The Guardian
the production places as much emphasis on Onegin's unravelling friendship with Lensky as it does on his conflicted feelings for Tatyana. This may be because the performances are exceptionally strong. Onegin is played by Dmitri Hvorostovsky, Lensky by Rolando Villazon. Hvorostovsky, a supercilious smirk on his face, is very much the caddish practical joker, toying with people's emotions until his games swirl out of control. Villazon is fragile and troubled, naively trusting in his fellow human beings, only to be destroyed by his eventual understanding of their inherent cruelty.Roocroft isn't quite in their league. There are plenty of insights, above all in the final scenes where she confronts Onegin with bitter anger as well as regret, though her voice has now has a mature quality that doesn't make her depiction of the younger Tatyana entirely credible. Conductor Philippe Jordan, meanwhile, coaxes sounds of subtle sadness from the pit. Musically much of it is very beautiful but, as a totality, it fails to cohere.
The Independent didn't like it:
I cannot remember when this opera was last quite so dominated by a Lensky and Olga. Nino Surguladze's engaging Olga is established early on as a tomboy with irresistible feminine charms. The contralto colour of the voice is beguiling, but as ever it's the belief that sweeps you along on her every word and gesture. The same is true of Rolando Villazon's Lensky; the ardour, the intensity, of the delivery is thrilling. His calling for Olga in the final minutes of his life was the highlight of the evening.
Even if you dont get it and some of the allusions are just a little too oblique you come away buoyed by the sheer wealth of subtext they find beneath the familiar surface... this is far more than a concept production. (Pimlott's) greatest achievement is to draw performances of such conviction and detail from his cast. There can be few more practised Onegins than Dmitri Hvorostovsky, but here he remakes the character afresh. Partly its the appearance: smiling in a brown wig for his early scenes with Tatyana, the Siberian baritone is almost unrecognisable, but he is all too real as the superfluous man who smiles politely before behaving badly. His performance shows just how far he has developed as an actor, while radiating the polished beauty of Tchaikovskys vocal lines. Rolando Villazón, in his debut as Lensky, makes the perfect counterpart, finding a thrilling ardour and open- hearted temperament in the role...Amanda Roocroft..rewards us with a Tatyana who may be a shade mature for the country girl of the first two acts, and not exactly touching in the letter scene the production leaves her stranded in too much space but she comes into her own in the finale.
After an Act I as lively as washed-up seaweed, the Royal Operas new staging of Onegin mustered a few late flickers of drama. But oh dear, what a sedate first hour! In the title-role Dmitri Hvorostovsky sang with customary suavity . . . and acted with customary impassivity. A broom might have been livelier. Amanda Roocroft (Tatiana) couldnt be faulted for effort. But she never hit the consistent vocal form of her mesmerising Tatiana two seasons ago. And Steven Pimlotts production took ages to ignite. True, Tchaikovsky wanted his Pushkin opera to be staged with rustic simplicity. But not inertnessWhat galvanised proceedings were three outstanding supporting performances. As Lensky, the much-vaunted young Mexican Rolando Villazón took a while to get his exciting tenor flowing, but he was compelling in his pre-duel soliloquy. Pity he lost the duel.
I was also impressed by the Georgian mezzo Nino Surguladze (Olga): sumptuous tone, and her face was the liveliest thing on stage. And the veteran bass Eric Halfvarson stole the show with Gremins touching hymn to late-flowering love.
Sunday Times - that was me in Row M...
The saving grace of the evening is the musical performance which, although not first rate, was never less than competent and managed occasionally to be outstanding. The latter category certainly describes the riveting singing and acting of the young Mexican tenor Rolando Villazón as Lensky. Consistently excellent from his first entrance, Villazón was captivating as the impetuous young lover... his aria just before his death could scarce have carried more poignancy.
You know, I feel sorry for the professional critics. They get free seats in the best part of the house on opening night, and do not feel that their evening is worth it unless they can carp and criticise like a load of misery guts. I think they actually collude. Whereas us bloggers, who have to work for a living to afford our tickets in less favourable parts of the house, not always on First Night. Well, we get to enjoy ourselves. Ya boo sucks.
