ArtsEmerson does it again: Imaginative Stylish Production of Eugene Onegin
Photo: Valeriy Myasnikov. L to R in image: Eugeniya Kregzhde, Viktor Dobronravov, Alexei Guskov.
ArtsEmerson brought another exceptional international production to Boston for an all too brief run on June 6 and 7. The company was the ninety-year-old Vakhtangov State Academic Theatre of Moscow, the play, the first dramatic adaptation of Pushkin’s rhyming verse novel, Eugene Onegin. The Vakhtangov maintains a permanent company unlike theatre in the US where such troupes have almost disappeared. An important benefit of this kind of company is the often close-knit ensemble that was certainly a factor in the excellent performances in Eugene Onegin. The most striking example of reciprocal loyalty is the ninety-seven year old actress, Galina Konovalova, who joined the Vakhtangov Theatre in 1938 and plays the Moscow cousin with verve.
The play is acted in Russian, which was a joy for the large Russian audience, and a loss for those spectators who were unable to follow Pushkin’s extraordinary use of language and had to depend on the sometimes ungrammatical and misspelled supertitles. However, even for those without an understanding of Russian, the actors’ vocal skills were apparent.
Like the early nineteenth century original work, the play is largely narrated. It revolves around the eponymous egocentric hero who still in early manhood is stylishly bored. Theatre, ballet, friendships, love affairs have lost their appeal. Having spent all his money living the high life, Eugene (Viktor Dobronravov) is rescued by the fortuitous death of an uncle who leaves Onegin a country estate. Eugene’s stifling ennui is lifted slightly when befriended by Vladimir Lensky, an even younger man (Vasilly Simonov), a former student in Germany where influenced by the romanticism of Schiller and Goethe he returned an aspiring poet. Lensky is in love with pretty, coquettish Olga Larina (Mariya Volkova), the elder daughter of a neighboring family. Symbolic of her love of fun and flirtation is the accordion she wears round her neck. In one scene Lensky slips his hands under the accordion to admire and caress her breasts. The novel has him stroking her dress fabric.
At a family party Onegin attends with Lensky, Eugene sees Olga’s sister Tatyana (Eugeniya Kregzhde). More importantly, Tatyana, a reclusive girl normally given to reading and admiring the changing landscape by the window, sees Eugene and is instantly smitten. Passion transforms her. That night lying in bed, she rolls about agitatedly, happy, yet frenzied, talking nonstop to her nurse. In a burst of courage Tatyana sends Eugene a love letter revealing her feelings. He not only rejects her, but does so condescendingly. The rejection brings on a nightmare from which she emerges having lost her naiveté. The celebrated passage describing the dream in which Tatyana’s life is threatened by a bear who both attacks and rescues her is spoken by Irina Kupchenko who portrayed its emotional gamut fully.
Months pass and Onegin attends Tatyana’s name day party where, to ease his tedium, he further humiliates her by dancing and flirting with Olga, thereby betraying Lensky. The enraged Lensky arranges a duel and is killed.
Director and adapter Rimas Tuminas’ production is movement oriented and metaphorical. While adhering to Pushkin’s story, if not his ironic humor, Tuminas modified and added characters. The most innovative is Onegin’s appearance as both his younger self and the middle-aged man he has become looking back on his empty life. The younger Onegin dressed in black top hat and tails frequently approaches his older self (Alexei Guskov), to gaze silently into his future. This device is most effectively used in the duel scene; the two Onegins meld into one as they stand side-by-side each aiming the same gun peering at Lensky across the stage for a long moment before the young Eugene separates himself, crosses the stage, gun in hand and brutally shoots the unprepared Lensky.
The Wanderer, another of Tunimas’ creations, wonderfully acted by Ekaterina Kramzina, crouches beside the older Onegin for long periods playing the domra, a Russian string instrument plucked like a banjo. This crazed woman moves like an animal as she scurries about, back curved, head hanging. A mature and silent Lensky, who never came to be, is part of the same group of what might be called shades, all of whom are stage left, which is a world unto itself. Most of the narration is spoken by a Retired Hussar who stands downstage left.
Tunimas introduces dance into the production through the medium of a recurrent ballet class composed of thirteen girls, clad in nineteenth century tutus, and their teacher. At times, it is an awkward fit. The teacher (Ludmilla Maksakova) something of a hysteric, gives her classes in such heavily accented French one wonders if it was meant to be a joke. Although the director uses the classes as transitions, we never learn who or what the ballet students are supposed to represent. However, the same young performers fill in as acquaintances of Tatyana and Olga as well as moving bodies symbolic of events and emotions, a silent Greek chorus, if you will.
The simple but beautiful set, with its upstage mirror and barre is reminiscent of a ballet classroom, although this aspect is not always explicit. The dark mirror and misty bluish lights that sometimes play on the stage floor give certain scenes a dreamlike quality. Various movable set pieces and lighting turn the setting into Tatyana’s bedroom, a stage coach, a palace in Moscow, etc.
In one of the most wondrous and telling images, swings on silver chains are lowered and a group of young women – the chorus plus Tatyana sit on them and ascend. These women have accepted their adulthood and have come to Moscow to make “sensible” marriages. Tatyana descends, meets a wealthy man, and symbolically they share a bowl of honey.
After her marriage, Eugene, having realized his loss, visits her in hope of resuming their relationship. A self-assured Tatyana refuses him despite the fact that her romantic feelings have not disappeared. The play ends with Tatyana dancing with a large bear who, as in her dream, represents Eugene. The closing image of Tatyana nestled in the bear’s arms is emblematic of their strange relationship.
I had one quibble about the production. With the exception of a long bio of Rimas Tuminas, the program was insufficiently informative. Although several of the more important roles were double cast, the program did not state which actor was playing at a given performance, nor were their bios given. Boston critics were sent a specific cast list. Thus, I was able to cite who played who. The music, varied in style and period, needs a fuller explanation than the “composer’s” name. These shortcomings are an amateurish lapse in an otherwise high quality production.
Director and Adapter: Rimas Tuminas
Set Designer: Adomas Yatsovskis
Costume Designer: Maria Danilova
Composer: Faustas: Latenas
Choreographer: Angelica Kholina
Cast – principal roles
Older Onegin: Alexei Guskov
Young Onegin: Viktor Dobronravov
Retired Hussar: Vladimir Simonov
Mature Lensky: Oleg Makarov
Young Lensky: Vasiliy Simonov
Tatyana Larina: Eugeniya Kregzhde
“Tatyana’s dream”: Irina Kupchenko
Olga Larina: Mariya Volkova
Parents of Olga and Tatyana: Elena Melnikova and Aleksei Kuznetsov
Wanderer with Domra: Ekaterina Kramzina
Nanny and Dance Master: Ludmilla Maksakova
Prince Gremin, Tatyana’s husband: Yuriy Shlykov
Moscow cousin: Galina Konovalova