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Tatyana’s Letter to Herself Toronto
Four Seasons Centre for the Performing Arts
05/02/2025 - & May 4, 7, 9, 15, 17, 24*, 2025
Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky: Eugene Onegin, Opus 24
Lauren Fagan (Tatyana), Andrii Kymach (Eugene Onegin), Evan LeRoy Johnson (Lensky), Megan Marino (Olga), Dimitry Ivashckenko (Prince Gremin), Kristina Szabó (Larina), Emily Treigle (Filipyevna), Michael Colvin (M. Triquet), Duncan Stenhouse (Zaretsky), Korin Thomas‑Smith (Captain)
Canadian Opera Company Chorus, Sandra Horst (chorus master), Canadian Opera Company Orchestra, Speranza Scappucci (conductor)
Robert Carsen (director), Peter McClintock (revival director), Michael Levine (sets & costumes), Jean Kalman (original lighting designer), Christine Binde (lighting), Serge Bennathan (choreography)
L. Fagan (© Michael Cooper)
Tchaikovsky’s Eugene Onegin is the composer’s most popular opera and arguably the most popular Russian work of the operatic repertoire. This is understandable, as it’s rich in melody, affecting arias and wonderfully orchestrated dances (Act II’s Waltz and Act III’s Polonaise). It also affords the set designer a dazzling ball in Act III, a more modest saint’s day party in Act II, scenes in the Russian countryside, as well as a memorable letter scene, where Tatyana pours her heart out in a declaration of love.
It’s loosely based on Pushkin’s verse-novel about a blasé nobleman’s tribulations due to his dispassionate view of life. The opera emphasizes Tatyana, the young dreamy provincial, who’s smitten at first sight by Onegin, only to be patronizingly rebuffed. Slightly less prominent than the two protagonists is Lensky, a poet and Onegin’s best friend that the latter kills in a duel provoked by his cavalier flirtation with Olga, Tatyana’s sister and Lensky’s fiancée. As such, Eugene Onegin also affords huge possibilities for singers and directors.
This revival of Canadian director Robert Carsen’s acclaimed 2018 production for the Canadian Opera Company was first seen in 1997 at New York’s Metropolitan Opera. Carsen’s was one the first productions to do away with the usual pomp and opulence associated with the opera’s setting in Imperial Russia. Since then, several directors, most notably Christof Loy for Madrid, have opted for sparse sets, not for lack of resources, but rather to accentuate intense emotions. Carsen’s staging, more faithful to Pushkin than to Tchaikovsky, is a recollection of this amour manqué by Onegin himself.
The opera opens to Onegin reading the love declaration that young Tatyana had written to him. Autumn leaves are omnipresent in the first act, indicating melancholy.
The singers were mostly strong and well-cast, but sadly, Ukrainian baritone Andrii Kymach in the title role was seriously miscast. He was disappointing the previous evening in a concert version of Mascagni’s Cavalleria rusticana, and, in Paris earlier this year as Riccardo, in I Puritani. One hoped that singing in Russian, a language Kymach likely masters, would allow him to relate to the role. Alas, he was as uninspired as he was in the aforementioned Italian roles.
Though Kymach possesses a potently dark baritone, it’s far from ideal for the role. The ideal Onegin is a high baritone with elegant delivery and interpretation. Among the notable Onegins of the last few decades have been Thomas Allen, Dmitry Hvorostovsky and Simon Keenlyside. Kymach’s voice may be a booming one but it’s a lower voice, not the required higher baritone. Unfortunately, the way he portrayed Onegin was also flawed. He ought to be a dashing figure, suave, easy‑going, charming, and, most of all, utterly blasé. Kymach played him instead as a self‑assured, pedestrian man, without much flair or aristocratic deportment. An upright posture and a puffed chest do not suffice to be an aristocratic dandy. It’s hard to believe that romantic, dreamy Tatyana would ever fall for him.
Another incongruence is Onegin’s psychology. As he’s an anti Don Juan, he refuses to seduce the ingénue Tatyana, but through his constant ennui and lack of direction, he becomes infatuated with Tatyana years later. The dull provincial Onegin that Kymach portrays would likely jump at the occasion, pursuing anything in a skirt showing interest. To interpret Onegin, a singer must be both charming and nonchalant, not an uncouth plebeian. Only a great singer-actor can win public sympathy playing such an unpleasant character. Alas, Kymach was bereft of any of the qualities of an ideal Onegin. To return to the Don Juan parallel and its operatic version Don Giovanni, he was Masetto rather than Don Giovanni. One almost felt sorry for this Onegin, as he seemed out of place in Prince Gremin’s palace in Act III and even at Madame Larina’s country estate among a provincial petite noblesse.
Fortunately, Australian lyric soprano Lauren Fagan was an incandescent Tatyana, interpreting her role convincingly, both through her voice and her movements. Her timbre is beautiful, with clear high notes and a well‑supported lower register. In addition to her distinct timbre, she’s a talented actress with immense stage presence, who deftly conveyed Tatyana’s emotional vicissitudes.
Tatyana in the first act is the naïve provincial, a fact often exaggerated by singers in such a way that it diminishes the spectator’s identification with and sympathy for the character. Fagan’s Tatyana was far from a trivial small town ingénue. She was a dreamy romantic in a provincial setting who finally met someone like the heroes of the romantic novels she reads, the worldly and dashing Onegin, and he impressed her.
Having given depth to the character, her transformation into grande dame in Act III, the dignified and elegant wife of Prince Gremin in Saint Petersburg, came as no surprise. Lauren Fagan looked glamorous in her elegant robe de soirée, a queen among elegantly clad guests. Well-directed but also an obviously talented actress, Fagan moved in a truly aristocratic, yet completely natural fashion. This was no longer a dreamy provincial girl, but a noblewoman aware of her station in society.
The letter scene, “Puskai pogilabnu ya, no pryezhde,” was brilliantly staged. Tatyana’s bedroom is implausibly depicted as an attic to allow her to pour her heart out under the open sky and the rays of the moon. At the end of Act I, “Vi mnye pisali... Kogda bi zhizn domashnim krugom,” she is confronted and rejected by Onegin, but leaves with her dignity intact.
In the opera’s affecting final scene, “O! Kak mnye tyazhelo!... O, szhaltes, szhaltes nado mnoyu,” Tatyana was able to show her vulnerability, despite the veneer of reserve. In this scene, Onegin implores the now‑married Tatyana to be his lover. She confronts him, lamenting the lost opportunity of a great love, declaring her persistent desire for Onegin as well as the impossibility of betraying her husband. This intense moment is set to the music of Tatyana’s passionate Act I letter scene, albeit in a frenzied rhythm. Given the imbalance between a highly convincing Tatyana and a miscast Onegin, this usually glorious scene sadly fizzled.
American tenor Evan LeRoy Johnson was an excellent choice for the role of Lensky. Endowed with a youthful and beautifully lyric voice, he exuded charm and innocence. His famous aria, “Kuda, kuda, kuda vi udalilis,” outstandingly executed and affecting, was mercifully delivered without self‑pity. The music and text sufficiently convey the poet’s disillusionment; unnecessary pathos is redundant.
American mezzo Megan Marino was a delightful Olga. Her dark, velvety mezzo contrasted beautifully with Fagan’s lyric soprano in their duets and in the ensembles. With such a rich voice, it’s a pity Olga has no solo arias. She perfectly conveyed the younger sister’s infectious joie de vivre. Perhaps excessively playful, her Olga contrasted well with her dreamy sister Tatyana. Her flirtation with Onegin during Tatyana’s party seemed natural and spontaneous.
Russian bass Dimitry Ivashckenko was a first-class Prince Gremin. Though he appeared younger than usually portrayed, he masterfully conveyed poise and dignity. An effort could have been made to make him look older. Perhaps conveying a limp or carrying a walking cane would have been an appropriate prop. Thanks to his rich, warm bass as well as his elegant singing style, Ivashckenko’s interpretation of “Lyubvi vsye vozrasti pokorni” was masterfully effective.
Irish Canadian tenor Michael Colvin was a superlative Monsieur Triquet. Heard earlier this year in Dialogues des carmélites in Valencia, Colvin is a superb character tenor. His shaggy red wig and gauche deportment helped make him the convincing elderly French tutor of Tatyana and Olga. Tchaikovsky wrote Triquet’s aria “A cette fête conviés, de celle dont le jour est fêté... Brillez, toujours, belle Tatiana” mostly in French. Traditionally, it has been the speciality of French character tenors, who sing it with a delicious sense of elocution (a clin d’œil to singing easily understandable French to his Russian audience at Tatyana’s party). Yet in this production, the couplet in Russian wasn’t sung. Colvin’s rendition of this aria was delightful thanks to his excellent French and singing style. Few non‑native speakers can sing and interpret this aria as well.
Hungarian-Canadian mezzo Kristina Szabó portrayed a rather young Madame Larina, Tatyana’s and Olga’s mother. Unfortunately, this usually excellent singer did not seem at ease in this role. Her diction was among the least convincing of the cast. For some reason, she portrayed an overly high strung Larina. In contrast, American mezzo Emily Treigle was a stupendous Filipyevna, the family’s old nurse, thanks to her impressive rich mezzo as well as her acting abilities.
Italian conductor Speranza Scappucci showed a strong affinity for Tchaikovsky, avoiding excessive pathos by eschewing an overly slow tempo, exaggerating the opera’s sentimentality. As is usually the case, the Canadian Opera Company Chorus were well‑prepared and displayed more than adequate Russian, a language they rarely sing.
Alas, an Onegin without an appropriate Onegin cannot be described as a success, for the title role is as pivotal to the opera as Violetta is to La traviata. Despite a mostly excellent cast, a competent conductor and Carsen’s brilliant staging, this was sadly a forgettable performance of one of my favourite operas.
Ossama el Naggar
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