by usia review

Tchaikovsky’s Iolanta: Lyric Intimacy and Emotional Transfiguration

“I am touched by arguments in scripts in which real living people act, who feel the same way as I do.”

— Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky

The libretto of Iolanta was written by Tchaikovsky himself and translated from Danish by Vladimir R. Zotov. This opera, his final work for the lyric stage, occupies a unique place in the composer’s output. Tchaikovsky is best known worldwide for his ballets—Swan Lake, The Nutcracker, and The Sleeping Beauty—as well as for his symphonies and piano and violin concertos. Yet he also composed ten operas (or eleven, counting one in two versions), among which at least two—Eugene Onegin and The Queen of Spades (Pique Dame)—are undisputed masterpieces. Alongside them, Iolanta stands as one of the most refined and poetic creations of Russian opera.

Tchaikovsky and Lyric Theatre

For Tchaikovsky, lyric theatre represented an opportunity to communicate directly with a broad audience. In a revealing letter to his patroness Nadezhda von Meck, he reflected on the challenges of operatic composition:

“The scene—one must not forget that the theatre requires not only melody and harmony, but also action. The audience comes not only to hear, but also to see. These constraints paralyse inspiration, because in a sonata or even in chamber music, one is free, without restrictions.”

This tension between musical freedom and theatrical constraint is palpable in Iolanta, an opera that often feels closer to a scenic cantata than to traditional dramatic theatre.

History and Context

Iolanta premiered in 1892 at the Mariinsky Theatre in St. Petersburg—on the same evening as The Nutcracker. Unsurprisingly, the ballet quickly eclipsed the opera in popularity. Contemporary criticism was reserved, and even Rimsky-Korsakov, in his memoirs, commented unfavorably—perhaps with a touch of bitterness or rivalry.

The opera is set in the 15th century and features a pseudo-medieval, sentimental libretto. The dramatic action is static, the intrigue predictable, and the ending happy—traits that distinguish it sharply from the psychological depth of Onegin or Pique Dame. Yet within this simplicity lies its strength: Iolanta is a meditation on inner awakening and emotional illumination.

The blind Princess Iolanta, daughter of the benevolent King René of Provence, regains her sight through the transfiguring power of love. Her central aria—“Why did I not know before neither longing, nor sadness, nor tears?”—expresses the emotional core of the opera. The concept of toska (longing), so central to Russian culture, resonates throughout the score, bearing affinities with the German Sehnsucht and the Portuguese saudade: desire, nostalgia, and an unfulfilled yearning that permeate Tchaikovsky’s music.

Musical Language and Influences

Tchaikovsky admired Richard Wagner and attended the inauguration of the Bayreuth Festival in 1876. In Iolanta, one can indeed perceive subtle echoes of Tristan und Isolde, particularly in the harmonic language and the sustained emotional atmosphere. Wagner, of course, was the visionary creator of the Bayreuth Theatre, and his influence—though filtered through Tchaikovsky’s lyric sensibility—is unmistakable.

The opera calls for ten solo voices, chorus, and full symphonic orchestra, allowing for rich textures and intimate vocal writing.

Performances

In this production, special mention must be made of soprano Arina Azaeva in the title role. While we have previously admired her even more in La Wally, where her spinto voice shone with greater brilliance, she nevertheless offered a solid and expressive interpretation of Iolanta, marked by musical sensitivity.

Baritone Guriy Guryev, as the Duke of Burgundy, was a revelation. His aria “Kto mozhet sravnit’sya” was sung with great vehemence, intensity, and volume, supported by a beautiful and resonant timbre. Bass Evgeny Stavinsky displayed a strong vocal presence, while Alexander Milev, a true Russian bass, impressed with the depth and authority of his instrument.

The Portuguese soloists deserve praise for their courage and commitment in singing in Russian—a demanding language for non-native speakers. All performed with professionalism and musical discipline.

Regarding the tenor role, one recalls the 2006 production at Teatro Nacional de São Carlos, featuring the now-celebrated Piotr Beczała, whose luminous voice already captivated audiences at that time. By comparison, tenor Misha Didyk, while delivering intense dramatic energy and powerful high notes, suffered from excessive vibrato and a harsh timbre, with some climaxes verging on the shouted.

The chorus was somewhat hindered by the physical constraints imposed by health-protection measures. Nevertheless, under the baton of Maestro Graeme Jenkins, the national orchestra was guided securely and expressively toward an apotheotic conclusion, rewarded by enthusiastic and prolonged applause.

Final Thoughts

Iolanta may lack dramatic tension, but it compensates with lyrical beauty, emotional sincerity, and orchestral refinement. This performance reaffirmed Tchaikovsky’s gift for expressing the deepest human emotions—longing, love, and redemption—even within the apparent simplicity of a fairy-tale ending.

A Teatro Nacional de São Carlos Opera

 @TNSC #iolanta #Tchaikovsky

Thanks to: TNSC