This imaginative staging by Lehnhoff derives from the 1998 Baden-Baden Festival, given by the young singers of the European Union Opera, conducted – with vitality – by Rozhdestvensky. After a hangfire opening scene set on an open plain, dominated (why?) by kites and featuring an Olga who fidgets around the scene smiling in a somewhat silly fashion, the production gains in tension, though it never comes within distance of Graham Vick’s riveting Glyndebourne version of earlier in the 1990s (surely due soon on DVD). Tatyana’s bedroom is filled with books – although she cannot be old enough to have imbibed such a vast library – which then feature in most of the rest of the opera as a visual leitmotif. The party scenes are nicely differentiated in Markus Meyer’s pertinent decor, and the glacial emptiness of the duel scene creates just the right atmosphere.
All too often, singers are too old for the parts they are taking. Here, apart from the lovers, they are too young. Larina looks like the girls’ sister rather than their mother, Katja Boos simply cannot summon up the experience and wisdom achieved by so many interpreters of Filipyevna in the past, while the Gremin is hardly the gnarled figure predicated by the libretto.
Only one of the four lovers will really do, and he is Glushchak, who at once places himself in the front rank of Russian-speaking baritones. His demeanour, voice, accent and phrasing are well-nigh perfect for Onegin, and his transformation from bored cynic to desperate, obsessed admirer of Tatyana strikes precisely the right note in every sense. As we know from her Tatyana at the ENO, Orla Boylan has what it takes to sing the role, but here she is hampered by singing in Russian. Her acting is sincere and properly thought-through, but Yelena Prokina at Glyndebourne leaves her standing when it comes to seeking out the heart of the role. Konig’s rather ungainly Lensky, plangently but drily sung, gains points for suggesting the artist’s vulnerability. Anna Burford is, as I have suggested, badly directed at the start, but sings with rich, dark-toned vibrancy and evinces all Olga’s distress at the happening at the Larin’s ball.
The chorus sound not remotely Russian, but the orchestra play with real fire for their distinguished conductor. The picture is excellent, the sound a shade blatant