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.

Simon Boccanegra, English National Opera, ENO, London Coliseum, June 2011

At the end of this opera, Boccanegra is finally reconciled with his arch-enemy Jacopo Fiesco, and blesses the marriage of his long lost daughter Amelia with the young Gabriele Adorno, a previously sworn enemy. Now, dying of a slow poison, administered by his right hand man Paolo, he asks Fiesco to make Adorno his successor as Doge of Genoa.

The Prologue with Fiesco in the foreground, all photos Mike Hoban

Powerful stuff, and Verdi was a master of expressing father-daughter relationships, but in this production, Amelia who has been — quite rightly — adoring and protective of her father, is suddenly shown to be unable to embrace him as he asks her to when he’s dying. Instead of the opera ending with his peaceful death on stage, he wanders off-stage in a strange paper hat, and she suddenly rushes after him, returning in anguish. As the music quietly ceases we see her having a fit. Why? What’s the point? Cruelty may be in vogue at the moment but there is quite enough in this opera without needing to add more and upset Verdi’s beautiful ending.

The Council Chamber, Boccanegra centre facing

The music has sublime moments, and powerful moments, and was superbly conducted by Edward Gardner. The chorus sang strongly, as did the main performers, and Brindley Sherratt was extremely powerful and entirely convincing, as Fiesco. Rena Harms gave a vivid portrayal of Amelia, Peter Auty came over very strongly as Adorno, and Bruno Caproni showed increasing gravitas as Boccanegra, though his voice was somewhat occluded when he turned away from the audience on several occasions. As Paolo, Boccanegra’s right hand man and later his nastiest enemy, Roland Wood sang very well, and Mark Richardson gave a sinister impression of Paolo’s henchman Pietro.

Adorno and Amelia

The production by Dmitri Tcherniakov, who also designed the sets, contained some imaginative ideas, particularly the flashbacks as the old set for the Prologue reappears by a clever trick of Gleb Filshtinsky’s lighting. I also liked the pedagogical narrative, explaining the story during scene changes. That helps make things clear, particularly for those who may be unfamiliar with the opera, but the costumes made things less clear. Apart from Adorno in his motorcycle gear, most of the men in the ruling oligarchy wore grey suits, making it difficult to distinguish different characters — for example, Boccanegra and Paolo looked remarkably similar. At least Fiesco wore a dark suit, but the uncompromising greyness was a bit much. The Council scene was set in what looked rather like a cheap lecture room with very cheap chairs, perhaps to reflect the tiresomeness of government compared to the colours in the Prologue, which takes place 25 years earlier, as reflected in the late 1950s / early 1960s car and costumes.

At the final curtain calls there were several boos for the production team and I wonder whether this might be due to the strange ending when Amelia refuses to embrace her father? The only explanation I can think of is that Amelia is annoyed with him since she’s only just found her maternal grandfather, but what was in the director’s mind I don’t know, and I can’t see the point. Better to let the music speak over the dead body of Boccanegra, as Verdi intended.

Performances continue until July 9 — for more details click here.

La Forza del Destino, Holland Park Opera, OHP, August 2010

“Vengeance is mine”, saith the Lord, but the quest for revenge by the Calatrava family, personified by its son, Don Carlo, leads to deaths only in the family itself. In his dying throes, Carlo manages to kill his sister Leonora as she comforts him, but the person he most wanted to kill, namely his sister’s beloved Don Alvaro, lives on. Such is Alvaro’s fate, the power of fate being the theme of this opera, whose driving force is Verdi’s music.

The backdrop to Act III, all images OHP/ Fritz Curzon

I’ve always found it terrific stuff, and was delighted with the excellent musical direction by Stuart Stratford, whom I remember doing an equally fine job at Holland Park last summer with Katya Kabanova. Peter Auty was powerfully lyrical as Alvaro, and his soliloquy in Act III, when he pleads with an absent Leonora to pity his suffering, was superb. Mark Stone was a very strong Carlo, and the two of them together in Act III were wonderful. Gweneth-Ann Jeffers as Leonora was remarkable — she modulated her voice seamlessly from quiet passages to loud ones, and gave this role a powerful undertow of emotion. Among the other parts in this opera, Donald Maxwell was delightful as Fra Melitone, amusing, with perfect comic timing and a gloriously strong voice. No wonder I found him so good as the Major-Domo in Fille du Régiment at Covent Garden three months ago. Mikhail Svetlov sang well as Padre Guardiano, as did Carole Wilson as the gypsy Preziosilla, reminding me of her analogous role in Ballo last summer.

Alvaro holds the dying Leonora

The production by Martin Duncan works very well, with wonderful designs by Alison Chitty, whom I recall doing magical work for Birtwistle’s Minotaur at Covent Garden in April 2008. Here she did another piece of magic. Act III had a black cloth backdrop with chairs hanging in front, along with red cords stretching from floor to rafters at various angles. Lampshades hanging from the rafters were lit blue, and the chairs were projected onto the backdrop. Mark Jonathan’s dark lighting on this set produced the effect of a Kandinsky painting, which I thought entirely appropriate to the time in which the opera was set, namely early-mid twentieth century. Altogether this was a superbly designed production using little more than chairs as props — brilliant.

Congratulations to Opera Holland Park, a fitting production for this, the last night of their season.