For all the brilliance
with which Tchaikovsky establishes the inevitability of the
action it is his ability to expose the inner thoughts and torments
of the central characters that, in the right hands, makes Onegin
such strong stuff.
In this production
for Glyndebourne Festival Opera, director Graham Vick gives
the work some much needed space for the action to unfold. This
takes place in an organic manner established from the moment
the curtain rises. The first refrain – a phrase that seemingly
has 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.
Yvonne
Minton’s Madame Larina and Ludmilla Filatova’s nurse Filippyevna
are women of a certain age. Despite their country roots they
have experienced the world; albeit a small part of it. They
sing with the air of knowledge gained at the price of happiness
– that same air with which Tatyana sings at the work’s close.
Perhaps
unwittingly, Lensky articulates the key difference between Onegin
and himself – “like prose and poetry”. It is such difference
in character that ultimately leads to Lensky’s fate. His music
is at first of rural type, showing a 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. Martin Thompson articulates the role
with ease and command of voice, whilst realising with affecting
subtlety the sadness of Lensky’s situation. Wojciech Drabowicz
as Onegin is not exactly dashing in appearance. Even on our
first encounter with him there is the air of superiority that
clouds his judgement with Tatyana, Olga and Lensky at various
points in the action and that eventually seals his fate. This
haughtiness of tone carries through in some small way to his
singing, making for convincing characterisation. It serves to
accentuate Onegin’s despair in the closing scene when all reserve
is thrown aside as he finally gives 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. At the time of this production Elena
Prokina was greatly praised for her assumption, and I find it
a powerful one still. With impetuous feeling fuelled by reading,
she gives her heart willingly, only to have the gift rebuked
with a sermon at the first opportunity. The great ‘letter scene’
(Act I, scene ii) is searingly delivered, fully capturing the
force of emotions that must out in her missive to Onegin. Yet
his rebuke is 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. Neither Prokina, Drabowicz nor Vick disappoint.
The action is all the more effective because it is given with
simplicity of staging – the ball scenes come into their own
here.
Such
is the strength of characterisation amongst ‘lesser roles’ that
Tchaikovsky clearly was at pains to make sure they were not
overlooked in production. If he though 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. Louise Winter believably
charts the course from frivolity to sorrow though she never
seems insipid. John Fryatt as Monsieur Triquet makes the most
of his character part: the stereotypical elderly French fop.
Of greater gravitas is Frode Olsen’s Gremin. This is a man who
we might believe has seen battle, yet in the autumn of his years
is genuinely moved by the love he finds in Tatyana. His portrayal,
delivered with sureness of vocal tone, makes Tatyana’s decision
to remain faithful to him all the more believable.
In
terms of dramatic pacing Eugene Onegin can be
a difficult work to judge – it has simultaneously to maintain
a stillness in the inevitability of its course, yet there are
key moments when the action must be propelled forward. Andrew
Davis, by and large, judges things well. He draws characterful
playing from the London Philharmonic too. Though his reading
might lack psychological insight through the orchestral accompaniment,
he does at least allow Tchaikovsky’s thoughtful use of brass
and woodwind textures to come through naturally. The patina
of these instrumental colours adds immeasurably to any traversal
of the score. The recording throughout is beyond reproach in
terms of clarity, and the video direction, for the most part,
shows what you’d want to see.
I can only agree
with my colleague Robert Farr in his comments on another Warner
DVD release:
My only criticism
relates to the rather sparse Chapter Divisions and the lack
of a booklet with some background to the opera and this memorable
production. All that is provided is a brief resumé of the plot,
with no cross-reference to the listed Chapters. This is printed
on the inside face of the DVD cover.
Vick’s absorbing
production combines with movingly sung and acted characterisations
to produce a reading that demands serious attention.
Evan Dickerson
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