TheatreHD: Vienna Opera: Iolanta

Garden of Eden with a catch. Sonya Yoncheva in a fairy tale about the price of insight. The premiere of Pyotr Tchaikovsky's Iolanta at the Vienna State Opera was an extraordinary event. The last time the work was performed on this stage was in 1900 - and then Gustav Mahler himself, who was the director of the theater at that time, was at the controls. After 125 years, the parable opera returned to the Viennese stage - and turned out to be surprisingly in tune with today. The new production was directed by Viennese debutant Evgeniy Titov. He set the action in a dilapidated castle, where an idyllic garden is laid out among the ruins: both a refuge and a dungeon, fenced off from the outside world. Titov’s “Iolanta” is a topical performance-question without a clear answer: what do we lose and what do we gain by opening our eyes to the world? What is better - blissful ignorance or the bitter truth? Bulgarian soprano Sonya Yoncheva and a brilliant ensemble of performers under the musical direction of Tugan Sokhiev made this production one of the main hits of the season. Evgeniy Titov’s performance touches not only on the theme of the price we pay for insight, but also raises the issue of loneliness, vulnerability and control by loved ones. Ivo Stanchev creates the image of a ruler who is not omnipotent - a king who is both a loving father and a tyrant. He is able to reverse the death sentence, but is unable to protect his daughter from the truth about the world. Titov fills the performance with seemingly everyday details that add up to a single picture. The treatment of Dr. Ebn-Hakia in a blue raincoat looks more like a ritual (he places an electrode on Iolanta’s forehead and looks at the readings on a laptop). Iolanta is constantly put to sleep here - her “Garden of Eden” turns out to be a place of injections and pills, “medicated sleep.” Outside there is another world, which at first penetrates only in separate strokes. On the walls of the castle there is graffiti warning: “Turn back! Whoever enters here will die." Two half-naked bodybuilders, as the personification of brute male strength, guard the perimeter. The gatekeeper Bertrand (“thundering bass” Simonas Strazdas) walks around with an ax and behaves aggressively. And when Iolanta’s friends leave, they put on the same yellow raincoats - and it becomes clear that they are not so much friends as staff: the uniform gives away a service, not a friendly function. The director does not seek to shock at any cost - he builds logic. Every detail in his performance is subordinated to the main question: is this Garden of Eden really good? And are we prepared for what we'll see when it collapses?