A few days after Fortunato Ortombina's official appointment as sovrintendente and artistic director, La Scala presents a new production of Eugene Onegin, returning to the Milan stage for the first time since 2009. Director Mario Martone has set the action sometime in the past 20 years, as suggested by Ursula Patzak's costume design. However, this trite time shift, as often happens, renders several aspects of the story implausible – most notably the duel between Onegin and Lensky, as well as the feudal dynamic between the farmers and the landowner, Larina.
Visually, the first act looks stunning. The scene unfolds in a vast, sunlit wheatfield beneath a shifting blue sky that realistically transitions into evening light (lighting design by Pasquale Mari). At the heart of the field stands a small concrete room filled with books – Tatyana’s private sanctuary, where she retreats to write her letter. The party in the second act takes place in the same wheatfield, with lively and engaging dancing (choreography by Daniela Schiavone). The small concrete room is destroyed when Lensky and Onegin challenge each other to a duel.
Martone’s handling of the duel is perhaps his weakest artistic choice. In the original, the two duel with pistols, and Onegin fatally shoots Lensky, a tragedy that haunts him and compels his aimless travels. In this production, however, the duel is transformed into a game of Russian roulette, a dramatic decision that, while not absolving Onegin, shifts the responsibility for Lensky’s death onto fate itself.
In the third act, the famous Polonaise – traditionally the grand ball in an aristocratic St Petersburg palace – is instead played with the curtain closed and soft lighting in the theatre. The ball takes place behind a red silk curtain, with only the dancers’ shadows visible, a choice that feels both uninspired and unconvincing. The final scene, however, is executed brilliantly. The stage is completely black, with Onegin stumbling in, consumed by despair. Tatyana, dressed in a rich black velvet gown, emerges from the darkness to reject him before fading back into the shadows; a striking and powerful conclusion, perfectly in tune with the opera’s tragic essence.
Timur Zangiev’s interpretation of the score failed to fully capture Tchaikovsky’s passion and romantic intensity. His approach felt restrained and uncertain, which in turn dulled the usual brilliance of the La Scala orchestra despite their rich and beautiful sound. The chorus, on the other hand, delivered a strong performance, singing with conviction, flawless intonation and precise rhythm. However, they were hindered at the beginning by the director’s questionable decision to have them sing offstage for the first chorus.
In the title role, Alexey Markov gave a compelling portrayal of the aloof dandy. His smooth, well-projected baritone conveyed both Onegin’s charm and emotional detachment, with beautiful high notes and great legato. In the final scene, Markov truly brought to life a man unraveling, falling apart yet still incapable of true emotional honesty.
Making her debut as Tatyana, Aida Garifullina's performance was underwhelming. Her soprano is simply too light for the role, lacking both the depth and the tonal variety essential to portraying Tatyana’s emotional complexity. While her silvery voice was undeniably beautiful, it struggled to rise above Tchaikovsky’s rich orchestration, forcing Zangiev to make extra effort in restraining the orchestra to ensure she could be heard.
Dmitry Korchak, as Lensky, delivered a powerful and well-projected tenor performance, convincingly capturing the youthful ardor of the ill-fated poet. At times, he lingered excessively on lyrical passages– his "V vashem domje” was appropriately tender and melancholic, though his mezza voce occasionally veered into falsetto. However, his “Kuda, kuda” was a true highlight, masterfully balancing desperation and idealistic fervor. The audience responded with the longest and most enthusiastic applause of the evening.
Prince Gremin, Tatyana’s husband, has one of the most beautiful bass arias in the repertoire, “Lyubvi vse vozrasty pokorny”, in which he expresses his deep love and devotion to his young wife. Unfortunately, Dmitry Ulianov’s performance did not fully do it justice. While he has the necessary range and delivered beautiful low notes, his legato lacked fluidity, and he sounded somewhat coarse.
Supporting roles, however, were all commendable. Yaroslav Abaimov brought great musicality and a bright, pleasing tenor to the role of Monsieur Triquet. Julia Gertseva, as the nanny Filipyevna, captured the character’s emotional depth, her bronzed, rich mezzo-soprano almost lullaby-like as she reminisced about her own wedding (at age 13—a jarring detail in the modernised setting). Alisa Kolosova was a convincing Larina, her affection for her daughters shining through both her singing and acting. Her mezzo was exceptionally well-projected. Meanwhile, Elmina Hasan made for a spirited Olga, her mezzo occasionally forced in the lower register but always warm and expressive.
