Gertsamtkunstwerk

Eugene Onegin

It's now a while since I went to see this. I did a brief review after my first attendance, and intended to do more, which was rather stymied by Gerald Finley being not too well on the second night that I went.

In any case I wanted to say more than just an appraisal of the singers. However, I do think that Gerald was masterful. Vocally, on the first occasion only; dramatically on both occasions. He is a stupendous acting singer, and having now seen him in two different productions he is, for me, the definitive Eugene Onegin. Not that I'm knocking Dmitri Hvorostovsky, far from it, but I do find that Dmitri in character is less compelling than Dmitri in concert.

I actually think that Eugene Onegin is a work of something approaching genius. The more I get to know it, the more I think that it would be an ideal introduction to opera for just about anybody. It has some amazing tunes in it, although conversely, there is nothing that I take away as an earworm, and, apart from Kuda, kuda, there is no tune that I conjure up at will.

The more I see it, the more the story affects me. A reflex action would be express frustration at the futility of the duel. Have a disagreement with your best mate, and the only way to resolve it is pistols at dawn. I am afraid it strikes at immature macho posturing.

Some people say that the opera should be called Tatiana. I am not convinced*, but I can see the thrust of the argument. In Act I, Tatiana is a dreamy, bookish teenager, easily enraptured by a romantic hero who rides into town in a pair of white breeches. By the end, she is expressing her happiness at being married to Prince Gremin, who is considerably older and not especially dashing or glamorous. I happen to find that very romantic and simultaneously realistic. It's okay to have your dreams and romantic notions when you are young, but as you mature you throw off such superficial notions. Indeed, that it was both Mother and Nurse tried to impress upon Tatiana in the early act.

I think that Gremin's aria is one of the most romantic in all of opera (special praise to Hans Peter Konig in this production). It is enduringly simple, and reflects that, although he maybe called 'Prince', he is an uncomplicated and sincere man, and I believe that Tatiana's marriage with him is enduringly happy because of this. Perhaps I am betraying my essential bourgeois nature, perhaps I ought to be making more of a case for dashing, Romantic, fucked-up up Onegin.

If the opera is about how Tatiana grows up and changes, it is even more about how Onegin fails to do. Above all, it's about him as an outsider. It is easy to be attracted to such an exotic figure if they are fictional, but throughout, he displays his own emotional autism. Some people think that at the end, he finally grows up when he realises that Tatiana won't have him, but I don't think he does. Intellectually, he realises that he was a fool to have turned her down way back then, but I don't think he fully grasps why Tatiana makes a positive choice to be with Gremin.

I think the music is unbelievably gorgeous. I find it difficult to identify my favourite piece, but I think the set pieces for the chorus are rather special. It would be wrong to ignore Tatiana's Letter Scene, a tour de force for the soprano in question. I love Lensky's aria and Gremin's aria, too. Which leaves us with Onegin himself. Bizarrely, I can't name an outstanding piece of music from him, but he is so dominant throughout it takes a special singer to do it justice.

Regarding the production, I have mixed feelings about it. I reject some of the criticism as ill-founded. For example, some people object that the dance for Tatiana's nameday is held in cramped provincial surroundings, well, it should be. I like the skating party for the Act III Polonnaise. Again, people have criticised it for its lack of authenticity. I can't say I am bothered by a slavish adherence to setting. It doesn't change the linear narrative and it looks good. I don't know for a fact whether the aristocracy of St Petersburg would actually have organised such a party at such a time, but I am prepared to accept is a possibility.

What I was more aware of in seeing it his year than two years ago was a fundamental contradiction. The programme notes discussed the essential intimacy of the work, saying that Tchaikovsky wanted to break away from the then current fashion of grandly staged spectaculars, and create what was essentially a domestic drama between ordinary characters. If it wasn't for that programme note, I probbaly wouldn't have spotted the essential absence of intimacy. Even when the famous Covent Garden box was utilised  - for Tatiana's bedroom and for Gremlin's library - it ultimately became necessary to break out of the box in order fully to play the drama.

My abiding memory, at least of excursion 1, will be Gerald Finley's total portrayal of the character. I can't adequately describe the overall effect. It's not just that I love his voice, it's not just that I recognise a fine musician who seems to have an instinctive understanding of how to portray the music. He was inside the character, portraying the change from a rather aloof yet impetuous young man to one more worldly and experienced and yet still not comfortable in human relations. I don't know what it is he does, I couldn't really single out any particular example of how he used this device or move din such a way in order to illustrate a point. I suppose that's what is called acting!

I am already looking forward to seeing him as Dr Atomic next Spring at ENO, and I will also got to Die Tote Stadt at ROH, although, at this stage, not knowing the opera, I can't really feel very enthusiastic, except for him. Hopefully, I will remedy that in the interim.

Here are my rather pathetic curtain call photos.

      

If you want a host of decent photos, look here

* obviously, in my world, it would be called Vladimir Lensky

Eugene O'Sicknote

I should have blogged this last night, but I got home to find we had visitors, and as they had waited up for me to come home it would have been very rude to have gone straight onto the computer. When I got up this morning, I fired up the PC, then stood up to get something, and found that my place in the PC chair was taken by a succession of people.

I have more thoughts to write on Eugene Onegin the opera at a later stage - tomorrow? - but just for now, I need to record that Gerald Finley was not well last night. Before it began, Elaine Padmore appeared on stage to groans; when she said "Gerald Finley..." there were sighs. She explained that he had a bronchial infection but would sing.

It's a difficult one. Singers, just like ordinary mortals, are affected by whatever infections are flying around. Most of us survive by going into work and infecting our colleagues punctuating meetings with hacking and dashes for water. For singers, a cold-cough type illness is worse than an IT network crash is for an auditor. With auditors, the work can always be done tomorrow. For singers, the show must go on, with or without them. And always the debate rages - should they sing when under-the-weather. There is no simple answer.

Gerald chose to sing, and in retrospect it probably wasn't a wise decision. But if he had cancelled, people, including me, would have been disappointed, and questioned "Couldn't he have at least tried?" And he did at least try. However, whenever called onto sing out at length, he didn't sound good. He didn't sound bad - he has such a gorgeous voice that it would take more than a mere bronchial infection for that to happen. but at key times - after he had received Tatyana's letter and after the years-later encounter with Tatyana and her now husband Gremin - he sounded phlegmy and starined, and he cracked in that Act III arioso.

As we prepared for the final Scene I saw a stagehand bring something unfamiliar onto the stage and leave it at the very edge of the stage next to the wings. Through my binoculars it looked like a music stand and instinctively I knew what was happening. I did wonder that maybe it was the last performance in the run (it isn't) and there was going to be something (I don't know what, maybe a long-serving orchestra or chorus member retiring) afterwards, but I thought - they wouldn't let any post-performance shenanigans intrude into the actual procedings.

The Final Scene starts with Tatyana in Gremin's library. Eugene Onegin - Gerald Finley - walks on. And a man in dark mufti walks and places a score on the music stand. To cut a long story short, the mystery man, whoever he was, sang from the score in the wings whilst Gerald did the acting. And much as I love Gerald (and I do!) the stand-in sounded a lot better.

I don't know who the stand-in was. I don't think he was a Young Artist, because he doesn't look like any of them, and as far as I can gather from the ROH site, none of them is covering Eugene Onegin. And there is nothing on the ROH site to indicate who it was. He sounded bloody good though, even though he looked absolutely trembling with nerves through my binoculars.

I suspect from the fact that the understudy sang from the wings, from a score, that Gerald went on and performed in circumstances that if there had been a thoroughly rehearsed cover in the vicinity of the opera house (paging Mr Hvorostovsky, paging Mr Hvorostovsky), he wouldn't have done. I never criticise singers for being ill, anyway, and I certainly wouldn't criticise one for what seemed in retrospect to be a worng call when I don't fully know the circumstances. All I can say is that I am very pleased I saw it last Monday when Gerald was in stupendous vocal form. This evening he was still superb in his acting and character portrayal, but he was certainly not at his vocal peak. I am tempted to go and see it again. At the moment, there are tickets left at the end of the run, but I would wish to ensure that he is fully recovered - by which time they would have sold out!

Eugene Onegin

I went! It was a triumph. I heard people say Five Stars. I will do a more detailed review after I have been again. I love the opera anyway, I really like the production, even though there are a few minor details that irritate me slightly in their poor logic. The orchestra was fine, perhaps more under-stated than I would like, but subtle and tuneful. Piotr Beczala was fine as Lensky. Not enough to erase memories of Rolando from my mind (look at me, harking back to the Golden Age of 2006!) but definitely worthy. Hibla Gerzmava making her Covent Garden debut, as Tatyana was wonderful. I was chatting afterwards with a Russian woman who commented that Hibla's acting was a bit a vulgar, but agreed that she sang marvellously, although not as good as Marina Poplavskaya. Gorgeous voice, and moved naturally around stage, if not necessarily brimming over with charisma.

And Gerald Finley was just fabulous. What a masterful performance, moving from haughty in the first act to arrogant in the second to demented in the third. And always, vocally, so elegant. I asked the Russian woman how Gerald's pronunciation was and she said it was very good - and she wasn't just being polite because she mentioned that a couple of the smaller roles didn't have good Russian pronunciation.

I am so glad I booked to see this twice, because I thought I liked it before, and now I just adore it.

And hello to Janet and Janet's Mum who were sitting just in front of me - Janet runs A site dedicated to Gerald Finley.

Eugene Onegin

I'm going tonight and again next Thursday. A friend was there on Saturday and raving about Gerald Finley,which should be no surprise to anyone who saw him in ENO's production about three years ago.

Various 'First night' reviews are in - Music Criticism, with links to interviews with Finley, Poplavskaya and Beczala

Eugene Onegin at Covent Garden - the forecast is cold and wet

I have often thought about making a point of going to opening nights in order to be hot off the presses with a review. I recall some pretentious idiot on the Opera-L idiot list stating that he found it important to attend first night and/or the one that gets broadcast because it is more 'historically accurate'. I'm afraid that I tend to book performances that fit in with my diary. And I'm not convinced that the First Night sees the cast at their best (although,frankly, when there are only, say, six or eight performances, it's not good enough to be treating one - however subconsciously - as a glorified dress rehearsal).

Evgeny Onegin

Or, as it seems to be called in the Anglosphere, Eugene Onegin. What's it known as in Germany, France etc?

I can't find any recommendations for a DVD of this opera. What I  have is what comes with the Del Prado partworks series and is functional. But I would urge anybody looking for a DVD of this opera to wait until (if...?) the New York Met makes a DVD of this season's live transmissions to cinemas'. If for nothing else, I think it is essential to get Dmitri Hvorostovsky in the title role, especially now he is reported to be bore dof it - oh, the irony!  It's a shame that ROH didn't record last season's production, also with Dima. In my opinion, the Met's Renée Fleming outshone Amanda Roocroft as Tatiana, but ROH's Rolando Villazón was a degree of magnitude better than Ramon Vargas. Both productions had their attractions, on balance, although the ROH's was, at times, gorgeous (thanks to the late Stephen Pimlott) but I would take the Met's spectacularly minimalist and un-Met-trash-like Robert Carsen production. Also, at ROH, Phillipe Jordan waggled the stick splendidly for one so young and drop-dead gorgeous, but one feels that he would not be slighted by mention that the Met had Valery Gergiev thoroughly at home in his repertoire.

This is written by Tchaikovsky. After the Tchaikovsky season on Radio 3, some newspaper johnny commented that because of Tchaik's great writing of orchestral works - symphonies and concerti - people forget his other works. I couldn't take that seriously. Call me Cheshire Girl, but surely, most people who know something about music, when prompted with "Tchaikovsky" will first say "1812" and follow up swiftly with Swan Lake/Sleeping Beauty/Nutcracker.  But I will happily concede that people do forget he wrote operas. I know only this, and Pikovaya Dama  (Queen of Spades). Maid of Orleans and Iolanta are known by the cognescenti. Not me. Of the two, I think Pikovaya Dama is great, whereas Evgeny Onegin is merely nearly-great.

I have played this DVD about four times now - and I went to the cinema to see the live broadcast in February, as well as seeing it live twice last year and once the year before. And each time I hear it, I love the music more and more. I'm inclined to think that it doesn't get any better than on this DVD. Gennady Rodhezensky is the conductor; I know there are people who rave about him, and I can hear why. I won't say too much about the singers, because they were terribly young then. It dates from nearly a decade ago, and they're still young now, at least the ones I'm familiar with. Suffice to say that although none reaches out and grabs me, there's none that makes me cringe. Clearly some are better than others, but why labour the point?

It struck me that this would be a perfect opera to put on the list of 'ideal for newcomers'. Funny that it doesn't tend to feature. Because it is packed full of great tunes, beautifully orchestrated. Particularly considering that none of the singers is a stand-out, it's enough to wallow and enjoy. I especially like the dance music at the start of Acts II and III (Tchaikovsky wrote amazing dance music? Who would have known!). I also adore Kuda kuda, a great great tenor show-piece aria, and Prince Gremin's is fabulous for the bass. But there's not one passage that isn't really quite beautiful. I have to confess that I often find Tatiana's letter scene drags, but I know that's me, and I also know it is vital for the dramaturgy and the character insight to have this besotted teenager angsting away in her bedroom writing this letter of love to Onegin, who receives it, and rejects her.

The story roles on; it's Tatiana's name-day party, Onegin dances with Olga, her sister, so Lensky challenges him to a duel, which of course, he accepts, adding two more to the total of Stupid Men in Opera. Onegin kills Lensky, his best friend, and wanders the world for years. He returns and attends a party given by a distant cousin, Gremin, who is now married to Tatiana. Later he tells Tatiana that he loves her, but she sends him away with a flea in his ear.

Queen of Spades at Covent Garden

By Tchaikovsky.

I've left it far too late to give a fresh review of this.

Nice music. Decent cast. Crap production.

I saw it twice in November.

It's one of those operas that I sort of know but not very well. It's a great story, libretto by Modest Tchaikovsky, based on a Pushkin novel

tragic obsession to follow the burgeoning romance between a Russian officer and a young woman of higher class, through to his insanity and their suicides. As the drama slips increasingly towards desperation and despair, the score depicts the shifting moods through such contrasts as Prince Yeletsky's beautiful declaration of love to Liza and the haunted encounter between the mysterious Countess and Gherman, who blindly pursues her supernatural - and fatal - secret of the 'three cards'

To be honest, a great deal of parts with very little to do. Or is it just that the production does its best to minimise their importance. It was a pretty mediocre production. I didn't like the sets at all: the right side of the stage was a double-decker row of theatre boxes leaning backwards, and the back and the left of the stage was like windows, doors and so on. All in off-white. There wasn't much else of the set before the interval; whilst we were intervalling, they brought in a dirty big piece of polystyrene to look like a mountain of snow. It was rubbish, and they had split Act 2 in half to bring on the ski-slope. I thought the costumes were pretty awful. I suppose Ghermann's was okay for the character, and Prince Yeletsky's was gorgeous, but the rest were dire. And the personenregie was really not very good. Although Ghermann did a lot of pacing around being broody and depressed.

I suppose when you think of Tchaikovsky, you tend to think of those nice ballet pieces like Swan Lake, Sleeping Beauty and Nutcracker, or maybe the 1812 overture. So if that's what you think this is about, you're in for a bit of a surprise. That having been said, the prelude to the Third Act is rather reminiscent of 1812. And then there is the first scene of Act II, which is a long - overlong - ball at Prince Yeletzky's house, where Tchaikovsky throws in some music deliberately reminiscent of Mozart. And then there is a ridiculous pastorale which in all honesty ought to be cut, even though it did produce some good performances. It just did nothing for the dramaturgy.

A lot of the music coming from the orchestra is really powerful stuff. I don't think the orchestra was on particularly good form on either evening I was there. Someone there on another night said that it is about time that the ROH sorted out new principal cello and horn. I could put up with the cello but I agree the horn has to go. And in general, I was thinking that it's nice music, rather than nicely played.

The story is engrossing and compelling. A psychological examination of how one character falls apart because of his obsession in knowing the secret of the three cards. The countess holds the secret. she's told her husband and her her lover, and the third man to whom she tells the secret, who is driven by love, will be the cause of her death. Cut a long story short - here's the synopsis - there is no secret. It's random, and he stakes his entire fortune on the three cards - troika, semyorka, tuz. These gradually take over as an idée fixe from tri karti.

There are a few good arias in this, although only one that really stands out as an aria Ja vas lyublyu, or the Prince's aria, which is what makes this relatively lesser role actually a star role. On my first attendance I was not overly impressed with my lovely Gerald; on the second hearing, even though I still think it lies a bit too high in his range, he did sound lovely. I did ask him why he was doing this role; he protested it was a lovely role. I pointed out that it's not really a star part, and he said you can't be a star all the time. Sorry, Gerald, I love you to pieces and I want you to be the star all the time...

But it is so overwhelmingly a Tenor's opera and Vladimir Galouzine was stupendous. A strange voice. Robin Leggate commented that he is one of the three loudest singers he has heard in thirty years at Covent Garden. To be honest, I think he only does loud. Not a great deal of beauty in the voice, plenty of steel. And stamina. He moved well on stage, elegantly, sparingly, depressingly. And looked good, too.

This doesn't seem like a particularly positive review, but I did enjoy it. Tchaik was just a bit of a genius.

Eugene Onegin links

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.

Financial Times

Even if you don’t “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 it’s 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 Tchaikovsky’s 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.

The Times

After an Act I as lively as washed-up seaweed, the Royal Opera’s 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) couldn’t be faulted for effort. But she never hit the consistent vocal form of her mesmerising Tatiana two seasons ago. And Steven Pimlott’s production took ages to ignite. True, Tchaikovsky wanted his Pushkin opera to be staged with rustic simplicity. But not inertness

What 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 Gremin’s touching hymn to late-flowering love.

The Stage

Sunday Times - that was me in Row M...

Music OMH

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.

Eugene Onegin

This enticed me to the Royal Opera House on Wednesday evening. I have previously written at some length about the production in the Dress Rehearsal. It was the first time I had attended a Dress and was cautious about pronouncing on the musical performance. In the light of Wednesday's performance I am glad that I didn't, and the reservations I carried after the Dress are now irrelevant.

I also have to say that my review is being written in the context of attending a dire "Sir John in Love" at the Coliseum last night. If the order of performances had been reversed, I would probably have enjoyed Sir John more than I did and got even more enjoyment from Eugene Onegin. Ah well, such is life.

The story is taken from Pushkin's novel in verse and is a fairly straightforward story. Two sisters, Tatiana and Olga. Olga is engaged to Lensky. He brings his friend Onegin to visit and Tatiana falls for him. She writes a letter telling of her love. He spurns her, saying he's not the marrying type and their love can only be that of brother and sister (this is where it is interpreted as being semi-autobiographical for Tchaikovsky and the seed of the gay subtext).

At a ball Onegin dances with Olga; Lensky challenges him to a duel, which takes place and Onegin shoots Lensky. A few years later after travelling abroad, Onegin returns to a chance encounter with Tatiana now married to his distant cousin, and he realises the strength of his feelings. But too late.

All over I thought that it was a splendid performance. For the most part my attention did not wander, except when grabbed, for example by the ghastly cow sat next to me who thought it would enhance my enjoyment if she tunelessly hummed along. This was when she wasn't condemning the friezes as dreadful. I wanted to know why they were dreadful. Eg in the case of the naked man frieze, was it the nakedness that upset her, or the lack of naughty bits. Or was it because it  - purposely - obscured the action on stage. Everybody's entitled to an opinion but it would help, when inflicting them on me, to expand on the justification. Otherwise, it just sounds like the kneejerk reaction of a posh strangulated cow.

I am not intimate with the opera so I was in no position to find tiny flaws at which to nitpick, as I inevitably do with a more familiar work. Not necessarily to the aid of enjoyment! It's Tchaikovsky, beautiful tunes and lovely orchestration. I thought the orchestra played well without necessarily being on fire. The first night reviews suggested that the conducting was restrained and to a large extent I agree. I had hopes of a more lush richer sound, such as I experienced at ENO last year or in the DVD I have in my possession.

Some people have commented on the Russian diction - Dmitri Hvorostovsky was the only native speaker in the cast - but I can't comment because Russian is entirely foreign to me. And it's not just about pronunciation - there are styles of musical phrasing, and, as a friend pointed out dramatic gestures. But I don't have that understanding.

I thought all the principals were splendid in different ways. I find Dimitri Hvorostovsky an enigma. I have never found his voice to be less than technically superb and very beautiful, although inexplicably he does not hit my 'B-spot'. He is undoubtedly one of the most gifted and thoughtful artists I have seen. Yet, having seen him in the past year in Rigoletto, Ballo and now this, I feel that his acting and projection was most compelling in his Barbican concert. Arguably, Onegin is a cold person until Act 3, but even so, I have to file Dima under "Superb singer, indifferent actor."

I was a lot more impressed by Amanda Roocroft (a fine Lancastrian singer) than I expected. I can't say I care for her voice. I have a love-hate attitude to sopranos. Any hint of squall or wobble become magnified in my mind, whereas I tend to be more forgiving to other voice-types. Certainly she has the chops musically and acted convincingly. But I did find the letter scene to be the only bit where time dragged. It must be fiendishly difficult, basically a monologue, not really an aria, with the stage to herself for a protracted length of time. And it was not the most successful of stagings. Obviously there is little that can really be done to add drama to a teenager pining in her bedroom, unless it was an updated production with teenager drafting her letter on MySpace, but I do not think it was helped that the bedroom was the obligatory ROH box which served to muffle her voice on occasion. Perhaps a bit of OTT diva-ish furniture chewing might have worked...! But she was splendid in the Final Act duet with Onegin, and overall was entirely convincing in the role.

Nina Surguladze as Olga sang with a beautiful voice. I was not especially struck by the character, but she was perfectly fine.

Some of the lesser roles were excellent. None of the comprimario roles were poor and some were excellent. Ryland Davies acted the role of M. Triquet excellently, although his voice ws somewhat strained. But perhpas that was the point. Robert Gleadow, in yet another small role as Zaretsky (Lensky's second in the duel) demonstrated once again that he really is one to watch. He's one of the ROH Young Artists and although only currently playing small roles - in Barbiere, Macbeth and now this -  I believe he has a fine voice and that certain je ne sais quoi of reaching beyond the footlights.

Eric Halfvarson was superb as Prince Gremin. He only features in the first part of the last act, and has one aria, but for a small part it has to be well cast. I saw him five times last July as Sparafucile and Hunding; in both Rigoletto and Die Walkure he absolutely delivered the goods, and he did so again tonight, and then some. I have said before that I do have a slight aural problem with basses, finding it almost impossible to hear beauty in their range. But this was something special and was enthusiastically appreciated by the house.

Oh, and Lensky. Yeah, not bad! Regular readers - and occasional readers (Hola Rolando!) - will know that I adore Rolando Villazón. Adoration brings high expectations, and, following the Dress I had my anxieties. These were not entirely dispelled in the first act, but I have to say that I am nit-picking (to me, he sounded a little bit nasally).  In Act II Scene 1 he was superb, and he just got better in Scene 2. "Kuda, kuda", aka Lensky's aria, is an amazing aria. The rest of the role of Lensky is very much as support to Onegin and Tatiana, certainly dramatically, but that aria means that the part has to be cast with a first-rate singer. It has a long orchestral introduction. What was extraordinary was that the orchestra was accompanied by the sound of the majority of an audience of over 2,000 clearing their throats. Not because "This is a quiet bit, doesn't matter if I interrupt" but in expectation. When he began singing, I heard a pin drop. Beautiful. Vocally, musically and in depicting the anguish that Lensky was feeling. When he finished, the audience hovered in awestruck animation for a moment which the old bag sitting next to me broke with premature applause.

Overall, it's a beautiful opera. As well as the two arias, for Lensky and Gremin, the highlights musically were the ball scene in Act II and the skating party in Act III, which perhaps serve to remind that although Tchaikovsky is regarded - in Western Europe, at any rate - as a second tier opera composer no one in the history of music can come near him in writing dance music. I suppose I would have wanted a bit more light and oomph from the orchestra: I think in these scenes they were decidedly second best to ENO last year.

Prior informed by the Dress I was prepared to give it a solid B, but after the performance I would go for an A- or Four Stars. Costumes get A++, thanks presumably to Antony McDonald.

Sorry the photos are so grainy - I was sitting in Row M of the Amphitheatre. My camera is good, but not that good!

Eugene Onegin (Dress Rehearsal)

Not bad for £4!

by Pyotr Il'yich Tchaikovsky, at the Royal Opera House. Cast etc in the Extended Entry. Synopsis

Convention states that one does not comment, critically or complimentarily, on the performance of a Dress Rehearsal, because it's a working rehearsal and,f or example, singers may not sing out.

A new production, with new sets, new costumes and new wigs.

Ah yes, wig. Dmitri Hvorostovsky wore a black wig in the first two acts, a bit of a shock when one is expecting to see that distinctive silver mane. But it had come off by Act 3, to signify his aging.

Costumes. The leading men's' costumes were wonderful. Most noticeable was that the trousers - sort of lycra breeches, Mr Darcy-style, were tight. Very tight. But no tighter than they had to be. Both our leading chaps have fine figures and looked delightful in these figure-hugging trousers. We would advise them to go easy on pies, chocolate and beer for the duration of the run. We considered many fine singers who would not look good in such tight trousers. In the first Act Rolando's were beige; in Act 2 for the ball and the duet he changed into light blue velour breeches. Very fetching.

I know I am supposed to notice the Ladies' dresses a bit more than I do. Amanda Roocroft's outfits after she married Prince Gremin were splendid. I was torn between between the stylish black coat with double-breasted jewelled buttons and snazzy red fur hat and trims she wore when she first re-encountered Onegin, or the rather splendid gold over scarlet dress in the Final Scene, which would match my jewellery.

I would be tempted to say that red was a dominant colour, because in Act 1, all the peasants were wearing red and white. However, the area surrounding Tatiana's bedroom were green and blue. My companion mentioned Dulux for the first scene; the letter scene in the bedroom was exactly to me like a promotional colour chart one would pick up from B&Q. The ball scene was very very colourful indeed. The duel scene was, in effect, monochrome, set on a frozen river (we'll return to the river), and the next 'ball scene' - which was enacted as a skating party - was also monochrome with costumes in bold colours. The colours of the final scene matched the old gold of Tatiana's dress.

There were gimmicks galore. Possibly no new production at the Royal Opera House can happen without The Box. The misshapen box, set an angle, which acts as an (almost) self-contained stage within a stage. In this it served both as Tatiana's bedroom at her childhood home and her library at Prince Gremin's townhouse.

Another gimmick was the frieze. The opera opened with an additional curtain portraying an enormous picture of a naked man in foetus position (so no naughty bits...). at least, I think it was a man. Very androgynous. Possibly a buff man with incongruous man-boobs. This later changed into a similar size homoerotic picture that must have been inspired by a Crucifixion of Christ painting.

The most important gimmick however was the river. Do not underestimate the importance of the river. I most certainly did at first. Act I scene 1 began with the girls sitting on a marble altar in the river; for some reason it reminded me of the Dead Diana shrine at Althorp. The frieze of the buff-man-with-man-boobs was lowered and behind I could see scenery. I saw planks of wood and assumed them to be the 19th Century Russian equivalent of sunloungers. The three dimensions of the rural scenery worked well, with hills rolling away and in the distance a building. The frieze rose to reveal the sunloungers to be plank bridges across a river. One of the extras picked up the building and carried it away , ruining the illusion of perspective.

After Tatiana had spent the night writing a letter to Onegin, some hefty chaps came on stage to wheel away her bedroom aka The Box, and the ground on which it stood was flooded with water and suddenly became a river again. I did not see the point of the wooden plank bridges because everyone waded across the water regardless. Except for Onegin, who, being a Haughty-Russkie used the bridge. And Tatiana who splashed maniacally in it. Note for the Weak-Bladdered. You will need a wee stop before this begins. There is a lot of water.

In the interval we speculated as to how the duel would be staged. We concluded that we wouldn't mind a bit of Operatic Mud Wrestling in the river, perhaps with some gentlemanly white shirts getting wet. In the event, the river was frozen. Lensky pointed the gun at his own head before attempting to shoot Onegin, but Onegin had shot him first. For Lensky it was heart-wrenching (and he died). Onegin was as emotionally involved as someone might be when knocking icicles off a garden gate.

We monitored the opera for key operatic moments.

No furniture was abused. Plenty was left in strategic places, looking as if it might be ripe for abusing but it all remained firmly upright. Rolando teased and tantalised my furniture-abuse-fetishist friend by appearing to threaten the furniture on more than one occasion in the aftermath of the ball, but in the end he merely knocked over a pile of books - perhaps a more intellectual form of furniture abuse.

There was no chest hair on display although Onegin did turn up at the Gremin's skating party with the top three buttons of his shirt undone. Perhaps that's a uniquely Russian way of dressing for the cold. But I understand that Dima doesn't do chest hair.

Wonderfully, we had some extremely good tenorial falling to the ground. In despair, at the end of the Ball scene, in preparation for the musical highlight of the entire opera, Lenski's Aria, Kuda, Kuda. And his tumble to the ground on being shot was a tenorial death par excellence. The Pupil has learnt well from the Master.

I'm going to the performance a week tomorrow, after which I shall discuss issues like orchestra, and singing, and the stupidity of male 'honour'.

Update: Hairy McMungo was also there

Eugene Onegin

Starring Gerald Finley

Written by Tchaikovsky, libretto adapted from Pushkin's poem, translated into English

At English National Opera.

A wonderful night out.

The papers had said, Go to see this for Gerald Finley, which is the main reason I booked the ticket. But, good as he is, he was not the only reason to enjoy it. Most of the rest of the cast was serviceablly competent but generic. I did not take to the tenor playing Lensky - Gwyn Hughes Jones, although I will say he did a creditable rendition of Lensky's Aria. Catrin Wyn-Davies (Tatyana)was particularly impressive and melodramatic in her 'mad scene'.

The production was sumptious, especially in the 'crowd scenes' - there were three in total. The dancers were as worth seeing as the singers. The duel scene was very moving. It's not an opera I know very well* but I thoroughly enjoyed the music. And The Royal Opera are putting it on next season with Dmitri Hvorostovsky, Rolando Villazon and Amanda Roocroft.

Gerald Finley will be on the radio on Tuesday. A bit of googling finds a recent interview with him, brief biography, profile and I'm not the only blogger who's a fan...

Next season he's appearing as the Count in Le Nozze di Figaro at Covent Garden and I've already booked for him in Beethoven's Ninth next April. A couple of lunchtime concerts at Wigmore Hall, with only limited tickets available.

* ie not at all, really