Scottish Opera: Tchaikovsky’s Heroines & Heroes
Usher Hall, Edinburgh, 10/12/25
The Orchestra of Scottish Opera, Stuart Stratford (conductor), Lauren Fagan (soprano), Natalia Kutateladze (mezzo-soprano), Robert Lewis (tenor); Josef Jeongmeen Ahn, Daniel Barrett (baritones).
From time to time, I have had the pleasure of reporting on themed, curated “concert compilations” of operatic goodies presented by the Orchestra of Scottish Opera with a handful of vocal soloists, including the ‘French Collection’ in March of last year and the ‘Strauss Collection’ this year, both curated and conducted by Music Director Stuart Stratford. The Usher Hall on the night of 10th December was the venue for latest such concert, titled ‘Tchaikovsky’s Heroines & Heroes’. Just three of Tchaikovsky’s operas were represented in the programme. Two numbers from ‘The Maid of Orleans’ (1881) opened the concert and were followed by a duet and Scene from his last opera ‘Iolanta’ (1892). The second half was devoted to chronological highlights from his 1879 masterpiece (and my favourite) ‘Eugene Onegin’. The vocal soloists comprised Australian soprano Lauren Fagan, Georgian mezzo Natalia Kutateladze (SO debut), Welsh tenor Robert Lewis (SO debut), Korean baritone Josef Jeongmeen Ahn (a wily Malatesta in SO ‘Don Pasquale’ a year ago), and Scottish baritone Daniel Barrett (SO Emerging Artist, stunning in the comedy double bill earlier this year as muleteer Ramiro in ‘L’heure espagnole’ and Grigory Stepanovich Smirnov in ‘The Bear’). Stuart Stratford curated, conducted and, after the ‘Maid of Orleans’ numbers, introduced the rest of the programme.
The concert opened with Natalia Kutateladze as Joan of Arc in the Act I aria ‘Da, chas nastal!’ (Yes, the time has come), in which she realises that the news that Orleans has been besieged means that she must now renounce her safe peaceful rural life and answer the divine call to lead her people to victory. Nobody portrays musically the path to self-knowledge through internal emotional struggle quite like Tchaikovsky, and this aria is a prime example. Tchaikovsky’s orchestra adds an extra layer of intense realism to the emotion and, as ever, this is where Orchestra of Scottish Opera excelled. Natalia’s mezzo instrument has depth and power throughout her considerable tonal and dynamic range (fully exploited by this aria) and it was an intense and moving performance, the first of many of the evening. Worthy of mention too were some particularly fine contributions of instrumental colour in dialogue with the vocalist from Sue Baxendale’s horn, Kirstie Logan’s cor anglais and Amy Turner’s oboe. Sue and Amy are visiting tutors at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland.
For the other excerpt from ‘Maid of Orleans’, we jumped to Act IV. Joan has defeated Lionel of Burgundy in battle, but spared his life, enchanted by his beauty. When she was challenged to affirm her vow of chastity, she was silent. She no longer commands the loyalty of the citizens or the army and is alone in a wood. Turbulent orchestral colour reflects her mood. Again, she struggles with her emotions: has she really forsworn divine love in favour of earthly romantic love? When Lionel (Josef Jeongmeen Ahn) arrives (lovely clarinet solo from Kate McDermott) and declares his love for her, their duet leaves us in no doubt: their passionate mutual devotion is absolute and all-consuming. And doomed. The English army is approaching. He will be slain and she will be captured. Natalia, Josef and the orchestra made this torrent of emotion real. At the end, the two voices blending in harmony was exquisite. The violins soaring were the icing on the cake.
Stuart Stratford then addressed the audience. Rather than talk about how he himself felt about Tchaikovsky’s operas and characters, he said, he wanted to talk about what is known about Tchaikovsky’s own ideas. Stuart studied conducting in St Petersburg under Ilya Musin, who was aged 92 in 1995. When Stuart was leading a Sitzprobe of the score of Eugene Onegin, with 2 pianos and student soloists, in preparation for a performance in Siberia, Musin was dissatisfied with his overly tragic-operatic reading and told him of what he himself had learnt in his youth from Mariya Klimentova, who had been the first Tatyana in the 1879 premiere with students of Moscow Conservatoire. Tchaikovsky did not want any histrionics. He didn’t even want the work to be called an ‘opera’, calling it ‘lyric scenes’ instead. He wanted youth, simplicity and sincerity to characterise the acting, while the music would reveal the inner emotional state of the characters. A fascinating insight and rather thrilling, is it not, that Stuart is only 3 degrees of separation from Tchaikovsky himself?
In the Third Scene of Tchaikovsky’s last opera, the one-act ‘Iolanta’, Robert, Duke of Burgundy (Josef again), and his friend Count Vaudémont (Robert Lewis) have arrived at King René’s castle. The King’s daughter, Iolanta (Lauren Fagan), has been blind from birth and confined to a secluded garden where she has been kept ignorant of the fact that she is a princess and that she is missing the experience of light, colour and sight. The Duke is betrothed to her, but has never met her, already has a sweetheart back home and has no intention of honouring the arrangement. The men blunder into the garden (ignoring the ‘Keep Out’ signs) and are enchanted by it. Vaudémont sees Iolanta asleep and is immediately smitten. Robert warns him against getting too close to this (unknown) fey creature and heads off to “get help”. The commotion causes Iolanta to wake and, attracted to the kind stranger, offers him a “red rose” as a keepsake. but gives him two white ones in succession. Vaudémont realises she is blind. At first, he is saddened by the fact that she will never appreciate the beauty revealed by light, the “firstborn of Creation”, but her appreciation of the fragrance of flowers and birdsong is all the greater. They complement each other and are drawn together. The orchestral music is very much the same music of magic and enchantment that permeates the ‘Nutcracker’. The vocal duet of the lovers is in much the same vein and was delightful, with a big happy finish. This was a first hearing for me of both Lauren and Robert and, undeniably pleasurable though the experience was, it served to whet my appetite for the Onegin excerpts that were to follow after the interval.
The first of the five excerpts from ‘Eugene Onegin’ was the Quartet from Act I, Scene I. The two Larin sisters, Tatyana (Lauren) and Olga (Natalia), are visited at their family’s country estate by Olga’s devoted fiancé, the poet Lensky (Robert), who is accompanied by his friend from the city, Onegin (Josef), who has recently moved to an inherited nearby estate. The quartet delivers some plot and character portraits. We learn that Lensky and Olga have grown up together, that Onegin is already bored with life in the country and surprised that his soulful friend was attracted to the extrovert, flirtatious Olga rather than the more complex daydreaming reader of romantic fiction, Tatyana. We also learn that Tatyana is smitten with the narcissistic newcomer, a fact of which he is unaware, even as he recalls that he too used to be a romantic.
It is unthinkable that Tatyana’s ‘Letter Aria’ from Act I, Scene ii, would fail to make the cut, and of course it did not so fail. She resolves to pour out her feelings in a letter to Onegin, but almost immediately struggles with doubts about how to express them faithfully and how he will react. Yet another Tchaikovsky aria portraying an internal emotional struggle and, I don’t mind revealing, as far as I am concerned, his best and my favourite. Lauren caught every nuance of Tatyana’s turmoil, her doubt and her determination, and at last a serenity with the knowledge that, whatever happens and whether she dares to send it or not, she has written the letter she had to write. Tchaikovsky’s orchestral sounds mirror and amplify these emotions. I have written before that nobody plays for voices quite like the Orchestra of Scottish Opera and once again they proved me right. As good as it gets.
Scene iii of Act I and Scene i of Act II were omitted from the excerpting, comprising (respectively) Onegin’s answer to Tatyana and the collapse of his friendship with Lensky. The former: he is not the “marrying sort” and can offer only friendship, advising her to be less emotionally open in the future – she is devastated by what she sees as his cruelty. The latter: irked by overheard gossip when he dances with Tatyana at a ball, Onegin flirts with Olga instead, inflaming Lensky’s jealousy to the point where he renounces their friendship and challenges Onegin to a duel.
No less indispensable than the ‘Letter Aria’ is ‘Lensky’s Aria’ from Act II, Scene ii. In the next excerpt, we got the aria and the Duel Scene. The aria, sung while waiting with his second Zaretsky (Daniel Barrett in a disapproving cameo role) for Onegin to show up late, is one of loss and bitter regret. His youth is no more than a distant memory. His jealousy has lost him Onegin’s friendship and may even have cost him Olga’s affection. If he dies, will she mourn him? If he kills Onegin, will the Larins forgive him? Robert made the melancholy and the heartache real, the orchestra framing the rueful soliloquy as effectively as with the ‘Letter Aria’. With nonchalance that irks the stickler Zaretsky, Onegin shows up second-less and nominates his valet. It is clear from a brief uneasy duet that neither of the erstwhile friends has the stomach for a duel, but neither is willing to lose face by backing out either. A timpani stroke resounds the fatal shot. Zaretsky confirms that Lensky is dead.
An orchestral interlude that has earned a life outside the opera house is the Polonaise from Act III, where it is danced at a high-society ball in St Petersburg 6 years after the events of Act II. We heard a stylish concert performance of the piece, similar to one of the beefier character dances found in the ballets. Always a joy.
In the opera, Onegin has spent the 6 years wandering around Europe trying to forget the tragic events and outrun his guilt and is at last back in St Petersburg. At the ball, he sees Tatyana, now married to a prince, elegant, beautiful, admired and respected, with aristocratic and noble bearing. She also sees him. Memories are rekindled. This time it is he who writes a letter, pouring his heart out.
The final excerpt was the Final Scene of Act III. Tatyana agrees to meet Onegin and he is admitted to her presence. He declares his love and pleads for her forgiveness. At first she remains aloof and asks why he is now interested in her – is it because of her social standing? He denies cynical motives and declares his devotion. She relents and admits that she has never stopped loving him. But she is married now and will not dishonour her marriage vows, asking that he leave and never return. His devastation is confirmed by the final orchestral cascade with brass prominent. Lauren and Josef, abetted by the orchestra and Stuart’s insight, found the perfect blend of control and rawness. Excellent. And yes, Eugene Onegin is still my favourite Tchaikovsky opera, even if Onegin is a bit of an anti-hero for modern tastes.