Taking on repentant cad 'Eugene Onegin'
Eugene Onegin is the operatic hero women love to hate.
And it's Vladimir Chernov's job to make the whole audience empathize with Onegin, in spite of what amounts to some pretty spectacular misbehavior on the character's part. Onegin is a bored young Russian aristocrat of the 19th century, a man who spurns the love of the honest, impassioned young Tatyana. Then he idly flirts with Tatyana's sister Olga, to the point that her enraged fiancé challenges him to a duel. Then he kills the fiancé in the duel.
When he re-encounters Tatyana — now the adored wife of a prince — years later in a ballroom, Onegin suddenly realizes that she's the woman for him, and he tries to get her to dump her husband and run off with him.
A real prize, in short. But Tchaikovsky's Onegin also is a prize to sing, one of very few operatic title roles given to the baritone (the guy who usually loses all the girls to the tenor). Chernov declares that he doesn't have much in common with Onegin's background and personality, but he understands him — and the role is a pleasure to sing.
Seattle Opera audiences haven't had the pleasure of Chernov's company in some time now. He first burst onto the local scene in 1990, in a joint U.S.-Russian production of Prokofiev's opera "War and Peace" that stands as one of Seattle Opera's most unforgettable shows. Almost unknown in this country, Chernov riveted audiences in the pivotal role of Andrei — a role that helped catapult him to considerable fame in this country. Now he's in regular demand in the world's leading opera houses, and is particularly known for his collaborations with conductor James Levine — at the Metropolitan Opera and in the recording studio. (Chernov has also returned once to Seattle, for a 1992 "Barber of Seville.")
Chernov, a romantic figure on and off the stage with his long hair and soulful eyes, says he'll never forget "War and Peace" here. It is a production, he says, that will "always live in my heart."
"In 1988, Speight Jenkins came to Moscow and St. Petersburg for the auditions (for 'War and Peace'). He heard my voice, and he liked me. The Kirov (Opera) people tried to tell him there were other baritones he should take, but he said no, he wanted this one. I will always be grateful to him. Otherwise, I think, I would still be there."
So what's a nice guy like Chernov doing in the role that brings to mind such old-fashioned terms as "cad" and "bounder"?
"He's not such a bad type," smiles Chernov.
"In Russia we learn Pushkin since the first grade, and everybody knows this story. Onegin is from a rich background. He knows literature, science, history, foreign languages, dance, horse riding, travel. He is just spending time and money, day and night. He has a big calendar where the main question is which party he will go to tonight. There was a whole society like Onegin."
What makes Onegin tick? Chernov's personal belief is that the answer lies in the character's childhood.
"He has unhappy childhood," the baritone explains.
"He never gets enough love. His parents are almost on a different planet, and he repeats their same empty life. No work, no creating. Why is he bored, snobbish, cool? He does not know how to give love, only how to take. He knows very well the technique of how to meet women and make them love him."
The real challenge of the role, Chernov says, is the last scene.
"As singer and actor, to play and sing Onegin in this scene is very difficult. You must have stiff body language, which makes the vocal technique difficult. I need to show the change in him, his unhappiness and insecurity, as he realizes what he has lost. The young girl who loved him is now a princess, and she is ignoring him, and he feels, 'I am going to get her, even if I have to die.' "
What if the opera had ended differently, with Tatyana (who still loves Onegin) casting aside her marriage vows, and the two of them running off to live the high life in, say, Paris?
Chernov laughs.
"If she went off with him, the next day he would go off to the next woman. Yes, he is in love, but he is sorry for himself. He loves Tatyana because he sees she is appreciated in high society; he would never be interested in her if she were still at home with her family (as Tatyana is when Onegin first meets her). Onegin doesn't really change in his character, even though he realizes what he has missed."
Chernov says he feels sorry for Onegin in that last scene, because the character believes he has missed his one chance of happiness. But even if he succeeded in recapturing Tatyana, he wouldn't really be happy.
If happiness eludes Onegin, it certainly isn't bypassing Chernov. Surrounded by "wonderful colleagues" at Seattle Opera, the baritone has nothing but praise for his fellow singers and stage director David Ritch, who "knows every detail of the music, and has so many good ideas." Chernov and his wife, Olga, a singing teacher, have an 18-year-old son, Vladimir (called Vova for short) and what he calls "a good life" in New York.
It's a career he never could have had back at the Kirov, where the huge roster of singers ensured that everybody got very few performances.
"In Russia you are nobody until you leave," says Chernov.
"Then they criticize you for leaving. But my heart is open to everyone; I forgive anyone who hurts me. Yes, I have ego, vanity, but I fight them in this very difficult profession. I'm working very hard. Life is too short to give each other problems.
"I am so very happy to be here in Seattle, and so grateful to be in this country. I went with Speight Jenkins to the baseball game, and after about an hour and a half of this endless game, I looked at the people and how they react to every little thing, with such passion. And I thought, I love these people! I love this country."
Melinda Bargreen: mbargreen@seattletimes.com.
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