British Youth Opera at the Peacock Theatre

13th September 2006

There are few opera companies on which you can truly rely to give an excellent performance every time. This is not really a criticism: for a company even of the stature of the Royal Opera House, there are too many things that could go wrong. ‘Star vehicles’ might be a great success at the Box Office, but are not always satisfactory to the audience members who are not fans of that particular star. Singers can have bad days; directors’ experiments can go horribly wrong - and sometimes a production is simply not to one’s taste.

Such problems, however, don’t seem to exist at British Youth Opera. It is probably an advantage that there are no stars demanding to sing roles that should really not be in their repertoire, but that is one of the few advantages this company has. They are restricted to young singers who are either still studying, or have recently graduated. This cuts down the choice of singers immeasurably. Also, there are a number of operatic roles that are extemely difficult, both in terms of musical and dramatic challenges. Many such characters exist in Yevgeny Onegin. Considering that so few established baritones can truly make sense of Onegin’s transformation from indifference to love, and that so few sopranos can sing the whole of the Letter Scene without becoming slightly tired (although, to be fair, Tatyana has been writing the letter all night, so fatigue is actually quite understandable), I did approach this production with some degree of concern.

There was no need to worry. I am uncertain whether British Youth Opera chooses the singers to suit the opera, or the opera to suit the singers, but every singer was astonishingly well-cast. If one didn’t warm to George von Bergen’s Onegin quite as quickly as Tatyana did, one could not but admire his vocal command of the role, and at least he made the character intriguing, rather than (as happens far too often) simply dislikeable. And, from the duel onwards, it was impossible not to feel sympathy, as he changed from someone completely in control of his emotions to being quite overwhelmed by them.

Tatyana was also given a very interesting characterisation in an extraordinary performance by Katrina Broderick. Miss Broderick has a phenomenal voice, more than equal to the demands of the Letter Scene, and, of such power, one feels she could sing Isolde (though one would emphatically not recommend it at this stage). At the beginning of the opera, Miss Broderick’s Tatyana appeared happy, well-adjusted, and confident. When Onegin arrived, she initiated a flirtation. It was not until after his rejection that she turned into the shy, withdrawn child we usually see in this opera. Three years later, as Gremin’s wife, she had regained her poise, if not her carefree nature.

This provokes an interesting comparison with Olga, here sung in heavily accented but perfectly comprehensible English by Clara Mouriz. Olga did appear the happier and the more lively sister, but she took her liveliness very much to an extreme, with the result that she also seemed, paradoxically, very much the dreamier of the sisters. She possibly socialised more than Tayana, but with very little idea of reality. This, of course, accounts most satisfactorily for her problems in the second act.

Shaun Dixon sang very well as Lensky, and was particularly strong in his second-act aria. There was also a good performance from Vuyani Mlinde (also BYO’s Commendatore) as Prince Gremin. All the young singers who were cast in the role of characters much older than them were successful, including Catherine Hopper as Madame Larina and particularly Sigruthur Osk Kristjansdottir. I do hope the spelling of this lady’s first name is correct. The letter which I have replaced with ‘th’ does not appear on my keyboard, but it looks like the phonetic symbol of the voiced ‘th’ sound, so I have made a possibly inaccurate guess. Eliot Alderman’s Monsieur Triquet and Jonathan Sells’ stern Zaretsky also stood out. They were well-supported by Gareth John (Singing Worker), Damian Carter (Captain Petrovich) and Philip Spendley (Guillot).

Tom Rogers’ sets made no attempt to be anything other than illuminating, and were consequently very effective. Certain decisions, such the forest’s-worth of paper that fell from the ceiling at the close of the Letter Scene, were rather a surprise, but they did not impede the action in any way.

I do, however, feel that director William Kerley allowed too many books to be thrown around the room. Before the pieces of paper filled Tatyana’s bedroom, she had knocked over a stack of books, an action that I had been uncomfortably anticipating for some time, despite not being generally very adept at making such connections. There was also an unfortunate moment when Tatyana tore one of Onegin’s letters up and dropped the pieces on his head. This was not only an unnecessarily aggressive action towards a gentleman who was already unhappy, but it created a rather inappropriate moment of humour when one of the pieces stuck to his hair, and remained there for some time. However, the tension on the stage had been extremely unsettling, and a few moments’ respite from that was welcome. Of course, it was no time at all before the amusement faded, and the audience was once more engrossed by this superbly executed scene.

Barry Tone

primi-divi at hotmail.co.uk