The idea of setting possibly the most beloved work of Russian fiction to music was not originally Tchaikovsky's. It was proposed to him by a contralto by the name of Yelizaveta Lavrovskaya and was immediately rejected by the composer on a famous letter to his brother, Modest, and referred to as "wild." He recognized that this novel was loved not as much for the tale as it was for the telling - for Pushkin's poetry. But once the idea was put into Pjotr's head... He couldn't seem to get it out. To make a long story short he realized eventually what critics have failed to recognize since. With music, he could perform exactly those functions for which Pushkin's narrative voice was so prized, and in particular, HIS music was ideal. In letters to his brother, he states that since not much action will be occurring on stage, the action must be in the music. Through finding this musical voice he created a sort of stylized operatic realism, similar to La Traviata or Manon but for many, it stands even higher in its national tradition than they in theirs. Its realism was fundamental in determining its style. Focusing primarily on the complex emotional lives of the characters.
He cut quite a bit of Pushkin's original text, but what was left preserves much of Pushkin's original text. Some of the major changes including Monsieur Triquet's couplets (Shilovsky) as well as Lensky's arioso of act I and Gremin's of act III (both composer), but the first composed and one of the most important sections of the work is Tatiana's letter scene, to a completely unaltered Pushkin text.
This opera has been highly criticized, primarily I think, just because Tchaikovsky himself is often criticized. He is treated with condescension, typically regarded as entirely naive and composing on nothing more than a relatively infantile level of personal identification. It is easy to see where these opinions come from when reading his letters to his brother and nowhere more than in the letters regarding Eugen Onegin, in his ingenuous mooning over Tatiana. But when one truly listens to the music here, any perceptive musician can see the sophistication in Tchaikovsky's techniques. It is every bit as effective as Pushkin's lyrics. People often criticize its lack of inherent Russianness, but I argue that it is its Russianness that makes this piece work, it may not be a Russianness like Boris Godunov or Prince Igor, but much of this piece is underlined with a feel of Russian folk music and style of the 19th Century. It is all based on an essential realism of Russian life and culture that most certainly CAN be heard throughout these lyric scenes. It is possibly an urbane, relatively European Russianness... but a Russianness that I think grounds this whole work in an elegance that many Western ears don't hear as inherently "Russian." These are topics that will certainly be in constant dialogue for years to come, but the focus of this article is one particular recording of this ingenious and personally moving work.
The Wiener Staatsoper has been doing Eugen Onegin on and off since its conception. But until recently Russian was not a language that was heard very often in the opera world outside of Russia, not the least due to the linguistic hurdles that come with a Slavic text. In fact even after Herbert von Karajan adopted a policy of performing works only in their original languages during his term in Vienna from 1956-1964, Eugen Onegin was still being done in German translation. The first time Onegin was heard in Vienna in Russian was in May of 1988. They used the old sets of Jürgen Rose but it was directed by Grischa Asagaroff and this production was the first at the Staatsoper to be conducted by Seiji Ozawa who, in 1992, four years later, would become their musical director.
This is a live recording from 20. May 1988 recorded by Orfeo D'Or.
Eugen Onegin - Wolfgang Brendel
Tatiana - Mirella Freni
Vladimir Lenski - Peter Dvorsky
Olga - Rohangiz Yachmi
Prince Gremin - Nicolai Ghiaurov
Larina - Gertrude Jahn
Filipyevna - Margaritha Lilowa
Triquet - Heinz Zednik
Ein Hauptmann - Peter Köves
Saretzki - Robert Kerns
Conductor - Seiji Ozawa
The whole piece opens with a reference to Tatiana's letter scene. This gives the impression that Tchaikovsky's main character really is the young Tatiana, so we'll start there. Probably one of the most central elements of this production's success was Mirella Freni as Tatiana. After a full career of the lyric, and even some spinto, Italianate heroines, Freni decided to pick up a number of Russian roles in the last ten years of her career, this being one of the most important. Even slightly past her prime (54 years old) she is in remarkable voice. Capable of colouring her music with every necessary emotional nuance and maintaining a beautiful Italianate tone. She is admittedly a bit old for this particular role. It is a character that relies greatly on her youth... her naivety... her vulnerability. Freni does amazingly with all of these even though the tambour of her voice is incredibly mature (and naturally it should be), however she was granted the gift of always having a rather youthful sounding voice anyway.
Wolfgang Brendel is an ideally characterized Onegin. He portrays an Onegin who is a fine balance of the elements that make him real. He is a young, privileged man who is emotionally uninvolved with life. Drifting around from one excitement to the next. He is selfish, but not entirely heartless, which is nice after so many actors play him as extremely mean. It is not that he is "mean" but that he is unconcerned with anybody but himself, a bit cold out of the boredom he experiences in his life. We see the moment where he awakens from the haze he has been living in and then it is made clear the moment where he realizes he has quite possibly lost his only shot at happiness. The role is sung impeccably even if his tone is not quite as naturally beautiful as some of the other great interpreters of the role, BUT even with his slightly "dry" tone, he gives an excellent portrayal of this troubled young man.
Peter Dvorsky as Lenski is one of the best parts of this production. He gives a performance that is completely committed. He offers a personally involved portrayal of the role which helps the listener truly empathize. From his enamored love scene with the oblivious Olga in the first act, through his enraged, embarrassed and hopeless outburst in the second act through his complete resignation, knowing that he will most likely be killed by his best friend who has seemingly taken everything he cares about away from him. His round and impassioned tenor soars through the first two acts and does it as if the role were written for him.
Nicolai Ghiaurov sings a role here that has become the one of the favoured cameo roles for only the greatest aging bassi. (I actually had the privilege to see Ferruccio Furlanetto sing the role at the Salzburger Festspiele.) Ghiaurov was one of the greatest singing actors to grace the world of opera. In this small role of one scene and one beautiful arioso, he shines. At this point he had had an amazing career, had seen life and the world, and had been married to Mirella Freni for about ten years. We can hear that experience mirrored in Prince Gremin who has settled down to a new wife that brings him, finally, true joy. The inward intimacy of his one aria touches the audience in a place where few performers have been able to reach. Even without Ghiaurov's amazing performance histroy, his performance here is enough to justify him as an artist.
Seiji Ozawa's debut at the Wiener Staatsoper was an incredibly involved one. His conducting of this elegant and sophisticated piece shows just why he was chosen to head the musical direction in Vienna as principal conductor. He leads this piece with a kind of abandonment that brings it to life, giving musical expression to every foreboding, longing and disappointment that is pent up in Tchaikovsky's score... releasing them into the atmosphere of the audience. He shows us the real difference between an opera and "Lyrical scenes" that we so often hear spoken about but on this disc we actually get to hear. Free from all the formal constraints and superfluities, he captures the characterizations with precision and partnership with the singers. I find some of his tempi a bit TOO abandoned, wishing he would chill out a bit and take his time, letting the grandiose elements of Late Imperial Russia take over, allowing the music to breathe the way he does in Gremin's aria. I find myself craving this particularly in Onegin and Lenski's act two duet immediately before the duel. His reckless speed does little to allow this complex relationship and social custom to really set in for the modern audience, and his dancing Polonaise before act III lilts and twirls with all of the decadence one imagines at a 19th century ball of the privileged, but is lacking some of the grand opulence that, say, Levine's recording has.
If one is looking for a first time recording of this great work, I would firstly recommend the 1989 recording by Levine with Sir Thomas Allen, Mirella Freni, Anne Sofie von Otter and Neil Shicoff. I think it is among the best renderings out there. Also the DVD of the 2007 Met production with Hvorostovsky & Fleming conducted by Gergiev is undeniably phenominal in singing, acting and production, and Gergiev is an undeniable master of Russian music.
This '88 production from Vienna, however, is a histroical landmark and a wonderful reading of this sophisticated and complex work, and definitely worth acquiring for collectors or Onegin connoisseurs.
- Christopher Michael Kelley
