Onegin's last line in the Tchaikovsky opera is "Pozor...  Toska...  O
zhalki, zhrebi moi!" Toska is not a mispelled reference to the Puccini
opera, but rather "anguish/misery/emptiness" as Pushkin's anti-hero
laments his "pitiable fate."

Mercifully, director Johannes Schaaf and designer Peter Pabst didn't
surrender to what must have been a great temptation to turn "Onegin"
into their usual post-modernistic/neo-Teutonic Toska, in yet another
attempt to "invigorate a static art form." No, there was only some of
that, and enough fine vocal and orchestral performance...  in the boring,
traditional manner.

And yet, there was one scene of supreme irony, much as that might have
been lost on our Director with a Mission. In the great St. Peterburg
scene, in Prince Gremin's palace, during most of the Polonaise the dancers
stood motionless.  That'll fix "static opera"!

On the plus side, the same scene featured pyrotechnical wizardry you
won't find in any old EuroTrash: a ball of fire flung up 20 feet in
the air, there lighting mysteriously three tiers of candles one by one.
Amazing.  There is a lengthy, illustrated essay about the great chandelier
shtick in the program, but I stopped reading after "Schaaf wanted to
create a scene that matched the intensity of the duel...  this chandlelier
(sic) [note the etymological roots in `candelabra'] is lit from below
and makes the impression of grand society in contrast to the medicre
society..." etc.  It works as a spectacle (although stopping the music
cold), but perhaps not as an introduction to Heidegger's "Sein und Zeit."

Back to the music, believed by some to be an important component of
opera.  There were three outstanding artists involved in this generally
good-to-excellent production.  In the role of Lensky, Polish tenor Piotr
Beczala made an exciting US debut.  With a true "Russian tenor" voice,
Beczala is also a strong all-around lyrical tenor, with exemplary diction
and projection, filling the huge house seemingly without effort.  In the
scene before the duel and then in the aria "Kuda?  Kuda?" Beczala was
right up there, among the finest Lenskys.

Ilan Volkov, 28, who became chief conductor (for a while) of the BBC
Scottish Symphony at age 25, made his SF Opera debut, conducting a solid,
honest, straightforward performance, supporting the singer beautifully,
getting as good a sound out of the orchestra as some notable veterans
on the podium here can offer.  And, Ian Robertson's SF Opera Chorus -
challenged by some of Schaaf's strange requirements to make and hold
poses, while wearing exotic costumes and hats (Beach Blanket Onegin?) -
sang magnificently; Volkov and Robertson got exactly the right sound out
of the chorus, no huffing and puffing or whispering and emoting...  just
singing well, always in balance with the soloists and the orchestra.

Elena Prokina, as Tatyana, did better the last time around (1997)
when her voice was fresher, and the conductor/stage director then, Yuri
Temirkanov, allowed her to sing instead of making laps upstage, among
birch trees, clotheslines, and drying laundry.  When Schaaf made Prokina
hide from Onegin in the downstage "stream," the audience laughter served
as a handy way to break up dramatic tension - not to be recovered by the
poor singers.  In the title role, Russell Braun turned in a decent,
unexciting performance, somewhat lacking in power, if not in presence.
Prokina and Braun came together (even as their characters parted forever)
in the final scene with their best vocal and dramatic work all evening.

Allyson McHardy's powerful voice made her Olga a different kind of
supporting role, with almost too much presence.  Gustav Andreassen's
big, deep voice impressed in Prince Gremin's aria, but his delivery
was "unmusical," more like a dry recitative.  John Duykers sang Triquet.
Another US debut, Annett Andriesen's Filipyevna, could have been easily
filled locally.  The Merola and Adler programs had numerous talented
Russian-speaking singers - where were they tonight?  And what happened
with the lighting?  Did Manfred Voss mean to go capriciously from bright
to dark and then bright again, or was it an equipment malfunction?

Bottom line: The musical forces and Schaaf did meet the difficult
theatrical challenge that's "Onegin." With seven separate scenes, and
scene-changing pauses in-between, an awkward break after and hour and a
half, and yet too early to have the intermission to indicate the passing
of time before Onegin's return - this is a tough piece to do.  If the
work is done with three intermissions, the evening approaches Wagnerian
proportions for what is, essentially, a chamber opera.  Given those
circumstances, the San Francisco "Onegin" is head-and-shoulders above a
toska of an evening.

Janos Gereben
www.sfcv.org
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