The cast of the Royal Opera's new production of Eugene Onegin | Photo: Tristram Kenton

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Be careful what you wish for. After Kasper Holten’s busy 2013 staging of Eugene Onegin with its dancer doubles and accumulated memories littering the stage (remember Lensky’s log?), it would be natural to want something a little less cluttered this time round. However, Ted Huffman, in his main stage debut at the Royal Opera House, goes to the opposite extreme, stripping the stage of anything but a couple of chairs for much of the first half. So bare is Hyemi Shin’s 'set' that it could easily be mistaken for a budget English Touring Opera show.  

Visual austerity is one thing, but Huffman also strips Tchaikovsky’s opera of any sense of time or place. Instead, we are in a nondescript nomansland: Onegin de-russified to no obvious purpose. I spent much of the evening filling in the blank canvas with Jürgen Rose’s beautiful designs for John Cranko’s Onegin ballet which plays on this same stage in January.   

The upside is that Huffman focuses on detailed Personenregie, drawing moving performances from his singers. He adds some bold touches. The Larina sisters are so close that Tatyana drags Olga from her bed and dictates her letter to Onegin, which Olga writes, making her sister complicit in her declaration of love. So why does Olga betray Tatyana so quickly at her sister’s name-day party, not just flirting with Onegin but engaging in a vigorous bout of tonsil hockey? Presenting Monsieur Triquet as a clown is unnecessary; the elderly French tutor is perfectly capable of sending himself up without white make-up and balloons.  

Neatly, both sisters appear for the duel (an idea taken from Cranko) amid falling snow, where Onegin honourably lays his pistol aside, but where there is still a shocking fatality. It’s clumsy stage direction though to have 'dead' Lensky rise and face the audience, who reward him with curtain call applause, after Act 3 has kicked off. Lensky remains a silent observer at the St Petersburg grand ball – more Argentine tango than Polonaise, but I’ll take it; too many productions ignore the dance elements in the opera, which clearly delineate class structure in early 19th-century Russian society.  

Gordon Bintner as Eugene Onegin and Liparit Avetisyan as Lensky in Eugene Onegin | Photo: Tristram Kenton

In the final scene we see Tatyana’s two children playing with Auntie Olga (Gremin tells Onegin that he’s been married to Tatyana for six years, inflated from the libretto’s two). They briefly interrupt Onegin’s impassioned declaration but Huffman allows him and Tatyana to play out the final moments alone, allaying any thoughts that Onegin might eventually run off with Olga in another plot twist.  

Huffman’s production is probably going to divide audiences and critics. How revivable it will be with different casts is a moot point. Here, the four principals were deeply committed to his vision, mostly carrying it off convincingly. They were led by Kristina Mkhitaryan’s outstanding Tatyana, sung with passion, touching sincerity and a burnished soprano. Her Letter Scene was gloriously sung, particularly the hushed lines 'Who are you? My guardian angel or a wily tempter?', in duet with solo French horn.  

Canadian baritone Gordon Bintner certainly looked dashing as Onegin, but his short top meant that higher notes were snatched and he frequently sounded underpowered, possibly hampered by the wide open set.  

Armenian tenor Liparit Avetisyan was an adorable Nemorino here last season in L’elisir d’amore; now he’s a similarly sympathetic Lensky, every inch the poet in his ringing tone and fine phrasing. His big aria “Kuda, kuda” flowed with ease and open tone. Avery Amereau was a lively Olga, not the darkest mezzo ever heard in the role, but appealing and sparky. Alison Kettlewell sang firmly as Madama Larina (a role she sang for Royal Opera boss Oliver Mears at Scottish Opera in 2018), while Rhonda Browne was a no-nonsense Filippyevna, channelling Caroline Aherne’s Mrs Merton. Brindley Sherratt replaced an indisposed Dmitry Belosselskiy as Prince Gremin, with rock solid bottom notes compensating for a few ragged ones higher up in his taxing big aria. Christophe Mortagne’s Triquet is now sadly well past its prime, intonation approximate.  

Henrik Nánási is no stranger to Tchaikovsky’s score – he conducted the premiere of Barrie Kosky’s celebrated Komische Oper production – and he drew some fine playing from the orchestra, but he was inclined to drag tempi, particularly in the final duet which sapped some of the impetus from his singers. The Royal Opera Chorus sang – and danced – with its usual gusto.  

Holten’s staging was only revived once, in 2015 (the final appearances at the house of the late, great Dmitri Hvorostovsky). Despite some interesting touches, I’m not convinced Huffman’s production is going to beat that meagre record.  

Until 14 October. rbo.org.uk​