Pyotr Il’yich Tchaikovsky arranged Kurt-Heinz Stolze

Onegin
The Royal Ballet

Dancers
Eugene Onegin – Lukas B. Brændsrød
Lensky – Joseph Sissens
Madame Larina – Christina Arestis
Tatiana – Natalia Osipova
Olga – Sae Maeda
Nurse – Julia Roscoe
Prince Gremin – Nicol Edmonds
Relatives, countryfolk, members of the nobility – Artists of The Royal Ballet

Conductor – Wolfgang Heinz
Orchestra of The Royal Opera House

John Cranko – Choreography
Jürgen Rose
Lighting – Steen Bjarke

She starts as the most introverted and bookish of girls, uninterested in the light-hearted interplay of her friends and family; she ends a mature woman utterly devastated by the need to choose duty over love. There have been several outstanding Tatianas in John Cranko’s enduring ballet based on Pushkin’s famous verse novel, from Marcia Haydée, the role’s creator in 1965, through to Natalia Makarova, Ekaterina Maximova, Lynn Seymour and beyond; Natalia Osipova now joins their ranks. Such is the complexity of human detail with which she creates her character and the nerve-raw intensity with which she portrays every thought and emotion that her portrayal must now rank among the greats. Osipova, the Bolshoi virtuosa who broke free and finally chose to make the United Kingdom her home, joined The Royal Ballet and has remained loyal for over a decade now, has deepened and matured as an artist, largely shedding her firecracker stage persona for something more profound. Indications of that were apparent several years ago when she brought an unusually moving spirituality to her Giselle at Covent Garden, and she has excelled in roles calling for great emotional complexity, from Anastasia in Kenneth MacMillan’s ballet of that name to Mary Vetsera in his Mayerling. That the Osipova of today is far from the explosive technician of before is no criticism; she has now achieved what few manage – to subsume dance technique into the portrayal of character. Not that she ‘danced’ Tatiana poorly, she most certainly did not, but the exultation in her sheer physicality is now gone, replaced with a deep understanding of character and an uncommon ability to convey it. Her Tatiana is intense, deeply moving and painful to watch, as first, a young girl’s dreams are shattered by the callousness of an arrogant man, and finally a woman’s peace are again destroyed by the same man, many years later, seeking to reverse the decision he made so easily many years before, a decision which has tormented him since.

In Osipova’s achievement, no little part was played by one of The Royal Ballet’s most engaging and exciting younger artists, Norwegian Lukas Brændsrød, who has risen to the rank of First Soloist and is frequently cast on account of his uncommon height, strength and versatility, and who now must be destined to rise even further, having, on his first essay of the role, brought great intensity and emotional power to Onegin. He was superb throughout all the challenges set by the choreographer in terms of partnering, but it was in his portrayal of character that he shone after a somewhat muted first scene when he seemed to be finding himself on that stage in that ballet and in that character. His performance blazed into life in Act II at the Larinas’ party as he brought great flashes of aristocratic impatience and temperament to break the icy coolness of his demeanour. In Act III, an emotionally broken older man, he was one of few dancers to make real sense of Cranko’s ‘dream flashback’ section which shows Onegin’s memories of all his flirtations and relationships abroad during his long, self-imposed exile after having shot dead his friend Vladimir Lensky in a duel. The final scene in which he implores Tatiana to renounce her husband, Prince Gremin, family and aristocratic life, was simply extraordinary, Brændsrød matching Osipova to set the stage alight. Their final ovation, which even brought the normally somnolent stalls patrons to their feet, was amply deserved.

Elsewhere, it was unsurprising that nothing came up to their level, despite a lively characterisation of Olga – Tatiana’s flighty younger sister – by a technically impressive Sae Maeda and a beautifully danced Lensky from Joseph Sissens who lacked the emotional heft to portray the poet’s explosion into rage at the Act II party or his inner despair before the ensuing duel. 

Not that it really mattered much. Despite having been a company member for many years, Osipova has always stood apart, and all the more now in her maturity. Her appearances have consistently brought ‘star guest glamour’ to performances, and it was no different here. She is now 39, so several years of active dance life still remain, even if her artistic choices of late show that she has a variety of interests which do not necessarily lie in classical ballet. It would be advisable to catch her performances while one can.