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The Queen of Spades (Pique Dame )
“The superior artistry came from Gerald Finley, an immaculate Yeletsky.” The Telegraph
“Gerald Finley brings a touch of pure vocal luxury to the role.” Bloomberg
“Gerald Finley is on peak form, a suave Yeletsky.” The Stage
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Composer |
Pyotr Tchaikovsky |
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Libretto |
Modest Tchaikovsky after Pushkin’s novella |
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Venue and Dates |
The Royal Opera, Covent Garden, London |
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Conductor |
Semyon Bychkov |
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Director |
Francesca Zambello |
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Performers |
Gherman: Vladimir Galouzine
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Production |
Julia Pevzner: Associate Director Peter J. Davison: Sets |
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Notes |
Role debuts for Gerald Finley and Mlada Khudoley |
Click here to see a video clip from the Royal Opera House explaining some of the rationale behind this production
What the critics say
Dominic McHugh for MusicOMH.com
Pushkin's tale of obsession with money and love provided Tchaikovsky with the perfect basis for his penultimate opera, The Queen of Spades. Fate dominates this opera as it does in other nineteenth-century stage works, particularly Carmen - and it shares something of that masterpiece's psychological intensity.
By coincidence, Queen of Spades's director Francesca Zambello is also taking on the Royal Opera's new production of Carmen in December, and the first night's electrifying performance suggested that we could have something special to look forward to.
As for the Tchaikovsky, Zambello seems to understand the aching heart of Russia that lies behind much of the literature and art to come from that country, and she expresses it in this production by setting the opera in perpetual winter. There are moments of light in the opening scene, when children charmingly play in the park. But once the chorus' umbrellas go up to shield themselves from the thunderstorm, the weather is persistently cold and snowy.
In many ways this is the ideal background for the tale of the psychological disintegration of Gherman, an officer. He sacrifices his love for Liza, ward of the sinister Countess, for the secret of winning at cards. The Countess knows the secret, but dies before revealing it to Gherman, returning to him as a ghost to tell him the secret and to marry Liza. Instead, he ignores Liza and rushes straight to the gaming tables, and loses both his lover and his money.
A tree on a snow-covered hill overshadows Peter J. Davison's set for the second half of the evening, abandoning the literal and elegant settings of the first half for a more metaphorical backdrop. This takes a little getting used to, but in the end seems to suit the increasingly raw emotion of the score. Nicky Gillibrand's costumes are extraordinarily beautiful, as is Mark McCullough's atmospheric lighting, and Vivienne Newport's choreography provided an inventive and entertaining realisation of the neo-classical divertissements of Act 2, Scene 1.
But what marked the evening out as special was the musical performance. Russian tenor Vladimir Galouzine's Gherman was the best thing I've heard since the opening of the season: a well-projected, expressive, giving performance, and it helped that his pronunciation of the language is so natural. Mlada Khudoley was beautiful of voice and person as Liza, full-blooded in attack, and again it was wonderful to hear Russian sung by a native speaker.
For many, the attraction of the revival was the role debut of Gerald Finley as Prince Yeletsky, Liza's fiancé. His phrasing is extremely elegant and he acts the aristocrat to perfection, though he could not really steal the limelight from Galouzine. It was a treat to hear the great Russian mezzo Larissa Diadkova as the ghostly Countess, and company favourites Robin Leggate, Jeremy White and Elizabeth Sikora provided vivid character roles.
But what stood out of the evening was the exceptional conducting of Semyon Bychkov, leading the orchestra and chorus in one of the most lively and secure musical performances of the season so far. His tempi were ideal, the phrasing was lyrical and the drama was taut. What more could one ask for? It was inspirational and memorable.
Anthony Holden for The Observer, November 19 2006
http://arts.guardian.co.uk/reviews/observer/story/0,,1951639,00.html
Oh no, not that snowdrift again. A majestic performance of The Queen of Spades has one great singer, one great flaw.
The central character in Tchaikovsky's The Queen of Spades is a gambler who fatally puts the cards before the love of his life. Last time around, he was played by Placido Domingo, a great actor who can also sing a bit. The main reason for revisiting Francesca Zambello's flamboyant Covent Garden staging is the arrival in the role of the remarkable Russian tenor Vladimir Galouzine, who puts even Domingo in the shade.
Despite being made to act like a moody student, a bespectacled stalker hanging around for a glimpse of the girl of his impossible dreams, Galouzine's Gherman dominates the stage throughout. By the standards of most tenors, his is a commanding, resonant voice; driven by Semyon Bychkov's bravura conducting, he hurls himself into his arias and duets with such passionate conviction as to overshadow all around him but Larissa Diadkova's formidably scary Countess. The third Russian principal, Mlada Khulodey in her Royal Opera debut as Lisa, is reduced by both to a simpering cardboard cutout; even our own Gerald Finley's Yeletsky, for all the beauty of his great aria, becomes little more than a strutting cipher.
Amid her wacky characterisations, Zambello's production values are grandiose: the alfresco opening scene and the engagement ball are lavish enough to remind us that this is Covent Garden, home of the grandest of grand opera. But the good news is that the giant snowdrift which was hitherto onstage throughout, indoors or out, has vanished.
Until the interval. Then it returns - yes, even in the Countess's action-packed bedroom, then the casino. But at least we've been spared it thus far. Last time around, with heart in mouth as Domingo precariously clambered all over the damned thing, I complained volubly about this supremely silly designer intrusion. Its disappearance, at least for the first half, is almost enough to make me think someone is listening.
Queen of Spades makes a welcome return
By Fiona Maddocks, Evening Standard 14.11.06
Francesca Zambello's staging of Tchaikovsky's Queen of Spades has returned to Covent Garden with a degree more clarity than when new in 2001.
Many of the discontinuities caused by Peter J Davison's inside-outside set, a Winter Palace so responsive to nature that a heap of snow appears in the ballroom, have been minimised. Too often though the over-laden visuals distract from the terrifying claustrophobia of the piece.
The cast has a new Liza, Russian soprano Mlada Khudoley, who reserved her potent best for her pre-suicide outpouring. Until then her portrayal had felt stiff and over-reliant on stomach clutching to convey inner torment.
Another newcomer is Gerald Finley as Prince Yeletsky. He gets the top aria, a declaration of selfless love, which he delivered with unforced control and tenderness. Who could stay dry-eyed?
Larissa Diadkova's Countess, exuding imperious glamour and with burnished low notes, and Enkelejda Shkosa's fruity Paulina, shone in a strong line-up. Chorus and orchestra, with low woodwind and brass, were in responsive form under the direction of an eloquent Semyon Bychkov.
But this opera stands or falls by its Gherman, a lover and gambler whose obsessions collide into madness. It's hard to imagine a better interpreter than Vladimir Galouzine, looking like Schubert on his winter journey - a half-dazed, bespectacled stranger who yields to depressive self-destruction. His voice is full-toned and molten. Never mind reservations, for Galouzine this Queen of Spades is unmissable.
Erica Jeal for The Guardian, November 14, 2006
http://arts.guardian.co.uk/reviews/story/0,,1947051,00.html
Four stars out of five
The last time we heard the Russian tenor Vladimir Galouzine at Covent Garden, as Calaf in Turandot early last year, his idea of a relaxing night off during the run was to pop over to the Paris Opera to belt through Verdi's Otello. It showed. This time, in his signature role of Tchaikovsky's tortured Gherman, he's not just on form - he's sensational.
Galouzine doesn't really sound like a tenor, or a baritone; he just has a voice, which goes up or down as far as you could wish without losing its intense ring or richness. Gherman is its perfect vehicle. His first short aria is so hefty, so impassioned, that you think he must have laid all his cards on the table; but there's plenty more to come as he outlines the character's plummet into madness. That's even though the conception of Gherman here as a bespectacled, bewildered tramp, lurking like a teacher with a crush on a pupil, does nobody any favours.
The only singer who doesn't pale beside Galouzine is Larissa Diadkova, inspired casting as a terrifying Countess, her fruity mezzo lending colour and authority to a role usually taken by sopranos of more than a certain age. Mlada Khulodey, in her debut here as Lisa, is a wan heroine by comparison, and the usually excellent Gerald Finley is miscast as Yeletsky, finding the high notes of his gorgeous aria a strain; he would be better swapping roles with Vassily Gerello, singing Tomsky.
Semyon Bychkov draws some thrillingly dark, brooding sounds from the orchestra, but Francesca Zambello's staging remains problematic, aiming for old-fashioned grandeur with a twist, yet confusing the story rather than illuminating it. This isn't a fully joined-up opera performance. But for Galouzine alone, it's unmissable.
Evan Dickerson for Seen and Heard (performance on 11 November 2006)
http://www.musicweb-international.com/sandh/2006/Jul-Dec06/spades1111.htm
I understand why the public takes Eugene Onegin to its heart with greater readiness than it does The Queen of Spades, nonetheless I feel Onegin to be the weaker work when all is said and done. There is barely a melody in Onegin that is not memorable or a dramatic opportunity that is left unexploited. The Queen of Spades contains less outwardly memorable melodies perhaps, but is in no way short of drama: Pushkin’s literary source sees to that. The crux of the issue is, however, in the nature of the drama and the influence it exerted on Tchaikovsky in composing the opera. The work paints a view of obsession’s self-destructive nature in several of its aspects, yet it would be a mistake to think the work totally doom-laden. The courtly masque in Act II serves to lighten the mood at least temporarily, though it bears little relation to the main thrust of the plot.
Just as Tchaikovsky and his brother Modest took some liberties with Pushkin’s original story, so this production took liberties with the staging of the opera as a whole. Ostensibly placed within a grand theatre setting, the stage is flanked by ornate boxes from which the action is occasionally observed and commented upon. The intended impression of grandeur would have been realised more strongly had the fabric of the set been better finished: the lighting often exposed the structural scaffolding, which could have easily been masked. Other visual oddities presented themselves within the on-stage theatre: a snow drift (ostensibly to aid the entrance of characters) and an incongruously sited gambling den.
Quite why such decisions were taken does not really become clear as the evening progresses, and given that half of the experience of live opera is in the seeing of it one is entitled to ask why one sees what one does on stage. The question is urgent, given the opera has received indifferent stagings by major UK companies: Glyndebourne too seemed unwilling to give the work its due in the 1990s. More pressing in respect of this Covent Garden production is the fact that a top-notch cast has been assembled, and surely they deserve better.
Vladimir Galouzine’s renown in the role of Gherman precedes him, and he is currently the role’s leading exponent. As strong of voice as of acting skill he vividly portrays the gnawing effects of obsession upon human mind, psyche and body. The effectiveness of the portrayal though would only be somewhat realised without an equally strong Countess who keeps the secret of the winning cards. Larissa Diadkova’s Countess is not just one of hautiness, but acutely aware of the power of her secret. Old, world-weary, hers is a life that has been eaten away at by obsessive guarding of her knowledge. In death she divulges the secret to seal Gherman’s downfall, and this supernatural act was a highlight in terms of vocal resourcefulness.
Liza, Gherman’s ill fated lover, was affectionately portrayed by Mlada Khudoley, the difficult music sung with confidence and style. The realisation that the love she feels for Gherman will never be reciprocated made one feel for Liza as a character more than any other factor. Gerald Finley held his own as Prince Yeletsky with fine singing and sureness of line, even if his tone lacked some authentic Russian bite when compared to other voices around him. Vassily Gerello’s Count Tomsky is a prime example of a real Russian baritone, flexible of voice yet firm. In short, impressive singing that sits well alongside his very macho acting of the part.
Fine singing though found its complement in the pit, with Semyon Bychkov’s sensitive and astute conducting bringing out requisite drama from the score, to which the orchestra certainly responded. As much a part of Bychkov’s realisation was acknowledgement of the part that Tchaikovsky’s frequent sparse orchestration plays in the opera. That he found much of power to say in the more intimate moments when quieter dynamics are employed says something for his musical and dramatic instincts. Indeed, of such things memorable Tchaikovsky interpretations ultimately made.
Alexander Campbell for classicalsource.com
http://www.classicalsource.com/db_control/db_concert_review.php?id=3906
This was the Royal Opera House’s “second revival of Francesca Zambello’s revised production”, first seen in 2001 conducted by Bernard Haitink, a staging that has already listed some excellent casts that have included the likes of Plácido Domingo, Karita Mattila, Thomas Allen, Josephine Barstow and the late and much-missed Susan Chilcott, not to mention Vladimir Galouzine – the original Gherman, here reprising his performance.
This revival has several trumps in its playing hand and Galouzine in certainly one of them. The role is one of the most demanding in the repertory, requiring not only stamina and good vocalism but wide ranging dramatic talent and Galouzine has all those attributes. And to make it work totally it is always better if the singer is a Russian! Galouzine is tireless, and sings the part with full-throated lyricism when needed in the duets with Liza, but also excels in the more declamatory passages where Gherman’s single-minded obsession with the Countess and the three cards is musically delineated. Perhaps a slight beat intrudes at forte more than it used to – but it remains a compelling vocal performance and so much more satisfying than his forays into Puccini for example. He is one of those actors who can hold a stage and make his presence felt even when on the margins of it and the action. His charting of Gherman’s mental and physical deterioration is very believable, even in this production where he seems halfway to madness as the curtain opens.
The luxury casting of Larissa Diadkova as the Countess is also a masterstroke. In many of the big opera houses of the world in the last decade or so this part has been given to divas in the twilight of their careers; those who can steal the scenes and can vocally get by but whose voices have sometimes seen better days. Not here! Diadkova is a real Russian contralto with an unbelievably rich lower register that can be beguiling or stentorian as the need arises; and she remains her absolute prime. What a treat to hear the part truly sung. She is also an operatic diva with something of the ‘old-school’ about her in that her acting is rather amplified and broad-stroke – just what this part needs. She was a major force in the drama from her first entrance, with her posture and face telling you all you needed to know about the character, and her powerful voice registered in the peculiar harmonic textures of the first quintet in the opening scene. That she could then deliver her famous Grétry aria on such a thin sliver of sound but still imbue those low notes with all the velvety tone that is her trademark was remarkable. The audience responded by listening with rapt attention and in real silence.
As the only non-Russian in the principal line up Gerald Finley held his own and gave a honeyed account of Prince Yeletsky’s aria – beautiful legato and mellow tone, with a ringing top as well. He acted the part well, too. Vassily Gerello’s Tomsky was also finely sung and presented the genial side of this character. If a dimension was missing it was the slightly sinister and Machiavellian aspect of the character that others have brought to the role in other productions.
The Royal Opera’s other lucky card is the orchestra and conductor. Semyon Bychkov conducted an energetic account of the score, and certainly did not dawdle or over-romanticise Tchaikovsky’s lush and conventionally operatic moments. Instead much of the drama was played out in the pit – with lean and at times almost astringent textures and a propulsive quality that moved the action forward. The brass was on especially fine form and the strings particularly so when wistfully accompanying Diadkova in her aria. Bychkov is also very considerate to the singers who one felt never were competing with the pit but rather were truly integrated within the orchestral palette.
Militating against all this musical excellence is Francesca Zambello’s curiously unsatisfying production, which does not improve with repeated viewing. It seems hamstrung by its overblown sets (admittedly beautifully lit) and some gimmicky effects. To have theatre boxes stuck to one side of the stage and then have major characters appearing in them as part of the action when at least one-third of the house will be unable to see them seems rather perverse. To then add a steeply angled snowdrift up against the boxes upon which characters seem nervous to move about on, and which obliterates about a third of the stage floor space seems equally strange. Zambello’s usual theatrical flair also seems to have deserted her for this production as the claustrophobic and melodramatic aspects of the story are very much muted.
Does the production allow one to really feel complicit in the goading of Gherman by Tomsky, Chekalinsky and Surin, to feel for Liza’s predicament, to care about Yeletsky’s betrayal by Liza? One can admire the performers, but the dramatic impact that can be there is missing. Strange, when some of her great productions are of Russian works – think of her “Khovanshchina”, and her fantastic “War and Peace” at the Bastille in Paris.
This lack of dramatic coherence particularly seemed to affect the Liza of this revival, Mlada Khudoley. She has an attractive presence and a rather Slavic-sounding voice that has a very firm middle register. At the top, particularly early in the evening, she showed a tendency to be a little unruly and unfocussed, and as such her Act One aria did not quite make the impact it could have. By the time of her final aria she seemed more in her stride, though her death was rather perfunctorily enacted. It seemed she might be over-parted, but her biography states she not only sings Salome, but also Senta and Renata – two notorious voice-wrecking roles. One hopes this is not a case of too much too soon.
Mention should be made of some of the important secondary roles. Enkelejda Shkosa delivered a mellow account of Paulina’s music, battling in her first aria with a mobile phone, but sprightly in Milovzor’s music in the masque. Messrs White and Leggate made their presence felt, and Elizabeth Sikora made more of the part of Masha the maid than one would have thought possible (she also doubled as the non-singing Catherine the Great).
This revival of “The Queen of Spades” should be heard for Bychkov’s interpretation and musical performance and especially for Diadkova, Galouzine and Finley. The production is not one of the best, but if you go sit in the centre or to the left-hand side of the auditorium if you wish to see it all!
David Gutman, The Stage 15 November 2006
http://www.thestage.co.uk/reviews/review.php/14878/the-queen-of-spades
Francesca Zambello’s glitzy production, at different times a vehicle for Karita Mattila, Placido Domingo et al, returns with a balanced, mainly Russian cast that may just be the best we have had. Larissa Diadkova excels in the small but key role of the aged Countess - her old crone can actually sing. Vladimir Galouzine is back as a vivid if oddly-costumed Gherman - he’s meant to be an army officer - commanding the stage with his sensational heavy tenor. Occidental interloper, Gerald Finley is on peak form, a suave Yeletsky. Vassily Gerello offers us a game, experienced Tomsky. Mlada Khudoley makes a successful house debut as Liza, believable as the Countess’ ward, unusual in looking and sounding her character’s age. Semyon Bychkov gets idiomatic and refined results from the orchestra.
Visually though, the evening is messy. Peter J Davison’s much-criticized single set design, intended to project key tropes from what is after all a surrealistic tale, has lost its defining central bank of unmelting snow. Defying the march of the seasons, this now appears only in the show’s second half. There remains the general suggestion of a ruined palace, some attractive props and costumes and a stack of theatrical loges stage right to point up the artificiality of it all. It isn’t clear that the heroine commits suicide and we’ve little sense of context for the final card game. There are too many would-be picturesque crowd scenes while the general air of designed decay fails to suggest a society on the brink - or anything else in particular.
The Queen of Spades, Royal Opera House, London
Richard Fairman for The Financial Times, November 13 2006
http://www.ft.com/cms/s/fd9edbcc-7338-11db-9bac-0000779e2340.html
It is frightening how Tchaikovsky’s music can look inside the mind. The central characters in his operas are laid out before us like patients on a psychiatrist’s couch, none more devastatingly than poor Gherman in The Queen of Spades, the army officer addicted to a hopeless love and the fatal lure of gambling.
Release its pent-up intensity and this is the most powerful of all Tchaikovsky’s operas. To succeed, it needs a production that is able to relate the turmoil in Gherman’s mind to the real events going on around him, and a tenor with vocal and histrionic resources that go well beyond the average.
This revival of Francesca Zambello’s production gets a bit more than halfway there. The opening scenes start out innocuously enough in a rococo dream world of pastel tints and silly wigs but, as Gherman’s mental state deteriorates, the staging also goes awry. Yes, we can all play Freud and see that the huge pile of snow and the stage boxes at a slant are symbols of a mind that is askew, but why these bizarre symbols in particular?
Fortunately, Vladimir Galouzine’s portrayal of Gherman is so gripping that nobody need be bothered to look elsewhere. Peering out quizzically through his spectacles, like the twin brother of Pierre from War and Peace, he has the huge vocal heft, the stamina and an intensity that seems to burn from within: in short, he has mastered the role completely.
His Gherman was rightly dominating – although Gerald Finley as Yeletsky sang his aria so beautifully that he provided a counterweight in the world of sanity. Mlada Khudoley’s Lisa sent out appealing signs of youth and innocence, although her voice became shrill as she tired towards the end. Solid performances came from Vassily Gerello’s Tomsky and Enkelejda Shkosa’s generously sung Paulina, and rather more than that from the Countess of Larissa Diadkova, who has twice as much voice as most singers of the role. Throw in good-quality playing from the orchestra and assertive conducting from Semyon Bychkov, and this is a revival of mostly sane and sturdy values, sufficient to throw Galouzine’s powerfully unhinged Gherman into relief.
Rodney Milnes, Opera, January 2007
The Queen of Spades Royal Opera at Covent Garden, November 15
It was suggested from the very opening - that innocent sounding woodwind phrase so delicately shaped, the staccatos neatly pointed that this was going to be a rewarding evening musically, and so it proved. Semyon Bychkov inspired brilliant playing from the ROH Orchestra throughout, and especially in the second part from the scene in the Countess's bedroom onwards, when the musical screw was turned ever tighter. On the whole, Bychkov takes a grand, romantic view of the score, in contrast to, say, Jurowski's more analytical approach. Fair enough: the greater the work-and this is surely one of the greatest of all operas - the more variety of interpretation it can sustain, and Bychkov's reading was truly inspired.
Vladimir Galouzine's Herman has taken huge strides forward since he first sang the role here in 200 I. His 'bari-tenor' must be unique: I have certainly never heard anything like it in my opera-going life, and it must be depressing for mainstream baritones to be on stage with a tenor who commands more beef at the bottom than they can. He can tend to field the sound at the same level of volume and intensity, and did so in the first scene, but from the love duet onwards brought a welcome variety of colour and dynamic. His dramatic performance, too, has matured, properly brooding and alienated in the earlier scenes, simply scarifying once he has the 'secret' of the three cards, which he marked with a terrifyingly manic grin. His final three scenes were gripping.
Of the two mainstream baritones, Vassily Gerello seemed rather to have given up: for the first time in my experience Tomsky's Ballade, dully voiced, was not applauded (understandably) and his interpretation was depressingly bland. Who was this man? What was his motivation? Agent provocateur? If so, why? But Gerald Finley seemed quite unfazed, delivered Yeletsky's aria with superb musicianship on clean, warm tone, and was roundly applauded (understandably).
The new Lisa, Mlada Khudoley (house debut), fielded a tough, slightly brittle and monochrome soprano, but she has the role's scale and saved her best for her last-act aria. Her impersonation was on the bland side for someone almost as obsessive as Herman. Larissa Diadkova's Countess must be among the most beautifully sung in anyone's experience, and her acting was duly imperious. Enkelejda Shkosa sang Polina's aria with much warmth. Kishani Jayasinghe, a Jette Parker Young Artist, more than made her mark as Prilepa in the Pastorale (most winningly played), and Alasdair Elliott ensured that the Major-domo emerged as more than just a spit-and-a-cough role. The Boy Commander, Philip Sheppard, too, was a right little star. Jeremy White, working decidedly too hard, played Surin as Varlaam in quite another opera.
Francesca Zambello had returned to rehearse and slightly revise her production (the iceberg has gone from the first part, but not the second), one not to everybody's taste. 'The Queen of Spades- The Musical' was one reaction in the national press, and it is one hard to counter, especially when the dancers take the stage for Vivienne Newport's embarrassing showbiz choreography. My main reservation is that the staging seems to accept that there is a secret of the three cards, which of course there isn't. Unless we've all gone as mad as poor Herman.
Warwick Thompson for Bloomberg, 14 November 2006
http://www.bloomberg.com/apps/news?pid=20601088&sid=aN5cl4WAVcgc&refer=home
Royal Opera's `The Queen of Spades' Is Master Class in Tension
If musical skills were transferable to other media, then conductor Semyon Bychkov could probably direct thrillers to knock Hitchcock's efforts into a cocked hat.
That's how it feels when listening to his account of Tchaikovsky's ``The Queen of Spades'' at the Royal Opera in London. It's a master class in tension, with each climax building inexorably on the one before, and yet with plenty of subtle pointing of significant detail along the way.
Take the opening of Act 3, for example. The neurotic young officer Gherman has frightened an old Countess to death while trying to learn her gambling secret. He returns to his barracks, and imagines that he hears the mournful Orthodox chanting at her funeral. Bychkov places the off-stage choir so it sounds ethereal and ghostly, but doesn't allow the melancholy music to drag.
There's an off-stage military trumpet in the score, too, constantly recalling Gherman to his immediate surroundings. Bychkov places this closer to the stage to make the sound louder and more pressing, and yet he keeps it far enough away to seem equally otherworldly. The focus is thus entirely on Gherman. Are these sounds real? Are they imagined? Is he going mad? It's a perfect set up for the terrifying moment when the dead Countess reappears to him with her disastrous message.
Director Francesca Zambello (assisted by Julia Pevzner) has tightened her 2001 production, and it feels darker and juicier. She keeps the late 18th-century setting that Tchaikovsky imagined, but disturbs it by mixing up interior and exterior motifs. The set (Peter J. Davison) comprises a row of theater boxes and a wall of rococo paneling that breaks off roughly at one end, revealing stark wintry trees behind.
Gilt Trip
Zambello has got rid of a large mound of snow which was also previously heaped against the boxes. It makes the opening scenes feel freer and the lavish choreography of the Act 2 pastorale less cramped. When the mound appears after the interval -- a strange elemental encroachment into a world of gilt and plush -- its significance is now all the more forceful.
Gherman is one of Vladimir Galouzine's signature roles, and he's on top form here. His descent into monomania is paced with uncanny precision, each step a little further toward madness, and vocally he's as subtle as he is powerful. When he whispers, you lean to catch every word; but when he lets rip, it's as if a gale has been unleashed.
The petite young Russian soprano Mlada Khudoley is Gherman's doomed lover Liza. She also has a good large sound, though her acting is less secure and focused than Galouzine's. It's her Royal Opera debut, so there's a good possibility she'll feel less overwhelmed and find her feet during the run.
Larissa Diadkova, with her baritonal low notes and bitter cantankerous presence, is excellent as the Countess, and Gerald Finley brings a touch of pure vocal luxury to the role of Liza's aristocratic fiance Prince Yeletsky.
All this, and a conductor who keeps the audience on the edge of its seat too. It's a Royal Opera triumph.
Rupert Christensen, The Telegraph 16 November 2006
Francesca Zambello's production of Tchaikovsky's The Queen of Spades has been impressively revived at Covent Garden. The staging is a superficial affair, over-choreographed and heavy-handed, but Peter J Davison's sets and Nicky Gillibrand's costumes give it plenty of West End glitz, and Semyon Bychkov's magnificent conducting – rich in texture, long in melodic line and never vacuously fast or loud – is on hand to provide the emotional and psychological depth that Zambello skates over.
A superb cast was led by the barnstorming Vladimir Galouzine (Gherman) and Mlada Khudoley (Lisa), both singing cleanly and sturdily if not very subtly.
The superior artistry came from Gerald Finley, an immaculate Yeletsky, Larissa Diadkova, formidable as the Countess, and Enkelejda Shkosa, whose lovely singing of Paulina's melancholy folk song held the audience in pin-drop silence.
All curtain call photos used with kind permission of:
http://www.geraldine-curtis.me.uk/photoblog/
