The Grange Festival has upgraded its Ralph Fiennes–Eugene Onegin connection. In 1999, the Greek Revival mansion with its distinctive Doric portico featured as the “venerable pile” Onegin inherits from his uncle in the film of Pushkin’s verse novel, directed by Martha Fiennes, in which her brother Ralph played the diffident title character. In January this year, I saw Fiennes make his opera directing debut in Paris with, naturally enough, Onegin. And his wonderful Tatyana there, Armenian soprano Ruzan Mantashyan, now completes the circle by becoming the single most compelling reason to see the festival’s new production of Tchaikovsky’s opera.
It was quite the casting coup to secure Mantashyan. As well as Paris, she’s performed the role in Berlin (Barrie Kosky’s production), Vienna (Dmitri Tcherniakov’s), Hamburg and Liège. Vocally, she shone, her supple soprano sounding dewy fresh as the lovestruck teenager, including a gripping Letter Scene, before unleashing a steel blade in Act 3, where her Tatyana was transformed into an imperious aristocrat.
Mantashyan is the complete package, dramatically compelling. Your eye is drawn to her even when she is not singing: listening, rapt, to Filippyevna’s history, or the look of dread when she realises Onegin is rejecting her epistolary declaration of love. For much of the final scene, you sense her character enjoying turning the tables on him, until uttering the words “I love you” almost destroys her. She is, quite simply, one of the finest Tatyanas in the world right now.
Having such a world class singer as Tatyana does, however, expose a gulf between her and the rest of the cast. Vladislav Chizhov is a young Onegin – he only made his debut outside Russia last autumn – and his towering stature adds to his aloof air. His firm baritone sounded impressive, warming up over a very warm evening, even if there’s not a great deal of charisma as yet.
Diana Montague and Catherine Wyn-Rogers displayed their experience as, respectively, a homely Madame Larina and an all-seeing Filippyevna. Ryan Vaughan Davies was quite the dandy as the poet Lensky, turning in a creditable “Kuda, kuda”, although his throaty tone and falling to his knees mid-aria à la Vittorio Grigolo were less poetic. Alice Chung’s hyperactive Olga and Toby Spence’s fragile Triquet underwhelmed, but young Serbian bass Mark Kurmanbayev sang a compassionate Gremin with robust tone. Lidiya Yankovskaya conducted a taut, excitable account of Tchaikovsky’s miraculous score, even if the strings of the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra audibly wilted in the heat. Woodwinds and brass made quite the impact in a muscly Polonaise.
Max Webster’s staging is straightforward but stylish. His most striking conceit is to have the entire chorus in female dress for the first half of the opera, reflecting Tatyana’s emotions, a group of six dancers echoing her movements, almost breathing with her at times. In Act 3, chorus and dancers then don white tie and tails as Onegin’s story comes into focus, mimicking his attitudes, feverishly writing letters during the ecossaise.
Keen-eyed Onegin fanciers will spot directorial touches drawing on famous productions – Tatyana composing her letter facing an imaginary Onegin (Tcherniakov), Onegin stripping at the start of the Polonaise to dress for the St Petersburg ball (Robert Carsen), a pair of dancer doubles (Kasper Holten), although considerably better choreographed here by Arthur Pita. A couple of weirdnesses – possibly dream sequences – include an Olga-Onegin snog at the party and Tatyana and Onegin moodily slow-dancing during the second verse of Gremin’s aria.
Frankie Bradshaw’s set for the first half of the evening has trees, a swing, even a bed and a writing desk for the Letter Scene. The chandeliers and mirrored walls give Act 3 an imposing glamour, but this detracts from a completely inert duel scene immediately after the supper interval which has to play out in front of the curtain, meaning the officiating Zaretsky must exit before the duel even takes place because there is no other safe space for him to stand. Just play the duel in front of the mirrors, then drop in the chandeliers for Act 3 – although they badly need oiling, squeaking noisily as they descend for the combustible final showdown.
Quibbles aside, Mantashyan’s Tatyana makes this show completely unmissable.
