By Sophie
Link: https://play.wiener-staatsoper.at/event/ee614b25-8435-479b-baab-21b887943915/play
Available until: 10th May at about 6pm
It is often said that the modern world is cruel and there is certainly a great deal of truth in that. But the world has always been cruel to people who are perceived as being unlike everyone else.
The difference now is that our lives are so public, it is harder even for the so-called normal people to hide the moments when they are less than perfect. Anyone can become the butt of the very next joke and many people seek out the relative safety of laughing along with the crowd.
Wiener Staatsoper’s production of Eugen Onegin (or Eugene to those of us living in Britain, though he’s actually addressed as Yevgeny) is not set in the present day, but it illustrates very strongly the cruelty of the world and the advantages in being part of a crowd. I have seen this opera on a number of occasions and it is one of my favourites, but the crowd mentality has never been so obvious as in Dmitri Tcherniakov’s production.
Almost all the scenes take place publicly, at dinner parties, in one dining room or another. Dmitri Tcherniakov is also the set designer and there is a contrast between the attractive dining room belonging to the Larins and the far more elegant one at the Gremins’ home. The large tables take up a lot of space and this results in a very crowded stage – unexpectedly so, given that this production was filmed during the pandemic – but the crowd seems to be something which this production particularly wants to emphasise: if you are not part of the crowd, you are in trouble.
Even the opening scene, which usually shows Olga cavorting happily with the peasants while Tatyana reads a book, is now a public party. The opening duet for Tatyana and Olga becomes a performance for Madame Larina’s friends: an excruciating moment for the chronically shy Tatyana. Lensky’s romantic declaration of his love for Olga is public; so is the first meeting between Tatyana and Onegin. Tatyana is afforded some privacy for her Letter Scene (though it takes place in the dining room, rather than in her bedroom) and Onegin shows rare kindness in responding to her letter with a private meeting, but the duel takes place in front of the assembled guests from the night before.
Wherever there is a crowd, there is cruelty. Madame Larina’s guests seem amused by Tatyana’s social awkwardness and later, the crowd is several times overcome with mirth in some of the saddest and most dramatic scenes.
It could have spoiled a beautiful and romantic (if extremely tragic) story, but it didn’t because it felt so believable and real. It actually heightened the sadness because the characters being ridiculed are so alone and misunderstood.
Tomáš Hanus and the Orchestra of the Wiener Staatsoper perhaps suffer the most from this interpretation as the stage is almost never empty, but Tchaikovsky's music is always sublime and the passion doesn’t seem at odds with the nastiness onstage.
Many will say that watching theatre online is not the same as being in a theatre and of course it isn’t. The experiences are undeniably different. But this production is particularly suited to the digital medium because of the incredible acting. Tatyana’s distress in Act 2, Olga’s complete shock in her final appearance and particularly Johanna Mertinz’s Old Lady Guest, who does nothing but watch proceedings but does so memorably, could have been missed altogether by anyone who isn’t sitting close to the stage. This digital production ensures we don’t miss any of the good bits.
Nicole Carr portrays Tatyana’s awkwardness and social anxiety brilliantly in a very convincing, sincere and sensitive performance. Those ghouls her mum is friends with might laugh at her, but it’s not designed as comedy and doesn’t come across in that way. Her gorgeous, soaring soprano gives the production some much-needed moments of beauty and ensures she is heard over the baying mob.
Andrѐ Schuen’s Onegin is quite frankly not worth the trouble, but it’s an excellent portrayal. He struts and glowers around the place and positively lectures Tatyana. He’s a cruel man, but he quite clearly does have a poise which marks him out as being different from the others – not to mention a rich, polished baritone which sounds lovely no matter how disrespectful he’s being - and Tatyana’s attraction for him perhaps isn’t completely ridiculous.
Bogdan Volkov’s Lensky, far from being the usual romantic admirer of Olga, is something of a figure of fun in this production. His role is expanded so he sings the aria which usually belongs to M. Triquet (though this gentleman is still mentioned in the libretto) and it is… quite something, though his singing is absolutely gorgeous, even when he’s… no, you’ll have to watch it and see. He is a lovely man and that, according to the society he lives in, is probably a large part of the problem.
The role of Olga has also been slightly expanded so she appears in another scene. Anna Goryachova proves that the lowest female register can sound just as gorgeous as any soprano and it’s fascinating to watch Olga change throughout the opera. Her initial vivaciousness conceals another side to her character, which is sometimes hinted at but not usually expressed this strongly. Her final appearance, though she doesn’t sing a note (she’s not usually there), is sensational.
Dimitry Ivashchenko is a majestic Gremin in both manner and voice and a rather more dominant presence than usual. Larissa Diadkova and Dan Paul Dumitrescu provides some comedy we can actually enjoy as Filipjewna and Saretzki, while Helene Schneiderman’s very interesting Madame Larina provides a few clues as to why neither of her daughters seems to know how to behave in public.
It’s difficult to watch at times because of the suffering
of some of the characters, but this interpretation of Eugen Onegin
really is brilliant.
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