Renée Fleming as Tatiana in the Letter Scene
Are you an angel, sent to guard me,
or will you tempt and then discard me?
Resolve these doubts I can't dispel.
Could all my dreams be self-delusion?
Am I too innocent to tell?
Has fate prepared its own conclusion?
Renée Fleming (s), Tatiana; London Symphony Orchestra, Sir Georg Solti, cond. Decca, recorded Dec. 16-21, 1996
by Ken
Is there anyone who hasn't frenziedly punched out an e-mail and then, still in the grip of that frenzy, pressed SEND only to regret it as soon as the frenzy passes? It appears that for all the wizardry of the technology and the instantaneousness of communication, we 21st-century folk aren't that different from our technologically primitive letter-writing ancestors.
In last night's preview we set the scene for what we're going to be hearing tonight: the scene in which young Tatiana Larina, in the wee hours of the morning, declares her love for Yevgeny Onegin, the visiting friend of her sister Olga's fiancé, Lenski. We heard the intense Prelude, the opening quartet, set in the garden of the Larin country estate, in which the sisters sing a duet from inside the house while their mother and nurse listen and reflect outside, and we heard some interactions between the paired young people and Lenski's ravishing declaration of love for Olga.
TATIANA WRITES HER LETTER
Now it's several days later, and an intensely excited Tatiana, alone in her room, figures out what to do. We're going to listen to the whole of Act I, Scene 2, where the "Letter Scene" proper is bracketed by scenes between Tatiana and Filipyevna, the nurse. In fact, we're going to break it down into manageable bits with the assistance of one of our CD versions, but I thought we now might just take the plunge.
Here are three performances -- very different but, I think, quite effective in their distinctive ways.
TCHAIKOVSKY: Yevgeny Onegin, Op. 24:
Act I, Scene 2, Letter Scene, Tatiana
TATIANA's room, very simply furnished with old-fashioned whtie wooden chairs covered with chintz, and window curtains of the same material. A bed, over which is a bookshelf. A chest of drawers, covered with a cloth, and on it a mirror on a stand. Vases of flowers. At the window, a table with writing materials.
TATIANA has told the nurse, Filipyevna, that she can't sleep, and had Filipyevna set up her writing table with writing supplies. The nurse has left. TATIANA remains for a long time lost in thought. Then she rises, very agitated and with an expression of resolute determination.
[Note: What follows is the singing translation by David Lloyd-Jones used in the Welsh National Opera English-language recording we're going to be hearing.]
TATIANA: To write is foolishness, I know it,
but as I love him, I must show it.
And though I languish evermore,
I'll learn what rapture lies in store!
Desire has poisoned me with longing;
all day I only think of him.
For though I hide in my despair,
my fatal tempter finds me there;
My tempter haunts me everywhere!
[She goes to the writing table, sits down and writes, then pauses.]
No, that won't do! I'll start another.
[She tears up the letter.]
What's wrong with me? I'm all on fire.
I can't think how to start.
[She writes again, then pauses and reads over what she has written.]
"I had to write, my heart compelled me;
What is there more that I need to say>
Henceforth I know that you'll disdain me
for acting rashly in this way.
But if you'd only show compassion
and think how wretched I must be,
you'll surely not abandon me!
At first I meant to hide my secret;
believe me, I had hoped that you would never know it;
never know, never know!"
[She lays the letter aside.]
Oh yes, I'd sworn that I would hide my love.
And not betray this madness that consumes me.
But now I can't subdue my passion any more;
fate will decide what whatever lies in store.
I shall declare myself and trust in my confession!
[She writes again.]
"Whatever brought you to this lonely place?
For since I live here in seclusion
I would never have seen your face,
or would have known such bitter torment.
My heart would soon have grown contented,
and then as time went by, who knows,
I might have chanced to find another,
agreed to honor and respect him,
and made a faithful, loving wife . . ."
[She becomes lost in thought, then rises suddenly.]
But no!
No, there could never be another
to whom I'd give my love!
My life is bound to yours forever;
this is decreed by heaven above.
Now my existence has a meaning,
that noble soul for which I sigh.
I know that God above has sent you
to guard and to love me till you die!
Often I'd seen you in my dreaming;
your face and form had long been dear.
Nightly you whispered in my ear;
your words disturbed me with their meaning.
And then . . . that dream of mine came true.
For when we met, I straightaway knew you,
and in that instant, beating wildly,
my heart cried out to me: "Love him, love him!"
For you were always there beside me
when, sick at heart, I knelt in prayer.
Your noble presence seemed to guide me
when I would help the poor and
needy in charity.
Yes, it is your beloved vision
that comes in this moment of decision
to stand beside me as I write,
and fill my heart with new emotion,
with whispered promise of devotion
that brings me comfort and delight.
[She goes to the table and sits down again to write.]
"Are you an angel, sent to guard me,
or will you tempt and then discard me?
Resolve these doubts I can't dispel.
Could all my dreams be self-delusion?
Am I too innocent to tell?
Has fate prepared its own conclusion?"
[She again rises and and walks about pensively.]
"No, come what may, I'm now resolved
to lay my worthless life before you.
Pity my burning tears and grant me
your protection, I impore you,
I implore you!
Imagine, I am all alone;
there's no one here who understands me.
[She comes downstage.]
I fear my reason will desert me;
to find release I'd gladly die.
I long for you,
I long for you to be my savior;
one word can set my heart on fire
or simply stifle my desire,
to leave me desolate and wretched!"
[She goes quickly to the table and hurriedly finishes the letter. Then she stands up and seals it.]
It's finished! Dare I read it through?
For shame and terror now assail me.
But since his honor is my pledge
I boldy trust he will not fail me!
Galina Vishnevskaya (s), Tatiana; Bolshoi Opera Orchestra, Boris Khaikin, cond. Melodiya, recorded 1956
Leontyne Price (s), Tatiana; London Symphony Orchestra, Fausto Cleva, cond. RCA/BMG, recorded June 1970
[in German] Ljuba Welitsch (s), Tatiana; Philharmonia Orchestra, Walter Susskind, cond. EMI, recorded May 22, 1948
RECORDING NOTES: The Price and Welitsch recordings are stand-alone excerpts; the Vishnevskaya is from the 1956 Bolshoi Opera complete Onegin . . .
The 1956 recording with Vishnevskaya as Tatiana and Yevgeny Belov as Onegin, with Boris Khaikin conducting, is surely the best of the numerous Bolshoi Onegins. Somehow I've never owned it complete; what we hear here is a dub I made from a Melodiya excerpts LP. I've led with this performance so we can hear straight off what a top-notch Russian soprano (and we could hardly ask for much better than Visnevskaya in her prime) sounds like in this conspicuously Russian music.
The Price performance is also an LP dub, from my copy of 5 Great Operatic Scenes. Although most of the repertory for Price's operatic recitals beginning with the famous five-LP "Prima Donna" series was from roles she never sang onstage, she had indeed sung Tatiana (though I think not in Russian); in fact we're going to hear her in the complete scene that includes the Letter Scene. In addition, as the LP liner noted, although Price had performed often with Fausto Cleva at the Met, this was their first recorded collaboration, and their only one, since the conductor had died before the record was released, in 1972.
The meltingly beautiful Welitsch recording is from the much-loved Bulgarian soprano's sadly brief operatic heyday, when the voice possessed an amazing combination of size, lingering beauty, and seemingly unflappable agility. I'm sure better sound can be gotten from this recording; this is some random CD dub I downloaded, thinking I wasn't likely to do any better by dubbing my Seraphim LP version.
WE'RE GOING TO WORK OUR WAY SLOWLY THROUGH
THE SCENE -- TO OBSERVE CLOSELY WHAT HAPPENS
As it happens, the original EMI edition of the English-language Welsh National Opera recording breaks Act I, Scene 2 down into compact tracking bits, and I thought we would take advantage of that to just work our way ever so gradually through the scene. I don't think you need me to "interpret" the miracle of what Tchaikovsky achieved here: finding his way right smack into the command center of the human heart. What I thought we would do instead is take advantage of the opportunity to home in on how the thing is put together musically and dramatically.
We've spent a lot of time pondering Hector Berlioz's in-depth musicalization of a couple falling instantaneously head-over-heels in love, in two very different forms: the innocent youngsters of Roméo et Juliette, and the oh-so-savvy mature cynics of Béatrice et Bénédict, in both cases capturing not just the physical excitement of those raging hormones but the terrifying vulnerability involved in declaring that passion. (See the June 2010 post "Berlioz tackles that most basic and intimate issue, the terrifying vulnerability of owning up to loving," with links to the earlier posts -- I think.)
Although Berlioz's couples didn't realize it, they had the great good fortune to be exposing themselves to partners who happened to share their passion completely and unreservedly. Not so poor Tatiana. And note that even in the grip of her frenzy, she is level-headed enough to know everything that the most level-headed observer might counsel her to consider. The problem is that in the grip of the frenzy, none of that smart stuff turns out to matter.
We're going to listen to take the three sections of the scene -- the two Tatiana-Filipyevna scenes bracketing the Letter Scene proper -- and then back up and hear where we are at this point.
I. The nurse says good night to Tatiana
(1) Orchestral introduction
[in English] Kiri Te Kanawa (s), Tatiana; Elizabeth Bainbridge (ms), Filipyevna; Welsh National Opera Orchestra, Sir Charles Mackerras, cond. EMI/Chandos, recorded June 29-July 6, 1992
(2) NURSE: There! No more talk tonight
Note that in the orchestral passage to which the last-described activity takes places, we hear an even more impassioned version of the them we heard last night in the Prelude to the opera.
TATIANA's room, very simply furnished with old-fashioned whtie wooden chairs covered with chintz, and window curtains of the same material. A bed, over which is a bookshelf. A chest of drawers, covered with a cloth, and on it a mirror on a stand. Vases of flowers. At the window, a table with writing materials. As the curtain rises, TATIANA, wearing a white nightdress, is sitting before her mirror very much lost in thought. FILIPYEVNA is standing near her.
FILIPYEVNA: There! No more talk tonight.
It's bedtime, Tanya.
You must be up in time for church tomorrow.
Now sleep, my child.
[TATIANA rises listlessly and sits on the bed. FILIPYEVNA caresses her.]
(3) TATIANA: I can't sleep, Nanny!
I don't think you can fake empathy; either you have it or you don't, and Tchaikovsky had a seemingly limitless capacity. Note the delicacy of his characterization of Tatiana's restlessness and of the intimate bond between her and her nurse.
TATIANA: I can't sleep, Nanny. It's so sultry.
Open the window and sit by me.
[FILIPYEVNA opens the window and sits on a chair beside TATIANA.]
FILIPYEVNA: Tanya, what's wrong with you?
TATIANA: I'm restless.
So tell me more about the past.
(4) FILIPYEVNA: Well, let me think now
In this lovely five-minute exchange it seems at first as if Tanya is simply seeking diversion from Filipyevna, but it gradually becomes clear that she's probing for something -- and she may not even know quite what. In the course of her probing we hear some of the crucial musical materials of the lettter-writing scene to come churning, presumably in the young girl's mind.
FILIPYEVNA: Well, let me think now. In the old days
my head was full of any number
of fairy stories and children's tales,
of ancient legends and romance.
Today, though, my poor memory's failing;
those tales are quite forgotten.
Ah! My mind grows weaker every day.
Yes, truly!
TATIANA: Tell me something else, then.
When you were just a girl like me,
did you not fall in love at all?
FILIPYEVNA: Now really, Tanya! What a question!
No one in those days spoke of love,
and if I'd used that word, my husband's mother
would have sent me packing.
TATIANA: Then why did you get married, Nanny?
FILIPYEVNA: God willed it so, and so it happened,
when I was only just thirteen.
Vanya was even younger still.
The match was settled by our parents,
my dowry fixed, and then one day
my father blessed me with a kiss.
I cried, and no one could console me.
Weeping, my friends unbound my braids
and led me solemnly to the church,
and so I went to live with strangers . . .
But you're not listening, my child
[TATIANA embraces FILIPYEVNA with passionate emotion.]
TATIANA: Oh Nanny, Nanny, I'm so wretched, so unhappy.
I feel like busting into tears and sobbing,
for my heart is breaking.
FILIPYEVNA: There, there, my child, you must be ill.
But God will cure you, you shall see.
Come, let me sprinkle holy water on you.
You're all on fire.
TATIANA [hesitantly]: I am not ill;
I'll tell you, Nanny, I'm . . . I'm in love!
So leave me now, please leave me now,
for I'm in love!
FILIPYEVNA: But Tanya . . .
TATIANA: I beg you, leave me here alone.
First bring my table with some paper,
my pen as well, I'll go to bed then.
Good night!
FILIPYEVNA [doing what she is told]: Good night! Sleep soundly, Tanya!
LET'S HEAR THIS WHOLE SCENE SO FAR (IN RUSSIAN)
We heard the opening of the Levine-DG Onegin last night, and I might note that, while regular readers know that I'm not a big fan of Levine (lots of talent, lots of understanding, and seemingly near-zero ability, or perhaps inclination, to translate any of that into musical action. This recording isn't like that at all. This is, in fact, the conductor who was hinted at in his early years, and who I wish he'd developed into. And he coaxes from Dresden's Staatskapelle -- an orchestra that in the right hands has no peer for human expressivity -- playing of almost magical responsiveness, the exact sort of thing I've almost never heard him ask from the Met orchestra in the zillions of performances I've heard them give together.
Mirella Freni (s), Tatiana; Ruthild Engert (ms), Filipyevna; Staatskapelle Dresden, James Levine, cond. DG, recorded June 1987
II. Tatiana writes a letter
(5) TATIANA: To write is foolish, I know it
I've found that the better I know the Letter Scene, the more often I've heard it, the greater the thrill I experience at the sound of that throbbing orchestral introduction, and the greater the exhilaration at Tanya's initial outburst. Then there's the incredibly specific portrayal of her false starts at the letter.
TATIANA remains for a long time lost in thought. Then she rises, very agitated and with an expression of resolute determination.
TATIANA: To write is foolishness, I know it,
but as I love him, I must show it.
And though I languish evermore,
I'll learn what rapture lies in store!
Desire has poisoned me with longing;
all day I only think of him.
For though I hide in my despair,
my fatal tempter finds me there;
My tempter haunts me everywhere!
[She goes to the writing table, sits down and writes, then pauses.]
No, that won't do! I'll start another.
[She tears up the letter.]
What's wrong with me? I'm all on fire.
I can't think how to start.
[She writes again, then pauses and reads over what she has written.]
[in English] Kiri Te Kanawa (s), Tatiana; Welsh National Opera Orchestra, Sir Charles Mackerras, cond. EMI/Chandos, recorded June 29-July 6, 1992
(6) "I had to write"
No, Tanya, you can't say this to him! But what can we do when we learn that she has a pretty good idea how crazy this is?
TATIANA: "I had to write, my heart compelled me;
What is there more that I need to say?
Henceforth I know that you'll disdain me
for acting rashly in this way.
But if you'd only show compassion
and think how wretched I must be,
you'll surely not abandon me!
At first I meant to hide my secret;
believe me, I had hoped that you would never know it;
never know, never know!"
[She lays the letter aside.]
Oh yes, I'd sworn that I would hide my love.
And not betray this madness that consumes me.
But now I can't subdue my passion any more;
fate will decide what whatever lies in store.
I shall declare myself and trust in my confession!
[She writes again.]
"Whatever brought you to this lonely place?
For since I live here in seclusion
I would never have seen your face,
or would have known such bitter torment.
My heart would soon have grown contented,
and then as time went by, who knows,
I might have chanced to find another,
agreed to honor and respect him,
and made a faithful, loving wife . . ."
[She becomes lost in thought, then rises suddenly.]
But no!
(7) No, there could never be another
Oh no! No, no, no, sweetheart!. Don't you realize what you're saying? This isn't Yevgeny Onegin you've fallen in love with, but some creature of your imagination.
TATIANA: No, there could never be another
to whom I'd give my love!
My life is bound to yours forever;
this is decreed by heaven above.
Now my existence has a meaning,
that noble soul for which I sigh.
I know that God above has sent you
to guard and to love me till you die!
Often I'd seen you in my dreaming;
your face and form had long been dear.
Nightly you whispered in my ear;
your words disturbed me with their meaning.
And then . . . that dream of mine came true.
For when we met, I straightaway knew you,
and in that instant, beating wildly,
my heart cried out to me: "Love him, love him!"
(8) For you were always there beside me
See above. The only consolation is that Tatiana isn't actually writing this nonsense.
TATIANA: For you were always there beside me
when, sick at heart, I knelt in prayer.
Your noble presence seemed to guide me
when I would help the poor and
needy in charity.
Yes, it is your beloved vision
that comes in this moment of decision
to stand beside me as I write,
and fill my heart with new emotion,
with whispered promise of devotion
that brings me comfort and delight.
(9) "Are you an angel"
And here we are.
She goes to the table and sits down again to write.
TATIANA: "Are you an angel, sent to guard me,
or will you tempt and then discard me?
Resolve these doubts I can't dispel.
Could all my dreams be self-delusion?
Am I too innocent to tell?
Has fate prepared its own conclusion?"
[She again rises and and walks about pensively.]
(10) "No, come what may"
At this point there's no stopping the poor girl, and if you think Tchaikovsky hasn't been holding anything in reserve, wait till she finishes the letter. And then note the musical change as she ponders what she's done.
TATIANA: "No, come what may, I'm now resolved
to lay my worthless life before you.
Pity my burning tears and grant me
your protection, I impore you,
I implore you!
Imagine, I am all alone;
there's no one here who understands me.
[She comes downstage.]
I fear my reason will desert me;
to find release I'd gladly die.
I long for you,
I long for you to be my savior;
one word can set my heart on fire
or simply stifle my desire,
to leave me desolate and wretched!"
[She goes quickly to the table and hurriedly finishes the letter. Then she stands up and seals it.]
It's finished! Dare I read it through?
For shame and terror now assail me.
But since his honor is my pledge
I boldy trust he will not fail me!
NOW LET'S HEAR THE WHOLE LETTER-WRITING
Mirella Freni (s), Tatiana; Ruthild Engert (ms), Filipyevna; Staatskapelle Dresden, James Levine, cond. DG, recorded June 1987
AND LET'S HEAR THE WHOLE SCENE SO FAR
Renée Fleming (s), Tatiana; Larissa Diadkova (ms), Filipyevna; London Symphony Orchestra, Sir Georg Solti, cond. Decca, recorded Dec. 16-21, 1996
III. Morning: Tatiana asks the nurse a favor
(11) TATIANA: Ah, night is over!
We begin the last section of the scene with this marvelous darkness-into-light music. If this were an e-mail Tanya had written she might have already pressed SEND. Now in the daylight world of reality, she still has to figure out what to do with the letter.
TATIANA goes to the window and draws the curtains. Daylight quickly fills the room.
TATIANA: Ah, night is over!
The rising sun
awakens another day.
[She sits by the window.]
There goes the shepherd . . .
The world's at peace.
But I'm not, I'm not!
[She becomes lost in thought. The door opens quietly and FILIPYEVNA enters. At first she does not notice TATIANA.]
FILIPYEVNA: It's time to dress, my dear. Wake up!
[She sees TATIANA.]
Why, what is this? You're up already!
You must have risen with the lark.
Last night I feared that you were ill,
but thank the Lord, that's over now and done with.
You're quite your cheerful self again.
Your cheeks have got their color back.
[TATIANA comes from the window and picks up the letter.]
[in English] Kiri Te Kanawa (s), Tatiana; Elizabeth Bainbridge (ms), Filipyevna; Welsh National Opera Orchestra, Sir Charles Mackerras, cond. EMI/Chandos, recorded June 29-July 6, 1992
(12) TATIANA: Oh Nanny, may I ask a favor?
It's curious that the EMI CD editor chose to make a separate track of this 24-second bit, but it does allow us to hear the musical transformation as Tatiana becomes clear in her own mind what she wants to do.
TATIANA: Oh Nanny, may I ask a favor?
FILIPYEVNA: Of course, my darling, tell me what.
TATIANA: Don't think that . . . really . . . or suspect that . . .
just promise, promise that you'll do it!
FILIPYEVNA: There, there, I'll give my word of honor!
(13) TATIANA: Then make your grandson go
Now that the decision is made, Tchaikovsky has come up with this strong, clear tune for her direction to Filipyevna, and the ensuing little duet seems to have strayed in from a light comic opera, though the mood will shift once again before the scene ends.
TATIANA: Then make your grandson go in secret
to take this note to him -- you know --
that gentleman who lives nearby,
and make him promise that he'll never reveal
who wrote it or from whom it came.
FILIPYEVNA: To whom? I didn't catch the name.
I'm growing slow of understanding.
We've got so many neighbors here,
I cannot know them all, I fear.
Speak up now, and tell me as plainly as you can.
TATIANA [impatiently]: Nanny, how can you be so stupid!
I tell you that my letter is for
the neighbor who was here the other day.
FILIPYEVNA: I understand now.
TATIANA: It must be taken to Onegin's house.
FILIPYEVNA: Please don't be angry that my mind's astray,
I'm growing older every day.
TATIANA: Onegin's house!
FILIPYEVNA: I understand now.
TATIANA: Onegin's house!
FILIPYEVNA: I understand!
TATIANA: So send your grandson with my letter to Onegin.
FILIPYEVNA: Please don't be angry that my mind's astray,
I'm growing older every day.
But Tanya, why have you grown paler?
FILIPEVNA takes the letter but stands as if still in doubt. TATIANA motions to her to go. FILIPYEVNA goes to the door, stands there a moment considering, then comes back again. Finally she signifies that she understands and leaves the room. TATIANA sits down at the table and, resting her elbows on it, again becomes lost in thought.
LET'S HEAR THE WHOLE CONCLUSION OF THE SCENE
Mirella Freni (s), Tatiana; Ruthild Engert (ms), Filipyevna; Staatskapelle Dresden, James Levine, cond. DG, recorded June 1987
Finally, let's hear the whole scene
TCHAIKOVSKY: Yevgeny Onegin, Op. 24:
Act I, Scene 2 (complete)
Anna Tomowa-Sintow (s), Tatiana; Margarita Lilowa (ms), Filipyevna; Sofia Festival Orchestra, Emil Tchakarov, cond. Sony, recorded Jan. 15-21, 1988
[in English] Leontyne Price (s), Tatiana; Lili Chookasian (c), Filipyevna; Metropolitan Opera Orchestra, Thomas Schippers, cond. Live performance, Feb. 29, 1964
HMM, WE HAVEN'T SAID ANYTHING ABOUT HOW
THE LETTER TURNS OUT, OR WHAT COMES OF IT
There's still a third scene to come in Act I, and then two more whole acts! I really don't see how we can get into any of that here. But it's not that hard to find out what's yet to come.
One hint: In what we've heard, Tatiana has in fact provided a startlingly lucid description of the arc her life is going to trace. In the grip of the frenzy, though, she just doesn't realize it.
#
No comments:
Post a Comment