Verdi - La traviata (Buxton, 2026)

Giuseppe Verdi - La traviata

Buxton International Festival, 2026

Adrian Kelly, James Hurley, Alina Adamski, Tigran Melkonyan, André Heyboer, Frances Gregory, Amy J Payne, Harry Thatcher, Christopher Nairne, George Robarts, John Ieuan Jones, James Liu

Buxton Opera House - 22nd July 2026

As I mentioned in my other reviews of the festival, I was somewhat disappointed that the Buxton International Festival had made the decision to no longer perform exclusively rare opera, but times change and I accept that it's probably a commercial and economic necessity. The Buxton festival regulars are not getting any younger and new younger audiences are essential, so recognisable names like Verdi, La traviata and The Merry Widow might have a more popular appeal than something like the 1625 opera La liberazione di Ruggiero dall'isola d'Alcina (which I would note was a sell-out nonetheless). Still, there are attractions enough elsewhere in the music and book festival, in the Fringe and in the beautiful countryside of the Peak District, so I had no intention of going to see another La traviata, safe in the assurance that seats would still be filled without me. But you find you've seen all the Fringe you want to see, the legs have had all the hiking they can stand and there is an opera on with a few cheap seats left; so what is a committed opera-goer supposed to do?

I even knew what we were in for having seen the glossy productions shots. This was going to be a 'classic' traditional Belle Époque La traviata. There was one original touch, the set opening out from giant size jewellery box inspired by the one owned by Marie Duplessis, the inspiration for Alexandre Dumas' La Dame aux Camélias and the source for Verdi's Violetta Valéry in La traviata. That was the only distinguishing feature from a thousand other La traviatas. In Act I, the costumes were all formal dinner jackets and gaudy long satin dresses, lace frills and red velvet covered chairs; the set cluttered and messy.

There was nothing original in Act II either, Scene I at Violetta's country house was conventional and dull, and director James Hurley was unable to find any way of making the relationship between Violetta and Alfredo feel natural and authentic. There was little sympathy to be felt for the pleas of a lifeless Giorgio Germont who failed to provide any compelling reason why Violetta should abandon the relationship with his son. In Scene II of Act II, the gypsy girls and the matador routines - intrusive at the best of times, but definitely capable of being integrated better into the drama - also failed to excite or set up the struggle between fate and death to come in Act III.

Choosing to stage a frequently performed popular opera at Buxton is one thing, but having a good record of staging lesser-known Verdi operas in the past, I don't really know what possessed them to stage La traviata is such an unoriginal and uninspiring way. The characterisation was non-existent, the interactions lifeless, the direction going through the motions of operatic movements and mannerisms. There was not one original idea or interpretation worth anything here. Verdi had restrictions and censors to get past, so much of the underlying intent and implications about the activities of Violetta Valéry as a courtesan had to be glossed over, but there is no excuse for a director for the modern stage not bringing out the real underlying drive of Verdi's opera. When Violetta refers to herself as 'la traviata', it's even translated in the subtitles as 'lost woman', which could mean just doomed to die. With that La traviata becomes just a head-in-the-clouds impossible romance, the jealousy of a spurned lover, and a chance of happiness snatched away by terminal illness.

The remainder of the Buxton production remained bland. inoffensive and unambitious, saying nothing. La traviata deserves more and so much more can be found in this work, but there was no effort at all to be adventurous and explore the many themes within it. It doesn't need to be as radical as Andrea Breth's Salò-inspired 2012 production for La Monnaie in Brussels - but even the most recent productions I have seen of La traviata (Simon Stone for Paris in 2019 and Tatjana Gürbaca for Den Norske in 2018) before I decided I needed a sabbatical from this overly familiar opera for a few years, all had thoughtful probing ways to bring the subject of domestic abuse and public attitudes towards women who step outside accepted conventional social roles into a more recognisable modern context and thus rekindle the fire that drives the anger expressed by Verdi at the real underlying tragedy of women like Violetta Valéry.

Musically however, as familiar as La traviata is, it serves now and again to be reminded how good Verdi is in wringing the drama and truth out of every scene and emotion. This is Verdi entering into a new mature stage of his opera compositions, with the likes of Luisa Miller, Stiffelio and Rigoletto all showing a closer connection between subject matter and score, moving just a little further on past the conventions of Italian opera laid down by Rossini, Donizetti and Bellini and pushing Italian opera to new heights. Adrian Kelly, the musical director of the Buxton Festival may well have longed to conduct this Verdi opera for that reason - it's such a rich and dynamic score - and all of its qualities, pace, dynamic and rhythm were well handled, even if the stage direction suffocated any real emotion being expressed in it.

The singing also couldn't be faulted other than for the inability to make these characters feel real and not just stuffy cardboard figures going through the motions. Tigran Melkonyan was as good an Alfredo as I've heard, very much in the classic tenor mould. André Heyboer, through no fault of his own and more an issue of direction, was a dull, staid Giorgio Germont, the role sung well but unpersuasive. I was initially unsure about Alina Adamski taking on the role of Violetta for a single performance that was sung for the rest of the run by Alexandra Nowakowski. I would have liked a more mature voice and thought she started weak with some noticeable vibrato in her 'È strano! ... Ah, fors' è lui', but she shone in Act II and Act III, showing a superb range of voice and emotions for what is evidently a hugely intense and challenging role. Her 'Addio del passato' was almost heartbreaking ...almost, but not quite. This production would have needed far more build up for that devastating final scene to have impact. The closing down of the jewellery box should have been more effective, but it didn't quite cut it.

External links: Buxton International Festival

Thomas - Hamlet (Buxton, 2025)

Ambroise Thomas - Hamlet

Buxton International Festival, 2025

Adrian Kelly, Jack Furness, Alastair Miles, Allison Cook, Gregory Feldmann, Richard Woodall, Yewon Han, Joshua Baxter, Tylor Lamani, Dan D’Souza, Per Bach Nissen, John Ieuan Jones, James Liu

Buxton Opera House, 22nd July 2025

Adapting Shakespeare's Hamlet as a grand opéra would necessarily have imposed certain conventions that could only work against the dramatic flow of the play, not to mention the surely unacceptable requirement to rewrite the play's bleak conclusion, so you can't really fault Ambroise Thomas then for the approach he takes. I doubt that even Verdi, a contemporary of the French composer, would have done it much differently since his own versions of Shakespeare take similar necessary liberties with the plot and characterisation to fit with the conventions of the opera form. Well, he might not have included three (not just one, not just two, but three! Or at least two and a half) grand opéra drinking songs, but you can't fault Thomas for excess when it comes to this particular work. To state the obvious, there is a lot of drama in Hamlet.

And death. A lot of dark drama, death, madness, vengeance (you almost wish Verdi had given it a go on that basis, but we have Macbeth and Otello, not to mention Falstaff, and those are all great in their own way) and, drinking songs notwithstanding, that's the ominous tone that rightly dominates in Thomas's Hamlet. Correspondingly, that's the tone that is established in the 2025 Buxton International Festival production directed by Jack Furness and conducted by Adrian Kelly. It's dark, dramatic in voices, ominous in the music, dynamic in its performance, matching the pent up anger of the production's Hamlet, Gregory Feldmann, who paces the stage like a tiger, raging out self-absorbed soliloquies. It maintains this mood so effectively that it comes as no surprise then when we come to the Act IV, we find that Thomas has composed not just a mad scene for Ophelia, but a whole mad Act.

But there are genuine valid reasons for such excess of emotion in Hamlet. Perhaps Thomas's lyrical score and the truncated French language libretto shorn of the original's poetry don't get to the heart of the many factors that contribute to its depth of expression, but the music although romanticised is dramatically attuned. What it needs to work on stage (and rarely achieves in my experience) is a director who is prepared to delve into what remain contemporary and relevant themes in the play that are not fully exploited in the opera version. Jack Furness does just that in a direct and simple way without over-imposition. One of the many themes that can be drawn out of Hamlet for greater attention is the subject of what it is like to live under surveillance in a corrupt, self serving and authoritarian state and the impact this has on society. If there is any theme that is more relevant to the world (and the UK) today, a way that lets us see deep into the heart of the drama of Hamlet and see the changes happening in our contemporary world reflected back at us, it's this.

This is handled well by the director with simple side touches that don't impose on the dramatic content of the opera, but rather give it depth and context. We get a hint of it right at the beginning of the production when a lone protestor runs to the front of the stage during the wedding of the new king Claudius to his dead brother's wife Gertrude with a poster that suggests 'No Kings' or 'Not My King'. He is quickly bundled off stage by heavily armed militia who continue to carry out brutal arrests and beatings in the musical interludes between acts. At the beginning of the final act a hooded woman is led across the stage, knelt down and summarily shot in the back of the head to the shock of the audience.

Where this is relevant is in how it feeds into Hamlet's behaviour. With such state oppression and killing of civilians going on in the background, his fury at the man who he believes has killed and taken the place of his own father is compounded by his inability to translate that righteous anger into action and prevent such wider crimes against the populace. You can feel that in every scene; it's not self-pitying grief but self-questioning doubt. Hamlet rages impotently and hates himself for it, retreating into madness. In that context, the original 'happy ending' composed by Thomas which hurtles in there with no warning, works really well here. Or is made to do so by Jack Furness in the Buxton production.

Thomas's original ending sees Hamlet alive and crowned king, but since it wasn't felt that this twist would be accepted in Shakespeare's own country, it had to be reworked for the opera's London premiere a year later in 1869. Not that Hamlet expiring over the dead body of Ophelia in the final scene is any truer to Shakespeare, but letting Hamlet live and become ruler opens up more questions that it resolves. Here, since the director has laid the groundwork for what a corrupt ruler has done to his people, Hamlet knows that action is needed; the voices of the dead tell him. He knows also that he can't just unleash chaos and leave it for someone potentially worse to come along, but needs to own it. Even Shakespeare's play, although it ends on a completely different note, nonetheless has a similar message that Hamlet's story must serve as an example to others.

What also helped the opera work so well in the Buxton International Festival production was a balanced restraint in the set designs and presentation. For the most part the drama takes place on narrow platforms on a wide staircase. It looked like Sami Fendall's set designs would be inadequate for such an epic drama but - a little like Olivier Py's production of this opera - it recognises that the real drama in Hamlet is an interior struggle. As such, Jake Wiltshire's hugely effective lighting and swirling mists provided a great deal of support to make Thomas's score feel much more ominous than it might have otherwise. There were however additional touches where required; a slatted wall a cage where Hamlet prowled like a tiger unable to pounce on his vulnerable uncle, and the riverbank scene for Ophelia; both scenes simple but effective. The underlying menace was ever present in the US ICE-like immigration military troops maintaining order by rounding up protestors and troublemakers.

Conducted by Buxton's musical director Adrian Kelly, the festival orchestra gave a balanced reading of the score with no inappropriate Verdi-like bursts of thunder. Instead, the flowing melodies and the dramatic accompaniment of the score were allowed to work within the context of the stage production to achieve the necessary impact. Best of all was the singing. There was well-deserved acclaim for Yewon Han's Ophélie. She very much has a key role in the opera and not just a scene stealing role despite being written to appeal to a French audience in thrall to the character, but here the role was dramatically coherent and, as sung by Yewon Han, vocally effective. Allison Cook was excellent as Gertrude. Often the victim of Hamlet's anger and abuse, she rose to the challenge of the role and you really felt Gertrude's conflicted position. Alastair Miles is still one of the best bass singers in the UK and was outstanding as Claudius. Gregory Feldmann's intensely delivered soliloquies as Hamlet were met with surprising silence during the performance. That was more of an indication that they were too raw, too real, and it seemed rude to intrude upon his grief with applause that would have broken the spell. At the curtain call however he received and deserved every plaudit and cheer.

I haven't had a lot of time for Thomas's Hamlet up to now, but to be fair it is not performed that often and as an opera it has to compete with one of the greatest plays in the English language, in French moreover and in a grand opéra format, so the challenges are considerable. The production I saw in Strasbourg in 2011 appeared to have been heavily cut and seemed to me disjointed and I couldn't get past what had been done to Shakespeare's poetry and dramatic drive, As an actor himself, Olivier Py showed that there was considerably more you could do with the work in his 2014 production for at La Monnaie in Brussels, but Jack Furness and Buxton have proved again that neglected works with perceived flaws can have those weaknesses turned into strengths. What they do here in opera terms is what any dramatic presentation should do when confronted with a complex work like Hamlet, which is make it feel vital, relevant and relatable. And any production of Hamlet whether theatrical or operatic should have you gripped, shocked and impressed, and this superb production at Buxton did just that.

External links: Buxton International Festival

Verdi - Ernani (Buxton, 2024)

Giuseppe Verdi - Ernani

Buxton International Festival, 2024

Adrian Kelly, Jamie Manton, Roman Arndt, André Heyboer, Alastair Miles, Nadine Benjamin, Jane Burnell, Emyr Lloyd Jones, Theo Perry

Buxton Opera House - 17th July 2024

"Please be aware: This production involves death, blood, themes of physical and mental abuse, torture and suggestion of gun violence"

If you didn't know which opera you were going to see, the trigger-warning signs placed around the Buxton Opera House would at least give you a reliable hint that it could only be an early Verdi opera. In fact it could be any early Verdi opera. In this case it is indeed one of those rarely performed works, Ernani, with Act II just before the interval resounding to cries of "Sangue e vendetta!" ("blood and vengeance!"). I wonder how they managed without trigger-warnings in Verdi’s time when this was first performed in 1844. Perhaps that's why there was so much oppression and war being waged by authoritarian rulers and dictators back then, whereas now ...oh, hold on…

Sangue e vendetta indeed, there is not a lot of subtlety in early Verdi, but as was noted recently in the early Verdi compilation opera Rivoluzione e Nostalgia at La Monnaie in Brussels, there is quite a lot of rousing music and singing and a lot of full-blooded drama in these works. Engaging plots not so much, in fact with three powerful men struggling for the hand of one woman, Ernani is not unlike the situation that La Monnaie developed for their early Verdi mixtape, in as much as it's fairly standard plot fare. Attila, I seem to recall, has much the same situation. It's tempting to compare this one with Don Carlos, which itself isn't perfect, but it shows up the vast difference between early and later Verdi. One need only compare how Don Carlo (later to become Charles V, the Holy Roman Emperor) here reflects on power in his aria at the tomb of Charlemagne with a similar tomb scene in Don Carlos (over the tomb indeed of Charles V) and the difference in emotional torment and soul searching is apparent.

Not that it matters greatly as far as Ernani is concerned. Plot and character isn't everything. Well, it is perhaps for most other works of opera and drama, but Verdi is a special case. In some respects the composer is tied to tradition and to the taste for historical melodrama of the day, to characters making wild romantic gestures and binding themselves unforced into grand promises that only serve to make the plot even more dramatic. There is only one thing that can make that even more dramatically powerful (powerful doesn't necessarily mean credible) and that’s Verdi's music played at full tilt.

And he really goes for it in Ernani, as does the Opera North orchestra under conductor Adrian Kelly at the 2024 Buxton International Festival. The music is not as heavy-handed as you might think, but never passes up an opportunity to throw in a huge chorus with a punchy flourish at the end. The main feature that Verdi also relies on is the need for singers of an exceptionally high standard for the four of the demanding central roles. You get that right and you have something powerful on your hands, but weaknesses in any of those roles and the whole thing falls apart. There is no question that the exceptional cast assembled here were as good as you could hope for this opera a fighting chance of success, but the options for the director Jamie Manton were limited and despite the strengths elsewhere in the music and the production, he wasn't able to find a way to make it work successfully as a drama.

Considering what he had to work with as a plot, it seems like a reasonable idea to focus instead on character and the interaction between the principal figures of the drama. It's an option I suppose, but it turns out not to be a particularly fruitful avenue to explore. The plot and the motivations of the characters are not complicated as much as a bit daft, or daft to non-existent, certainly in the first two acts. Somehow all three pretenders for the hand of Elvira all contrive to be in the same place as the unfortunate lady is being prepared for marriage, and they have a big row about it. That's about the height of the first half of the work. 

Acts III and IV involves some contrived twists around a secret society of conspirators,  the secret identity of the bandit Ernani being in reality Don Juan of Aragon, a king in disguise and an unusual vow where Ernani promises to kill himself on the sound of a bugle. You would hope that he doesn't come within earshot of just some random bugler. If it wasn't for the fact that they are notable medieval historical figures all squabbling for the hand of the Duke's niece (including the Duke himself), it would be a banal romantic drama. Which, since it's not being played historically in this production, I'm afraid that's how it comes across. It's undoubtedly hard, but with Verdi's score surely not impossible to make these figures something a little less one-dimensional.

The stage production design relied on dramatic lighting which was highly effective for the charged scenes, the all-purpose triangular recessed set serving well for bedroom, court and crypt. Not related to any period however, it felt rather generic and it didn't place the drama into any kind of meaningful context that would make it feel relatable or even credible. That's a tall order I must admit, and based on a previous viewing of this opera in a more traditional setting it may indeed be an impossible ask, but it didn't get a lot of help in direction and character that lacked the conviction to match the overheated drama.

The singing and dramatic performances however were not lacking in any way. Let's start with the chorus as they play a major role in ramping up the tension throughout. They were in fine voice here, providing those big moments to lift the work up above the banal individual romantic and personal dramas. All too often in these Verdi works it's the female soprano in an extremely demanding role that is often the weak link, but that certainly wasn't the case here. Nadine Benjamin was simply outstanding as Elvira with a big voice and fiery delivery. Roman Arndt was terrific as Ernani, presenting a strong pairing with Benjamin's Elvira. The the other two pretenders for her hand also have to be made of stern stuff, as Don Carlo is a king and Don Ruy Gomez de Silva is a duke, both needing to be formidable challengers to Ernani. André Heyboer and Alastair Miles ensured that was the case.

Musically, this was a thrilling account of Ernani, certainly worthwhile to demonstrate the often underrated qualities of Verdi's early work, particularly when you have singing and musical direction of this calibre. Unfortunately, Francesco Maria's Piave's libretto for this old-fashioned romantic melodrama does not hold up well, and despite his best efforts of the director Jamie Manton, there is little depth of human character to be found in these stock historical caricatures.

External links: Buxton International Festival

Mozart - Il re pastore (Buxton, 2023)

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart - Il re pastore

Buxton International Festival, 2023

Adrian Kelly, Jack Furness, Katie Coventry, Ellie Neate, Olivia Carrell, George Curnow, Joseph Doody

Buxton Opera House - 9th July 2023

There is no good or bad when it comes to Mozart's opera works - or any Mozart really - just compositions that you can characterise as youthful work and mature work. Idomeneo and Die Entführung aus dem Serail maybe blur those lines a little, but the works on either side are certainly distinct. Not better or worse, just the work of a composer who consistently developed and found his own voice and expression with each piece. But even Lucio Silla, La Finta Giardiniera and Mitridate, Re di Ponto (written at the age of 14) are accomplished works that have proven their worth in intelligent sympathetic productions. So even though Il re pastore, is somewhat of an unknown quantity for me, there was the assurance that since its Mozart and in the hands of the Buxton International Festival, it was still going to be worthwhile.

And sure enough the 2023 BIF production confirms that this is no lesser work, and in fact might be all the more impressive for having been composed when Mozart was only 19 years of age. It's impressive also for making light work of a Metastasio libretto, which can often be quite tortuous in their plotting and rather obvious in their progression to a conclusion of conventional sentiments and moral messaging. Even the title of the opera (The Shepherd King) almost tells you everything you need to know about this opera; that it's about a king or ruler who makes mistakes - mainly in terms of who he chooses to form romantic couples (not least because not everyone is who they appear to be) - but eventually comes to see sense and rule with clemency, forgiveness and understanding. There is however a little more to Il re pastore, mainly due to how the youthful Mozart delves a little deeper into this idea and brings its characters to life.

The actual detail of the plot is very much along typical Metastasian lines, although perhaps a little less convoluted than usual. Alexander the Great/Alessandro, has just conquered Sidon which has been ruled by a tyrant, and wishes to restore its rightful ruler to the throne. He discovers that a humble shepherd Aminta, who has ambitions to marry Elisa, a woman he believes is above his station, is in fact the heir to the throne and unaware of his heritage. Despite being reluctant to leave the happy life of a shepherd, Agenore convinces him of the importance of duty taking precedence over love. Rather than depose the current queen Tamiri, Alessandro however decides that Aminta should marry her, unaware of her love for Agenore. Oh, what a foolhardy judgement! This causes a lot of anguish and recrimination in the third quarter of the opera, the second having been filled with sentiments of love and devotion for each other. Hopefully someone with sense and wisdom will resolve all this by the conclusion…

Admittedly it's not the most inspiring of tales. As predictable and as conventional as the plot is, a carbon copy of many other operatic situations dealing with rulers and the exercise of power wrapped up in a romantic melodrama, there is a little more to Il re pastore, or at least more that Mozart manages to bring to it. There are elements in the libretto relating to nature that are enhanced by Mozart's music, that elevate the work considerably. Those qualities might still go unnoticed here other than for the sympathetic production direction of Jack Furness. The set design consists almost solely of bucolic background video projections of gently flowing streams, green fields, hills with sheep and horses and vistas of skies. Nature is brought very much to the fore, so that when Agenore tells Aminta that you can't rule over others if you can rule yourself, it associates that necessity for a ruler to exercise wisdom and clemency with the importance of understanding of one's own true better nature.

That is a subject that Mozart is inclined to explore in almost all of his operas, with the exception perhaps of Don Giovanni, although there is a similar case that can be made for that. While it is fascinating to hear a youthful early work by Mozart begin to explore those ideas and find musical expression for them - albeit owing more to Haydn here than the sophistication of later works - the work has its own charm and the skill is evident in how the music is employed in service of this underlying idea of nature. Even on the level of simple arrangements and structure, the music flows beautifully, the recitative passages and da capo are kept to a minimum - at least in this production - allowing the opera to lead from one beautifully melodic aria into the next, where each character is given the time to explore and express their true nature.

That is brought out also in the minimalist and deceptively hands-off nature of the production. The director, Jack Furness takes time to ensure that each of the characters have the opportunity to express themselves, the women in particular being rather fiery in nature, creating some entertaining exchanges that play to the dynamic of the central part of the work. He also stages the moment when each of the protagonists become aware of Alessandro's misguided intentions for their marriages by having them appear on the stage reading a missive and reacting in horror and despair. At every stage the sentiments are attuned to the music, sometimes playful, sometimes darker - but never too dark - and despite the overwrought nature of some of the scenes, never employing farce or stooping to make light of it.

Mainly however, it's left to the projections behind a bare stage to play out in accordance with the music and those underlying sentiments. There's multiple-angle footage of a gently flowing stream while words of love and commitment are expressed, a battered stone tower looms over a vista of hills and lakes for Alessandro, each of the chosen screens subtly alerting the audience not so much to the nature of the wider world surrounding the characters but more an insight into their inner world. It serves also to bring out that essence of nature that is suggested in the libretto and title, that a Shepherd King is needed to look after his flock. And even in a world where we are no longer ruled by kings, the underlying idea in Il re pastore of the danger of rulers out of touch with ordinary people and detached from their own true nature is one that is still relevant.

And one that is very much in evidence in the music. The musical performance of this early Mozart opera was an absolute delight, as it always is when you hear Mozart played with a lightness of touch by a smaller chamber ensemble. Adrian Kelly, conducting and providing accompaniment for the recitative on fortepiano, navigated the Northern Chamber Orchestra through the work, alert to the subtle changes of expression, creating an authentic period-like sound. Bright, youthful voices are essential for this kind of Mozart work and, sung in the original Italian, the singing performances were uniformly excellent in their handling of some challenging arias. The most entertaining performances came from Ellie Neate's Elisa and Olivia Carrell's Tamiri, both playing up the betrayed women roles that Mozart would specialise in with Don Giovanni. Katie Coventry's trouser role of Aminta was perfectly judged, Joseph Doody commanding as Allesandro and George Curnow brought great character to Agenore.

No one is going to reclaim Il re pastore as a neglected work, but even the earliest of Mozart's operas have a certain charm and beauty that deserves revisiting and exploring. Thankfully that's what the Buxton International Festival is rightly renowned for, and Adrian Kelly and Jack Furness take that opportunity in this production to show that this is a work that has more than just curiosity value.

Links: Buxton International Festival

Tchaikovsky - Eugene Onegin (Buxton, 2019)

Pyotr Illiych Tchaikovsky - Eugene Onegin (Buxton, 2019)

Buxton International Festival, 2019

Adrian Kelly, Jamie Manton, Shelley Jackson, Angharad Lyddon, David Webb, George Humphreys, Gaynor Keeble, Ceri Williams, Joshua Bloom, Joe Doody, Christopher Cull, Phil Wilcox

Buxton Opera House - 10th July 2019

The Buxton Festival usually concentrates on presenting rarely heard works, and for their 40th anniversary two or three works that you are unlikely to see performed anywhere else, and a good bit of imagination and variety in the programming too. A work like Eugene Onegin wouldn't normally fit on the bill, but if you are going to put on a more familiar opera to appeal to a wider audience then Tchaikovsky's undisputed masterpiece is a good choice. Buxton put on a fabulous production too, one that didn't strive to impose any extravagant reinterpretation, but rather focussed on the mood and undercurrents that give the work its extraordinary character.

There are any number of ways of portraying that underlying character of doomed romance (not least Tchaikovsky's own horrendous experience of it) or the underlying Russian traits in Pushkin's hugely important work of Russian literature. Buxton's production however isn't interested in going for any deep Stefan Herheim or Krzysztof Warlikowski explorations and deconstructions of the work, but on first glance Justin Nardella's set designs did at least seem to reference Robert Carsen's NY Met production. With a stage strewn with autumnal leaves and back screen glowing with colours, the focus seems to be on the light and the seasons, factors that unquestionably exert an enormous influence on the work.

The luminous back panel might change colour to reflect the seasons and moods, turning green when Lensky quarrels with Onegin in jealousy over his perceived flirtation with Olga, wintry white while they turn up for their duel, and blood red when Lensky is killed, but Buxton's production has more to it than just colour coding and it recognises that there is more to Tchaikovsky's score than fluctuations of mood. There's another dominant character that suffuses the whole work and that's its dark melancholic reflection on romance and the twists of fate and time that swirl people in and out of each other's lives, exerting a huge tug that can disrupt the larger patterns of life and emotional stability.

Or, to put that force into more recognisable terms, it's the power of love, but it's wrong to just see Eugene Onegin as a tragic romantic melodrama or indeed to put the emphasis just on the romance. It is surely one of the most heartrending tragi-romantic works you can imagine, and only Massenet's Werther comes close. Actually Massenet's opera is perhaps the closest comparable work for how it is also tied to the seasons, to love out of time with the seasons. Tatyana and Onegin's love has the potential to be boundless, a love like no other, but perhaps all love has that potential were we not human and subject to other forces, to time, to our own weaknesses, to our own lack of self-awareness and inability to foresee what is ahead, or perhaps allow that potential to be stifled by looking too far ahead in anticipation. Life too has its own rhythms that we only see in retrospect.

Quite how you put that into music - along with all the momentous character of Pushkin's work - is something only the genius and personal experience of Tchaikovsky could have done without unnecessary explanation or elaboration, but those characteristics certainly arose out of the elegant and well-performed Buxton production. Somehow Jamie Manton's direction managed to capture all these moods tied into seasons, the sense of melancholic reflection, the fatality of a doomed romance and the tides of time all within its design and performances. In contrast to the Robert Carsen light-box production, the tone of Justin Nardella's set design is actually very dark, the Larin house all black walls and floor, with mirrors when indoors that only reflected the darkness inward.

With period costumes, it managed to look both elegant and austere, elegant in terms of the outward manners, the means by which characters want to present themselves, while the world around them is much less controllable. Those outside factors are depicted in other ways, Tatyana feeling the presence of dark silent figures watching, pressing in on her, closing her down, Onegin faced with a mirror of self-reflection that he can't see past. With extras and chorus play their part, including sweepers who pushed the leaves and the snow past in choreographed rhythms, all of this feeding into an expression of vast forces at work and clashing in the opera.

Of course nowhere is that more effective than in the music itself. I don't think the Northern Symphony Orchestra's playing was the most sweepingly lush and romantic version of Eugene Onegin I've heard, but while it is nice to hear the glorious elegance of Tchaikovsky's beautiful melancholic melodies and themes, conductor Adrian Kelly made the case that there should be a little tug or barb of rawness behind them. The test of the effectiveness of this is in how the music works hand-in-hand with the production to stir up the deepest feelings in the work that cannot be expressed in words alone. Truly Tchaikovsky finds the heart of Pushkin's narrative and character that connects on a more direct emotional level with the audience.

If there are any caveats to be applied to the production, it's in the understandable necessity to sing the work in English. If you can't get Russian singers or singers experienced in singing Russian, it can be difficult to get the necessary expression in Eugene Onegin. English is not a perfect match, no matter how good the translation and its fitting to the cadences of the music, but on the other hand, it was good to be able to listen and see the detail that the cast brought to performances without the distraction of surtitles. Perhaps surtitles were more necessary for the quartets, ensembles and choruses, but even there the overlapping expressions are conveyed more by the delivery and harmony than what is said in the words.

Even with the libretto translated a little stiffly in English, the singing was excellent. The main roles were handled exceptionally well by Shelley Jackson and George Humphreys above and beyond the vocal delivery. You must feel sympathy for both Tatyana and Onegin. It's not just naive young girl meeting aloof arrogant self-obsessed man, but there is great depth to both, the tragedy being that they both come to recognise this at times when it's too late to do anything about it. The performances however were excellent right across the board, Angharad Lyddon's Olga and David Webb's Lensky bringing another essential character and tone to the work, Gaynor Keeble's Larina and Ceri Williams's Filipyevena bringing another vital perspective on how love is ignited and dies as time and life exert other forces and pressures on it. This was consequently a beautifully moody Eugene Onegin that stirred deeply.

Links: Buxton International Festival