Tchaikovsky – Pikovaya Dama (Пиковая дама)

Herman – Arsen Soghomonyan
Count Tomsky – Andrei Kymach
Prince Yeletsky – Nikolay Zemlianskikh
Chekalinsky – Vasily Efimov
Surin – Alejandro Baliñas
Narumov – Irakli Pkhaladze
Master of Ceremonies – Antonio Lozano
Countess – Doris Soffel
Liza – Elena Guseva
Polina – Elena Maximova
Governess – Luzia Tietze
Masha/Prilepa – Laura Fleur

Escolania de la Mare de Déu dels Desemparats, Escola Coral Veus Juntes, Cor de la Generalitat Valenciana, Orquestra de la Comunitat Valenciana / James Gaffigan.
Stage director – Richard Jones.

Palau de les Arts, València.  Sunday, October 1st, 2023.

For its first new production of the 2023 – 24 season, the Palau de les Arts has imported Richard Jones’ staging of Pikovaya Dama, previously seen in Wales, Bologna and Toronto.  Alongside the superb house orchestra and chorus, Les Arts assembled an international cast featuring the astounding Arsen Soghomonyan in the central role of Herman, all under the direction of house music director, James Gaffigan. 

The staging is now 23 years old and it would be remiss to say that it isn’t now showing its age.  The sets, by John Macfarlane, are clearly designed for a touring company in their simplicity and practicality.  The Countess’ boudoir also provides the setting for the final scene, while earlier it doubles as Liza’s bedroom.  There’s a sense of decay here in the way that the walls are damaged, suggesting a world that is as damaged as the characters living within.  Jones, does give us some dark humour – the Countess’ skeleton appearing in bed with Herman at the start of Act 3 is particularly striking.  There was also a notable visual in how Herman is seen crawling on top of the roof of Liza’s bedroom before he attracts her attention through the skylight.  Above all, there’s a sense of not always knowing what’s real or what’s imagined that I found particularly convincing.

Where I found the staging less convincing was in the personenregie, tonight revived by Benjamin Davis, particularly in the management of the large choruses.  Far too often, the chorus was marched on stage from the wings and then marched back off.  Over the course of the evening, the movements of the chorus felt predictable – although in Act 3 the walking across the stage worked well as Liza desperately looked for Herman in the crowds crossing the stage.  Elsewhere, the sopranos and mezzos were asked to indulge in some random gyrations in Liza’s bedroom, and the party scene saw them randomly act out in a clichéd party way.  There was also much facing the front and gesticulating for the principals.  There were some insights, but the overwhelming sense I left with was that the staging is now rather dated.

Musically, this was at an exceptional level.  I don’t think I have enough superlatives to be able to do justice to the quality of the playing of the Orquestra de la Comunitat Valenciana tonight.  I’ve written before that València is lucky to have one of the world’s greatest opera orchestras, but tonight they soared to another level.  Gaffigan brought out a string sound of deep pile luxury, while also bringing out the haunted silkiness of the muted strings in the Countess’ boudoir as she reflected in her days in Paris.  The brass playing was exceptional, not a split note all night, ringing out into the room.  The entire evening passed in what felt like a heartbeat, the insistent rhythmic foundations pushing us towards the story’s inevitable conclusion.  Exceptional indeed, was the singing of the Cor de la Generalitat Valenciana.  The noise they made at the entry of the Tsarina was absolutely massive, yet there’s no war of vibratos here.  Instead, the tone is so firm and well balanced, with the tuning excellent in those unaccompanied chorales. 

Soghomonyan gave us a massive-voiced Herman, riding the orchestral tumult with ease. The voice rises from a baritonal middle to a bright and shining top that penetrates the house thrillingly.  Yet, he was also unafraid to pull back on the volume, shading his initial duet with Liza with loving care.  That ability to pour out streams of huge tone into the house, came into its own as we witnessed Herman’s gradual disintegration, Soghomonyan using dynamics intelligently to bring that disintegration to life. 

Elena Guseva sang Liza with selfless generosity.  Her soprano has a striking metal at the core, surrounded by a fast vibrato.  There is a tendency for a bit of chalkiness to enter the tone higher up and at fuller volumes.  Guseva soared with ease in her initial reverie of Herman in her bedroom, managing to sustain the long lines even while lying on her back on her bed.  In her big closing scene by the winter canal, Guseva gave so fully of herself, her soprano taking wing with full force yet still able to turn the corners with ease.  An interesting artist with much to give.

The registers parted company in Doris Soffel’s mezzo some time ago, but she still has stage presence to spare.  Her Countess was a glamorous figure, holding the stage whenever she appeared on it.  She sang her music in a chestnut-toned chestiness and impeccable French when she got to it.  Elena Maximova sang Polina’s music in a wonderfully dark contralto with an elegant legato.  Higher up, the voice takes on some generous vibrations, but I would love to hear her sing some Mahler, for instance. 

Andrei Kymach was an extrovert Tomsky, sung in a masculine baritone, utterly firm from top to bottom.  He savoured the sounds of the language, making the words the starting point for the line, and using them to colour the tone most impressively.  Nikolay Zemlianskikh of course has the most glorious aria as Yeletsky, which he sang in a charming high baritone, seemingly able to defy gravity, again, with the text wonderfully forward and able to colour the line.  The remaining cast reflected the exceptional standards one has come to expect at this address.

Musically, this Pikovaya Dama was in a league of its own.  Orchestral playing of this quality is rare indeed and Gaffigan conducted a reading that was so full of vigour, soaring melodies, and irresistible rhythmic impetus that the evening just flew by.  We were also given powerful and compelling interpretations of the central roles and the choral singing was exceptional.  Jones’ staging does feel that it has seen better days, but does bring insight, particularly in its sense of not always being able to tell the difference between the real and the imagined.  The ovation from the audience at the end was deafening, seemingly exploding in joy and gratitude.  If you can get to València to see this, don’t hesitate.