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 [log in to unmask]