, a larger orchestra and a
few more mature singers could have improved matters. Dramatically,
the interpretation convinces because every interaction in the story
is acknowledged, and many are explored in detail. Just enough new
ideas are added in to allow us to take a fresh look at the story, and
without it changing beyond recognition. But it takes a long time to
get going, and the first act does feel like a wasted opportunity,
especially in comparison with the many musical and dramatic insights
that follow.
No comments:
Post a Comment