British Youth Opera: Tchaikovsky: Eugene Onegin.
Soloists / South Bank Sinfonia / Peter Robinson
(conductor). Peacock Theatre, London. 13.09.06 (ED)
Tatyana |
Katrina Broderick |
Olga |
Clara Mouriz |
Madame Larina |
Catherine Hopper |
Filipyevna |
Sigrídur Ósk Kristjánsdóttir |
A
Singing Worker |
Gareth John |
Vladimir Lensky |
Shaun Dixon |
Eugene Onegin |
George von Bergen |
Captain Petrovitch |
Damian Carter |
Monsieur Triquet |
Eliot Alderman |
Zaretsky |
Jonathan Sells |
Guillot |
Philip Spendley |
Prince Gremin |
Vuyani Mlinde |
Conductor: |
Peter Robinson |
Director: |
William Kerley |
Set Designer: |
Tom Rogers
|
In marked contrast to the
BYO’s production of Don Giovanni, their Eugene Onegin set the
scene in very realistic locations. Making use of wooden scenery to bring a
countryside feel to Act I with wide outdoor spaces, and the provincial interior
for Act II’s ball that contrasted with the grandeur of the St Petersburg ball in
Act III, a sense of progress was instilled in the drama. In many respects the
opera is a chronicle of the lives and loves of its main protagonists, Onegin and
Tatiana, but it is also no less so a window into the very different hearts of
Olga, Lensky and Prince Gremin.
The first refrain – a phrase that should seemingly have no beginning and no end
– sets out the repeating cycle of the action. As Madame Larina’s marriage turned
from love to habit, so her daughter Tatyana moves from impetuous love for Onegin
to acceptance of a lesser feeling for Gremin. In sticking fast to that feeling
she ultimately shapes her fate along with that of Onegin. The seeds of the doom
in Tchaikovsky’s lyrical scenes must be present from the start, with characters
fully formed.
Catherine Hopper’s
Madame Larina and
Sigrídur Ósk Kristjánsdóttir’s
nurse Filippyevna tried bravely to be women of a certain age. Despite their
country roots their characters have experienced the world; albeit a small part
of it, which came through with the air of knowledge gained at the price of
happiness – that same air with which Tatyana sings at the work’s close.
Lensky articulates the key difference between Onegin and himself – “like prose
and poetry”. It is such difference in character that it ultimately leads to
Lensky’s fate. His music is at first of rural type, showing the charming though
not uneducated aspect to his character. However, depth of feeling enters with
his despair at Onegin’s actions during the Larin’s ball and – most tellingly –
in his reflections on love and death just prior to the fateful duel.
Shaun
Dixon
articulated the role with
commanding if nasal voice and realised with subtlety the sadness of Lensky’s
situation.
George von Bergen
as Onegin presented a suave, haughty appearance. Even on our first encounter
with him there was the air of superiority that comes to cloud his judgement with
Tatyana, Olga and Lensky at various points in the action; together, the eventual
cause of his fate. Such tone carried through in some small way to his singing,
making for convincing characterisation. It served to accentuate Onegin’s despair
in the closing scene when all reserve is thrown aside as he finally gave in to
the feelings of his heart.
The creation of Tatyana is the single greatest achievement in all of
Tchaikovsky’s operas. The role requires a singing actress who can move with ease
from the naivety of a girl to the maturity of a woman bearing the emotional
scars of her feelings and of her encounters with Onegin.
Katrina Broderick
is to be praised for her assumption. With impetuous feeling fuelled by reading,
she gave her heart willingly, only to have the gift rebuked with a sermon at the
first opportunity. The great ‘letter scene’ (Act I, scene ii) was confidently
delivered, to capture the forceful emotions that must out in her missive to
Onegin. Yet his rebuke should be but a counter-balance: the highs and lows of
human emotion. It is in their scenes together that the real heart of the work
lies, and largely the production did not disappoint.
Such is the strength of characterisation achievable amongst lesser roles that
Tchaikovsky clearly was at pains to make sure they were not overlooked in
production. If he thought Olga ‘very insipid’, we see this view taken up by
Onegin in thinking her ‘blank-faced’. True, the part may not have a downfall
comparable to Tatyana’s but Olga too is left to unhappiness.
Clara
Mouriz
believably charted the course from frivolity to sorrow, though she never made
Olga seem insipid.
Eliot
Alderman’s
Monsieur Triquet gave a deftness of touch to the stereotypical French fop. Of
greater gravitas is Prince Gremin. This is a man who we should believe has seen
battle, yet in the autumn of his years is genuinely moved by the love he finds
for Tatyana. The portrayal delivered by
Vuyani Mlinde
with sureness of vocal
tone made Tatyana’s decision to remain faithful to him just about believable.
In terms of dramatic pacing
Eugene Onegin
can be a difficult work to
judge – it has simultaneously to maintain stillness in the inevitability of its
course, yet there are key moments when the action must be propelled forward.
Peter Robinson seemed unsure of achieving this mix at times. As a result the
South Bank Sinfonia sometimes sounded stretched in their abilities, but the
colouring of orchestral lines improved as the evening progressed.
Evan Dickerson