Yevgeny Onegin, Opera Holland Park, OHP, July 2012

This production by Daniel Slater updates the action by nearly 100 years to a time we all understand, making it clear that Onegin is living in the past. Such was arguably Pushkin’s intent in setting his novel in the period 1819–25 when reforms were very much in the air, and later crushed. Here we are in pre-First World War Russia in Acts I and II, followed by Lenin’s new world in Act III.

Olga and Tatyana, with Onegin revisiting the past; all images OHP/ Fritz Curzon

The sets by Leslie Travers show the destruction of the old aristocratic world, and during the brief musical introduction we see a man, and a woman, both in black coat and hat, gazing on what they have lost. Onegin has lost his earlier life: the dreamy country girl he rebuffed and humiliated, and his friend the provincial poetaster whom he killed in an absurd duel over the country girl’s vacuous sister. When he and she eventually meet again in Act III, the country girl Tatyana is now married to the worthy Prince Gremin, and Anna Leese’s monologue represented vocally how disturbed she feels at their new encounter. When he comes to her room, her heartfelt Ya vas lyublyu! (I love you) was a pivotal moment of pure Russian emotion, brilliantly supported by the orchestra under the direction of Alexander Polianichko, who conducted the same opera for the ENO nearly twenty years ago.

Tatyana and Onegin

The Russian diction was generally very good, and Hannah Pedley as a saucily amusing Olga was outstanding in this respect. Anne Mason represented a calm and dignified presence as the girls’ mother, and Elizabeth Sikora a comfily simple Filippyevna. Peter Auty as Lensky came across as truly Russian, singing a lyrically melodious Ya lyublyu vas to Olga in Act I, and suddenly losing his rag in Act II. As his second in the duel, Barnaby Rea’s diction was excellent, his Ubit over Lensky’s body having an air of utter finality, and in Act III Graeme Broadbent made a commanding figure as Prince Gremin, his main monologue powerfully sung.

Mark Stone portrayed Onegin as an attractive, sympathetic man, albeit narcissistic and aloof from the country folk, and sang this role very well. Anna Leese as Tatyana was outstanding, not just in Act III, but in the letter scene where she showed superb impulsiveness and emotional energy. It was a gripping performance suddenly raising the drama to a higher level.

That letter scene was cleverly played in this production, with multiple letters in the hands of the female chorus, all in nightdresses like Tatyana, and as they exited stage rear it made a poignant scene. Among other nice points, Monsieur Triquet’s silly doggerel in Act II was delivered as if he himself is in love with Tatyana, falling on his knees in front of her before being dragged away. Onegin does the same at the end of Act III, before she draws on inner resources to send him away herself.

Wonderfully subtle lighting changes by Mark Jonathan helped alter the emotional tone of events, and Alexander Polianichko’s conducting gave a fine example of Russian brass playing at the start of Act III. This is a must-see.

Performances continue until August 4 — for details click here.

Rigoletto, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, March 2012

In Act III of this opera, Rigoletto takes his daughter Gilda to Sparafucile’s tavern to show her the Duke’s real nature. She hears him singing La donna è mobile, sees him having fun with Maddalena, and is shocked and heartbroken. Her father takes her home, sends her off to Verona, but … being too busy arranging the murder of the Duke, he fails to accompany her. Revenge is his fatal flaw, and the result is tragedy.

Observing from outside the tavern, all images Johan Persson

As Rigoletto’s satisfaction turns to grief at finding his daughter’s body in the sack where the Duke’s should be, John Eliot Gardiner’s conducting had a lightness of touch that made the final thump from the orchestra so much stronger. Gilda’s head falls back as she finally expires, and her father cries out Ah, la maledizione!, recalling the curse laid on him by Monterone. It’s such a strong ending by Verdi, compared to Victor Hugo’s original play Le roi s’amuse, where the jester laments J’ai tué mon enfant, and falls to the ground. But of course in opera they can sing, and Ekaterina Siurina sang beautifully as Gilda, with Dimitri Platanias an outstanding Rigoletto. His lovely tone in Act I elicited my sympathy, and in Act II his heartfelt la mia figlia, followed by his condemnation of the courtiers came over with huge power. Revival director Leah Hausman staged it beautifully, and as the sneering courtier Marullo gives Rigoletto his stick back, it clatters uselessly to the ground.

But of course it is more than just Rigoletto and his daughter. Vittorio Grigolo as the Duke sang gloriously, showing just the right air of casual hedonism. Matthew Rose was a strong Sparafucile, and Christine Rice as his sister Maddalena was superb — seductive and charming in her interactions with the Duke.

Among the smaller roles, Zhengzhong Zhou showed fine vocal and stage presence as Marullo, Gianfranco Montresor came over very well as Monterone, and Elizabeth Sikora gave a fine portrayal of Gilda’s nurse. This was a team effort held together beautifully by John Eliot Gardiner, and my only complaint in this David McVicar production is the first scene of Act I.

Father and daughter at home

Gilda has only been in town for three months, she wants to have some fun, and the Duke, disguised as a student, has been following her to church. Yes, he’s a serial philanderer, but is he really a person to preside over dissolute orgies, which if you look closely — at the homosexual and heterosexual engagements going on — no-one is really doing anything. Yes, it’s impressionistic, but it’s not the right impression. The main point is that Gilda believes the Duke (albeit disguised as a student) to be in love with her, and the court should be a rather glamorous place. This is why her father needs to show her what the Duke is really like, by taking her to Sparafucile’s tavern.

The first scene makes it look as if the director is out to shock us, but the rest of the production is excellent, and the singing and conducting at the dress rehearsal was absolutely terrific. This is a cast very well worth seeing and performances continue until April 21 — for details click here.

La Sonnambula, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, November 2011

Bellini’s La Sonnambula, like Donizetti’s Linda di Chamounix was regarded in nineteenth century Italy as a classical example of the pastoral genre, and oddly enough the heroine and her mother in these performances of Sonnambula feature the same singers as Covent Garden’s concert performance of Linda di Chamounix two years ago.

All ROH images Bill Cooper

Eglise Gutiérrez was the sleepwalking Amina, and Elizabeth Sikora sang beautifully as her mother Teresa. Ms Gutiérrez produced some lovely soft notes in this technically demanding role, and after a nervous start she warmed up during the evening and her ‘mad scene’ was superbly sung. This is after the second sleepwalking episode, when her beloved Elvino has rejected her and now intends to marry his former lover Lisa, thinking Amina has been unfaithful. The reverse is the case and it is Lisa who has paid court to the Count, but truth will out in the end and the excitable young lovers are reunited.

Amina at her wedding party in Act I

Spanish tenor Celso Albelo was terrific as Elvino, being on top form from beginning to end, and giving serious meaning to the term bel canto. And with Michele Pertusi singing superbly as Count Rodolfo, a role he has performed in many major opera houses, including the Met’s live relay in March 2009, this was a wonderful cast. Pertusi looked very much the part with his wonderful stage presence, and Elena Xanthoudakis was a wittily assertive Lisa. Her voice had a wonderful purity in the Proms this past summer as William Tell’s son Jemmy, and came over powerfully here as the hostess of the inn. Korean bass Jihoon Kim sang well as her new admirer, whose handsome smugness well deserved the shoe she threw at him, and I only wish it had gone through the air rather than along the floor.

Act II 'mad scene'

Sudden fits of temper are a useful feature of this production by Marco Arturo Marelli, and I loved the chair being thrown through the window by the furious Elvino. Glass shattered and the snow came in, but the warmth of Bellini’s score was well captured by Daniel Oren in the orchestra pit, and this revival, nine years after the production’s first performances is very welcome indeed.

Performances continue until November 18 — for details click here — and there is a BBC Radio 3 broadcast on Saturday, 19 November at 6pm.

Linda di Chamounix, Royal Opera, September 2009

This late work by Donizetti was written for a Viennese audience and first performed in May 1842, then revised for Paris in November the same year. It was a great success, but its rather silly plot is now little known, so I’ll give a brief synopsis. Linda is a very pretty peasant, loved by, and in love with, an apparently impecunious artist named Carlo. Unfortunately the local Marquis has designs on Linda, and her father Antonio is dependent on him for the renewal of their lease. To add to the complication, Carlo is the nephew of the Marquis, a fact hidden from everyone. But before things can come to a head, the young men arrange to go to Paris to perform as street entertainers during the winter months when there is no work, and the local Prefect persuades Linda’s father that she should go with them to keep out of the Marquis’s clutches. Carlo follows her, reveals his true identity, and in Paris sets up a stylish home with her. Carlo’s mother hears of it and makes immediate arrangements for her son to marry a member of the aristocracy. In the meantime, the Marquis visits to persuade Linda to leave with him, but is firmly rebuffed. Then Antonio visits seeking help, and when faced with his daughter, living in luxury, he disowns her. Now comes news of Carlo’s forthcoming marriage, and Linda goes mad. Unlike Lucia di Lammermoor however, this all ends happily. Linda returns to Chamounix with her friend, the orphan Pierotto, and is cured by the sound of music, first from Pierotto, then from Carlo, who sings the words they shared when they first met. The whole village then rejoices in anticipation of their wedding. Rather like Act I of Giselle in reverse.

This was a concert performance, brilliantly conducted by Mark Elder, and the cast, headed by Elise Gutierrez as Linda, and Stephen Costello as a gloriously voiced Carlo, was excellent. The father and mother, Antonio and Maddalena were strongly sung by Ludovic Tezier and Elizabeth Sikora, with Balint Szabo singing a firm bass as the Prefect, and Marianna Pizzolato in the contralto part of Pierotto. But the star of the show for me was Alessandro Corbelli as the Marquis. His voice expressed so well the pomposity of the role, and even his entrances and exits were comic masterpieces. He and the young American, Stephen Costello, who was making his debut at Covent Garden, were a delight to watch with their body language helping to express their feelings, even in this concert performance.

Finally it’s worth mentioning that the stage was beautifully lit for the orchestra and chorus, and the dimmed lighting of the auditorium added to the effect, with the dome lit in blue from two lights in the orchestra pit. A very attractive ‘production’, even if it was merely a concert, and I would gladly see more unusual operas like this. An excellent start to the new season for the Royal Opera House.