The intertwining of opera and ballet has a long and venerable history, its apogee in 19th-century Paris, but the combination that Ivan Vsevolozhsky, director of the Imperial Theatres, drew from Tchaikovsky in the 1890s has never quite taken off as an established double bill. His ballet The Nutcracker has become a staple of the Christmas season, capturing the imagination and filtering into popular culture in a way that its operatic counterpart, Iolanta, has never entirely managed. The combination of the two works is far from unknown – Welsh National Opera paired them almost twenty years ago at the Royal Albert Hall – but it was a treat to see Vasily Petrenko and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra perform them side by side, albeit in a reduced format, under the branding “Icons Rediscovered”.
The relationship between the RPO and Petrenko, who took over as their Music Director two years ago – continues to yield rich dividends. There was a clarity of sound and precision in definition that came from his players, no easy thing to achieve in the acoustical quagmire of the Royal Albert Hall. For practical reasons we were presented with Act 2 of The Nutcracker, freed of its dancers. Velvety violins rested on luminous brass in The Magic Castle, the harps clean, the cellos wafting fragrantly. Quality of brass playing was particularly high, from the excellent trumpet solo in the Spanish Dance to the clarity of the section in the Trepak. What a joy, too, to hear the controlled chaos that Petrenko brought to Mother Ginger and the Clowns, the sections in perfect balance with wild, yet precise, playing from the RPO forces.
Alas, the decision to amplify the singers in Denni Sayers' semi-staging of Iolanta marred what might otherwise have been a rewarding performance of Tchaikovsky’s final opera. If it is deemed that the Royal Albert Hall is an unsuitable venue for the performance of an opera without microphones, then opera should not be performed there at all. Rather than shortening the distance between singers and audience, it was increased, the sound unnatural and at times distorted. This was a shame as it detracted from some commendable singing and a reasonable attempt at semi-staging this rather beautiful story of a blind princess, kept isolated from the world and ignorant of her condition by her overprotective father.
Maria Motolygina was a sympathetic Iolanta, her ample and expressive soprano voice almost too forceful for the naive, earnest young girl she gave us. Alexey Dolgov took a little time to warm up as her rapturous beau, Count Vaudémont. His first big piece in Scene 6 was attractively sung, but lacked that dynamism and conviction that elevates the character; this was found, though, in the central duet with Iolanta where Dolgov's voice bloomed and swelled with ardour. Andrei Kymach delivered an early hit as Robert in his paean to Mathilde, sung with swagger and style. Kymach’s baritone has pleasing heft to it at the top, and with even tone and careful phrasing there was plenty of technical ability to supplement a rather rakish stage presence.
Alexander Tsymbalyuk was a reflective King René, delivering a father wracked with guilt and at war with himself in his constant ruminations as to how best he might secure Iolanta’s happiness. Tsymbalyuk was particularly impressive in his delivery of René’s arioso, plangently sung with his elegant bass. Ashley Riches sang Ibn-Hakia, despite being clearly unwell. Veena Akama-Makia impressed as a forceful Marta, articulately sung and full of humanity. Underpinning it all was Petrenko’s inspired conducting of the score, again full of detail and an almost symphonic sweep. Without the microphones, there was potential here for this to have been a performance of major significance.
