Galina Vishnevskaya, one of the great Tatyanas of the 20th century, vowed never to set foot inside the Bolshoi again after seeing Dmitri Tcherniakov’s new production of Eugene Onegin in 2006. I saw it four years later when the company brought it to Covent Garden and found it highly infuriating, deliberately fighting against Pushkin, against Tchaikovsky. Does time heal? This was my first taste of Tcherniakov and I’ve seen a lot by this Muscovite enfant terrible since – the good, the bad and the downright ugly. What I have noted is that he tends to bring something special to Russian repertoire (The Tsar’s Bride, Prince Igor, The Invisible City of Kitezh, Snow Maiden, Tsar Saltan), so it was interesting to revisit his Onegin, filmed at the Garnier in Paris in 2008 and now released for the first time on DVD and Blu ray, for some serious re evaluation.

The period is indistinct, but updated, with many scenes reminiscent of Chekhov. There are just two sets for the work’s seven ‘lyric scenes’; a reception room in the Larin household for Acts 1 and 2 and the equivalent in a St Petersburg mansion for Act 3. Both are dominated by enormous oval tables capable of seating at least 20 guests, which means there is no room for dancing – a perverse decision when dance is central to each act. None of the action takes place out of doors, Tcherniakov thus ignoring the libretto’s directions in order to create a hermetically sealed, pressure-cooker atmosphere.

The overwhelming presence of the over populated dining table means that too many private scenes are made public, with characters’ soliloquies delivered to others: Tatyana rather oddly addresses the guests, who are very properly taking tea at the Larins’ in the first scene – no peasants here, thank you – about letting her dreams carry her away; Lensky’s aria ‘Kuda, kuda’ is largely addressed to a sympathetic old maid while other servants clear the table from the previous day’s party; Onegin’s Act 3 musings about how high society bores him are delivered to said high society guests who, during the polonaise, had pointedly ignored him; and Tatyana’s torment at re encountering Onegin is confessed to her husband.

Aspects of Tcherniakov’s production irritate me less now. Lensky’s death becomes a tragic accident, Onegin refusing to take the rifle for their duel, resulting in a tussle during which Lensky is shot. Onegin eventually returns to Petersburg a hysterical wreck and threatens Tatyana that he will shoot himself. He applies a pistol to his temple only to discover that the barrel’s empty.

There are great strengths too. The Letter Scene works remarkably well. Tatyana, rather than putting pen to paper, ‘composes’ her letter to Onegin by addressing the chair on which he had been seated that afternoon. A storm rages outside, the wind smashing in the windows. Billowing curtains flapping at the back of Tatyana’s chair remain the iconic visual high point of the whole production. Onegin’s rejection of Tatyana is delivered from opposite sides of the oval table, mirrored in the finale, where the tables are, literally, turned, as Tatyana coldly rejects him.

Whatever one thinks of Tcherniakov’s concepts – at least there is no group therapy here – he always draws excellent performances from his casts, who clearly buy into his ideas. Here, Mariusz Kwiecień is a magnetic Onegin, cold, aloof and wonderfully laconic, his smooth baritone adding to his allure. Tatiana Monogarova is ideal as her namesake, with a lovely creamy quality to her soprano. Her Tatyana makes the transition from awkward girl to imperious princess most impressively. Andrey Dunaev’s Lensky is light-voiced and suitably gawky. By 2008, Anatolij Kotscherga was already a shadow of his former self as Prince Gremin, singing a lumpily phrased aria, struggling to maintain any sort of legato, his once-black bass seriously underpowered. Makvala Kasrashvili’s Madame Larina is a vulgar caricature, flapping around hysterically. Alexander Vedernikov draws excellent playing from his Bolshoi Theatre Orchestra.

It’s certainly worth seeing this staging and, with such excellent vocal performances, it bears repeated listening at the very least.