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Sonya Yoncheva as Iolanta and Ensemble in Tchaikovsky's Iolanta at Wiener Staatsoper (Photo: Michael Pöhn)

The last time a new production of Tchaikovsky’s Iolanta appeared at the Wiener Staatsoper it was conducted by Gustav Mahler! It was way back in 1900 – just eight years after the opera’s premiere in St Petersburg – and the house was then called the Hofoper (Vienna Court Opera). The opera was sung in German and it ran for a grand total of nine performances through to 1901, untouched since until this new production by Evgeny Titov, making his house debut. Was it worth the wait? 

Undoubtedly, yes. In star soprano Sonya Yoncheva and conductor Tugan Sokhiev, Titov has key collaborators who clearly believe passionately in Tchaikovsky’s opera and he presents a beautiful production that plays it more or less by the book… until a breathtaking denouement (spoiler below).  

Iolanta is based on Henrik Hertz’s Danish play King René's Daughter, relating the life of Yolande de Bar. She was the daughter of René of Anjou, who will be familiar to opera goers attending the Festival d’Aix-en-Provence, where his statue stands in the Cours Mirabeau. In this romanticised account, Iolanta is blind… but she doesn’t know it, shielded from the truth by her (over) protective father. When Burgundian knight Count Vaudémont stumbles into her paradisiacal garden and falls in love with her, the truth is revealed. She undergoes surgery (thanks to the Moorish physician Ibn-Hakia) and is miraculously cured. Cue rejoicing.  

Titov sets the opera in the modern day. Rufus Didwiszus’ set depicts a dilapidated castle in which a beautiful green bower has been created – a challenging set to navigate for a singer playing blind. The curtain rises on Iolanta bathing naked in a pool of water – Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus is the visual reference – surrounded by a chorus of attendants or playmates who are dressed identically in wispy floral dresses (costumed by Annemarie Woods). Some of them play a string serenade. Paradise.  

Or not. Iolanta is given a tranquiliser shot to help her sleep and the chorus don yellow macs, shed their wigs and clock off for the day, friends doubtless hired by the hour. Ibn-Hakia is dragged in by a couple of heavies – we’re talking bodybuilders here – and assesses Iolanta’s condition via electrodes wired up to his laptop.  

When Iolanta is left to sleep, Vaudémont and Robert, Duke of Burgundy, arrive looking like backpackers. Robert has been engaged since childhood to Iolanta, but, conveniently, has never seen her; he’s desperate to wriggle out of his pledge in order to marry the Countess Mathilde. Vaudémont falls for Iolanta at first sight and Robert, believing she has cast a spell on his pal, rushes off for reinforcements. The following love duet is sincere and touching before Vaudémont’s presence is discovered by king and court, his life threatened.  

Robert returns, dragging in a dead bull atop which sits muscly Mathilde in bridal veil – a comic moment that rather fits the garbled cancellation of the wedding contract at this point in the opera – and Iolanta is promised to Vaudémont, on condition that her surgery is successful. The operation works, the newly sighted Iolanta is confronted by light and the chorus rejoices… until Tchaikovsky’s final bars when the backdrop falls from the set and the scales fall from our eyes. We see the war-torn “real world” they’ve been shielding Iolanta against and she crumples in despair. Isn’t she better off blind to it after all?  

Sonya Yoncheva as Iolanta in Tchaikovsky's Iolanta at Wiener Staatsoper (Photo: Michael Pöhn)

On opening night, Titov’s staging received heroic performances from all concerned, led by Yoncheva who absolutely sang her heart out as Iolanta. Her soprano now has gloriously rich depths – think Anna Netrebko about ten years ago (a compliment) – and she spun the lines of her opening arioso like silk. Her top was thrilling, matched in duet by tenor Dmytro Popov, and her acting was utterly believable.  

The role of Vaudémont was originally created by Nikolay Figner, who also sang the first Herman in Pique Dame, and it really needs the same degree of heft. Popov obliged but he also demonstrated a honeyed head voice to close his aria. Boris Pinkhasovich swaggered in Robert’s brief, but knockout, aria, his ringing baritone especially fine at the top.  

Yoncheva’s fellow Bulgarian, bass Ivo Stanchev, sang a resolute René. Attila Mokus dispatched Ibn-Hakia’s spiritual monologue with immense power. Among the minor roles, Simonas Strazdas’ booming bass impressed as Bertrand, and Maria Nazarova charmed as Brigitte, one of Iolanta’s friends.  

Presiding over it all was Sokhiev, a conductor prized in Russian repertoire. From the rich sonorities in the wind-only prelude, he drew tremendous playing from the orchestra, a mishap in a horn fanfare was about the only blemish. His tempi were on the indulgent side but in such a lush score, why not? It’s clear Sokhiev adores this music and the Staatsoper audience clearly fell for it too. Even the director’s curtain call was greeted by unanimous cheers for what is easily the best new production of the season here thus far. A triumph.  

Until 6th April  wiener-staatsoper.at