Eugene Onegin, English National Opera, ENO, London Coliseum, November 2011

This new production by Deborah Warner, a joint venture with the Metropolitan Opera in New York, goes for big spaces. In Act I a huge barn, in Act II a big hall for the party and broad winter scene for the duel, and in Act III vast pillars reaching upwards for the ballroom, and later outside the mansion for Tatyana’s final rejection of Onegin.

Carefree days: Tatyana and Olga, all images Neil Libbert

These spaces were filled with some excellent singing. Toby Spence as Lensky was so good, both vocally and in his stage presence, that he seemed to be the main character during the first two acts. Then in Act III, Brindley Sherratt sang an outstanding Prince Gremin — it doesn’t get any better than this. Adrian Thompson was a fine Monsieur Triquet, Claudia Huckle a delightful Olga, and Amanda Echalaz as Tatyana came good in the final scene after an uneven performance during the first two acts. As Onegin himself, Norwegian baritone Audun Iversen sang with feeling, but his stage presence was disappointing. Presumably the director wanted to portray him in a kindly light when he rejects Tatyana’s letter, but without the haughtiness early on it’s difficult to appreciate his comeuppance in Act III, and with his lack of insouciance at the party scene when he whisks Olga round the dance floor, it’s hard to appreciate why Lensky would lose his rag.

Lensky confronts Onegin

The party scene was delightful, with kids and kitchen staff joining in the fun — this is after all in the countryside — and the ball scene in Act III was stunning. Kim Brandstrup’s choreography, led by professional dancers, added a great sense of style to the occasion, and the lighting by Jean Kalman showed principal figures clearly at the front of the stage, while those towards the rear appeared as if in a slight mist — very clever.

Lensky and his second await Onegin

I liked the front-drops during the orchestral preludes, and found Tom Pye’s sets very effective. The barn in Act I served as the place where Tatyana wrote her letter, starting at a table but moving to the floor. Yet it was odd that she scribbled almost nothing — it’s an impulsive letter, but long, so this rendered the scene less effective.

Conducting by Edward Gardner brought to life what is Tchaikovsky’s most gripping opera, and the chorus were superb.

Tatyana, Gremin and Onegin

Altogether this is a wonderful new production by the ENO, and the visual effects were so good that the audience spontaneously applauded the ball scene as the curtain opened for Act III.

Performances continue until December 3 — for details click here.

Tosca, English National Opera, ENO, London Coliseum, May 2010

Puccini in English? Some people dislike the idea, particularly for well-known operas they have heard in Italian many times. So they might skip this new production of Tosca by Catherine Malfitano, but that would be a grave mistake. I was so carried away by the raw energy of the performance that I barely noticed the translation into English. In fact it seemed a good translation, but that’s not the point. What’s important is the conducting, the singing, and the production, which I found more moving than Covent Garden’s Tosca.

photo by Robert Workman

Immediately the first chords come from the orchestra, I felt the powerful energy of the music, and the entrance of the fugitive Angelotti seemed more dramatic than I’m used to. By the time Cavaradossi entered and sang strongly about the painting he’s doing, I wondered where it could go from here — but go forward it certainly did. Scarpia entered looking like a black-suited Napoleon, with his henchmen also in black and wearing large sinister top hats. After his poisonous insinuations caused Tosca to collapse, he picked her up from the floor, with barely suppressed desire. Then as the priest and choristers moved forward in the church, Scarpia climbed the painter’s ladder on stage right, the music moved to a glorious climax, and the priest’s red cloak spread perfectly to the front edge of the stage. The lights went dead and applause resounded round the House.

Act II was a welcome relief, despite the realistic off-stage torture scenes. As Tosca sang her famous Vissi d’arte the lighting portrayed her as if in an Italian painting, and as soon as it was over the lighting changed again. Anthony Michaels-Moore as Scarpia was lyrical, attractive and deadly, even bringing forth some admiring boos from the audience at the end. But there was still Act III to come, and musically this was the pièce de résistance.

Tosca and Scarpia in Act II, photo by Robert Workman

The set for Act III was more abstract than the previous sets, the backdrop showing a blown-up image of part of the night sky through a powerful telescope. There was clowning around among the guards at the start, giving a light-hearted air that became heavier and more forceful as the Act progressed. This was accomplished by the excellent conducting of Edward Gardner, along with the brilliant singing of Julian Gavin as Cavaradossi, and Amanda Echalaz as Tosca. I was riveted. The execution went with a bang, and Cavaradossi fell and rolled forward almost to the front of the area he stands on. The music allows us to believe it’s a mock execution, and despite seeing innumerable Toscas I was still half-convinced. The conducting here was superb, and as Tosca realises the truth, the music swells with angst and energy, news of Scarpia’s death is heard, and the way she throws herself off the edge I’ve never seen before in this opera — you must go.

Cavaradossi's execution, photo by Robert Workman

Yes, most people have seen Tosca before, but this production by Catherine Malfitano is, if I can put it this way, a singers’ production. It’s produced by a singer who fully understands the nuances of the characters and their interactions, and it allows the performers to give their best, which they certainly do. The sets by Frank Philipp Schlössmann are wonderful, the costumes by Gideon Davy are excellent, and the lighting by David Martin Jacques is cleverly atmospheric at important moments. Congratulations to the ENO.

Performances continue until July 10, and they certainly deserve to sell out.

Un Ballo in Maschera, Holland Park Opera, July 2009

This Verdi opera is based on an 1833 play by French playwright Eugène Scribe (1791–1861), which in turn is loosely based on the death of King Gustav III of Sweden. He was the victim of a political conspiracy, and shot while attending a masked ball. The opera was first given in 1859, but in a different guise because the censor would not allow a king’s murder to be represented on stage, and the setting was transposed to Boston. The king was replaced by the colonial governor, renamed Riccardo, and his secretary Count Ankarström was renamed Renato. The fortune-teller Madame Arvidson (based on Ulrica Arfvidsson, the most famous fortune-teller in Swedish history) was called only by her first name, Ulrica. Legend has it that the king went to Madame Arfvidsson in disguise, as happens in the opera, and she warned him, “Beware the man with a sword you will meet this evening, for he intends to take your life”. After the king’s murder many of her clients were apparently scared away and she died in poverty.

This production by Martin Lloyd Evans, with designs by Jamie Vartan, set everything in the modern world, centred on the US Government. I found Act I a bit fussy with all the mobile phones and the rushing around, but I thought things improved later and gave a sense of reality to the drama. The key scene in the opera is the Act II midnight encounter between the king and Amelia, where they are surprised by Amelia’s husband Ankarström, and she veils her face. He has come to warn of the conspiracy, and as the king escapes he commands Ankarström to escort the veiled lady back to town without enquiring after her identity. Unfortunately the conspirators intercept them and when her veil comes away in the tussle, and Ankarström sees it is his wife, he joins the plot and the king’s fate is sealed. In this production, Amelia was disguised by sun glasses and a blond wig, rather than being veiled, and the encounter took place in the back-streets, with drug addicts and other ne’er-do-wells appearing and vanishing. Act III was back in the government building, and the scene between Ankarström and his wife, joined later by the conspirators, was very well played, with party guests entering through a metal detector. When the party was underway the guests stayed mainly behind a screen, which I thought focussed the drama well.

Rafael Rojas was to sing King Gustav (presumably the US President in this production) but being out of voice on opening night he acted the part, with David Rendall singing it beautifully from the orchestra pit, and the two of them combined their forces to perfection. Count Ankarström was Icelandic baritone Olafur Sigurdarson, whom I saw last year at Holland Park as Barnaba in La Gioconda, and the year before in L’amore dei tre Re; his voice was strong and fitted the part well, though he lost his pitch at one point. The vital role of Amelia was brilliantly sung by South African soprano Amanda Echalaz — she seems to be a coming star on the operatic stage. The page, portrayed as a young woman, was very charmingly sung by Gail Pearson, the fortune-teller by Carole Wilson, and the conspirators, Counts Ribbing and Horn by Paul Reeves and Simon Wilding. Peter Robinson conducted with great sensitivity to the singers, and I thought this was altogether a very fine Ballo.