SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL

Tchaikovsky, Eugene Onegin:  Soloists, Orchestra and Chorus of Norwegian National Opera,  Eivind Gullberg Jensen (conductor) Oslo, 7.1.2011 (GF)

Directed by Jakub Korcak

Choreography by Toni Herlofson

Sets by Igor Popov

Costumes by Suzanne Jetzkova

Lighting Design by Hans-Åke Sjöquist

Cast:

Eugene Onegin – Vasily Ladyuk

Tatiana – Valeria Stenkina

Lensky – Henrik Engelsviken

Prince Gremin – Taras Shtonda

Olga – Tone Kummervold

Larina – Ingebjørg Kosmo

Filipyevna – Tone Kruse

Triquet – Kjell Magnus Sandve

Zaretzky – Florin Demit

Captain – Øystein Skre

A Peasant – Marek Lipok

Production Picture © Norwegian National Opera

Inaugurated in April 2008, the new opera house in Bjørvika, close to Oslo's central station and the city centre, has been in use for almost three years and it is a pleasure to return there, for the architecture, for the atmosphere and of course for the performances. I first visited the house in September 2009 and was kindly offered a very informed guided tour of the house, the essence of which can be read here. The last time I was here, they were playing Dvorak’s Rusalka, and this time another classic Slavonic opera was on the carpet, Tchaikovsky’s Eugene Onegin. The production was originally set up in Gothenburgh some time ago. I didn’t see it then, but the transportation to Oslo has obviously been comfortable. In almost every respect this is a winner from beginning to end.

In terms of drama, Eugene Onegin doesn’t belong to the most blood-curdling of operas. The composer didn’t even call it an opera; ‘lyric scenes’ was his own term and the drama – apart from the violent jealousy at Tatiana’s name-day party and the subsequent duel – develops within the characters (read Tatiana and Onegin – the other characters just vanish after the party). And each time one sees these ‘lyric scenes’ one becomes totally engrossed in Tatiana’s blossoming infatuation, her nightly letter writing and the shame and humiliation she feels when Onegin brusquely dismisses her and her feelings and condescendingly criticizes her. Then in the final scene, when the mature Tatiana sends him away, he is paid back in his own coin. We can understand his despair but also feel sympathy for Tatiana. Onegin is, in most readings, a blasé and self-centred person, not really showing empathy and warm-blooded feelings. The music – and it always reveals the truth in good operas – no doubt tells us that in the last scene he is honest, but a feeling of ‘Schadenfreude’ always creeps in. To many opera lovers, the central character is no doubt Tatiana, and perhaps the work should be renamed after her, just as in Germany, in olden times, Faust was often called Margarethe.

The Oslo production, directed by Czech Jakub Korcak, presents Onegin as a stern, unsmiling character. Whether this is due to the instructions – in my opinion it is – or to the fact that Vasily Ladyuk is rather reserved in himself – as some visitors I overheard thought, we do not know. In any case, it was a consistent reading, that also made Valeria Stenkina’s warm and sensitive Tatiana stand out even more as a loveable character. Lensky, though weak at heart, here is an uncommonly powerful individual, at least partly thanks to the fact that Henrik Engelsviken is far taller than the average tenor, and also that he has a rather heroic voice, allowing him to sing Manrico and Cavaradossi. Among the other singers Tone Kummervold was a vivid, glittering and charming Olga, contrasting with the rather melancholy Tatiana. Tone Kruse’s caring but humorous Filipyevna stole the show at her every appearance and Taras Shtonda was a noble and warm but formally stiff Prince Gremin, as could be expected from an aristocrat and soldier.

What was apparent from the outset was that this was to be a beautiful, realistic and sober production, mild pastel colours dominating. The opening scene with the four women in front of the house - the sisters in airy white, Tatiana on the balcony, Olga on the ground on a tricycle - created the atmosphere of a true family idyll. It was like an impressionist painting or the idyllic slow-motion scenes in the 1960s movie Elvira Madigan. The party scene at Tatiana’s name-day celebrations was lively but not overloaded with luxury and glaring colours, as was also the case at the ball at Gremin’s palace. The first two scenes used the same building, just moved a few yards to the left in the second scene, to put the bedroom in focus. The most pared down scene of all was the duel scene, with the duellists in the foreground and the assistants as silhouettes in the background; otherwise the stage was empty. When Lenski was dead, Onegin threw himself over the dead body in desperation. A black curtain, like a mourning crape, fell down and hid the bodies.

When I say that Onegin was rather reserved, it also implies that the direction cooled down feelings in general. The heart-on-the-sleeve emotions that can make this opera over-sentimental were largely toned down, although strong emotions were not absent. Rather, the big gestures and violent histrionics had been de-romanticized. It was like watching the proceedings through a classicist soft-lens – and the effect was healthy. This opera doesn’t need to have the text in italics and with keywords underlined. It works perfectly well unadulterated.

The dances are central in this opera, well integrated into the plot and showing that dance was a natural part in the daily life: for the peasants in the first scene, celebrating the harvest; for the lesser nobility in the name-day feast; for the aristocrats at Gremin’s house. The choreography was elegant, visually attractive and Monsieur Triquet’s congratulation song was great fun but also held within a tasteful frame: no parodic farce and over-acting.

With two Russians (Tatiana and Onegin) and a Ukranian (Gremin) in the cast, we were offered a great deal of authentic singing but also, in the case of Tatiana, traces of the Slavonic hardness of tone that once was a characteristic of the singing from Eastern Europe. Valeria Stenkina’s variant of this was miles away from the Slavonic wobble one can hear on some recordings from the 50s and 60s – even later – and she was also able to lighten the tone admirably, not least in the letter scene. Hers was, both scenically and vocally, a touching portrait of Tatiana, although I will not easily forget Maria Fontosh (also born Russian) in the Stockholm production some years ago. Young Tone Kummervold – who started her Onegin career a couple of years ago by singing old Filipyevna at outdoor performances with Den Nye Opera at Bergenhus Festning – complemented her ravishing stage appearance as Olga with confident singing, and Ingebjørg Kosmo and Tone Kruse were good as the older women.

Vasily Ladyuk, like Ms Stenkina, has appeared at the Metropolitan Opera in New York and also at La Scala and La Fenice in Venice. He has a strong, beautiful voice and sang with great intensity in his key scenes, most memorably perhaps at the end of the penultimate scene, at Gremin’s palace, when his feelings for Tatiana blaze up. Henrik Engelsviken was a pleasant surprise with his rather Italianate lirico-spinto voice, which he employed with taste and a great deal of brilliance. His final aria, before the duel, was powerfully sung with golden tone but also with a touching simplicity in the concluding phrases, where he scaled down beautifully.

I have been greatly impressed by Taras Shtonda on several recordings but this was the first time I heard him in the flesh. His singing in Gremin’s aria, possibly my favourite number from this opera, confirmed that he is one of the best basses in this kind of repertoire. When he opened up and let his big, rounded voice fill the house, the goose-pimples were not far away and when he sang softly and inwardly, which a sensitive singer should do most of the time in this aria, he conveyed much wisdom and humanism.  Kjell Magnus Sandve was an expressive but suitably restrained Triquet – a splendid actor.

Eivind Gullberg Jensen, one in a long row of outstanding Scandinavian conductors trained by Jorma Panula, already has a busy international career and has received rave reviews wherever he has appeared. This Eugene Onegin was marked by the same sense of unity as his Rusalka a year and a half ago. Flexible tempos within a relatively steady pulse allowed the soloists to make the most of their roles, and the purely orchestral and choral numbers were true highlights.

This new Eugene Onegin, premiered on 11 December 2010, is a feather in the hat for all involved and opera lovers should book immediately. It is running until the end of January.

Göran Forsling