Nature is given star billing in Barrie Kosky’s staging of Eugene Onegin for Komische Oper Berlin. Designer Rebecca Ringst’s set is a swath of grass so luxuriantly verdant it drips over the edge of the stage. There is plenty of opportunity to appreciate its beauty: the meadow, like its forest backdrop, is omnipresent throughout the production. Tatyana’s bedroom letter scene, her subsequent dismissal by Onegin, her name-day ball all play out on the greenery. Even the grand St Petersburg interior of the finale is quickly, and somewhat precariously, dismantled mid-action so that Tatyana and Onegin’s final confrontation takes place back in the meadow where they first met.
Artfully lit by Franck Evin, it’s undoubtedly beautiful to look at and cleverly done, but for my taste there’s something slightly monotonous about the production, which at times feels too clever for its own good. This weakens the emotional impact of the drama for all its visual appeal.
Tchaikovsky, like Pushkin, might have named his opera after its antihero, but Kosky’s production makes clear that the psychodrama really belongs to its heroine. Tatyana is present on stage almost throughout, even at moments where she would not normally be involved in the action. In Edinburgh, this interpretation was strengthened by an astonishing central performance from Lithuanian soprano Asmik Grigorian. She captures the vulnerability and impetuosity of the young Tatyana, developing from initial awkwardness to throbbing, chest-beating emotionality in the letter scene. Allied with a voice that combines power and beauty, this is an utterly riveting performance, completed by her metamorphosis into self-possessed society beauty in the final act.
Beside Grigorian’s luminosity, the other leads somewhat paled in comparison. As Onegin, Günter Papendell overdid the haughty ennui in the opening acts, although he was far more engaging as the impassioned lover of the final scene. Oleksiy Palchykov is a sweet-toned, although somewhat underpowered Lensky. There are fine performances in the smaller roles, particularly Dmitry Ivashchenko as a youthful, lyrical Gremin and Margarita Nekrasova’s dark-toned Filippyevna, with solid support from conductor Ainārs Rubiķis and the orchestra of Komische Oper Berlin.
At Festival theatre, Edinburgh, until 17 August.
