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First and foremost: Speranza Scappucci, the peppy Italian maestra who wields her baton as if it were charged with an electric current. She’s a force of nature in the pit and leads the COC orchestra with a seemingly bottomless tank of energy, throwing herself into the music with such intensity, at times leaping into the air, that you’d be forgiven for thinking she’s conducting Mahler. 

Some might view her style as too ostentatious. But as Scappucci has proved time and again, her flashiness on the podium only results in extraordinary sonorities. She leaves no crumbs as she mines the emotional highs and lows of Tchaikovsky’s deeply expressive score, always finding new colour in the music. Under her watch, the orchestra possesses the agility of a chamber ensemble, yet at times, the sound of a group that’s twice its size. 

Scappucci is joined onstage by a supremely talented cast. As the title character, who rejects the love of young Tatyana (Lauren Fagan) in his youth, only to be met with karma when he finds feelings for her years later, Andrii Kymach perfectly captures Onegin’s swaggering arrogance, voice exuding a warm, burnished tone. 

Opposite him, Fagan is remarkable as Tatyana, who falls head-over-heels for Onegin at first sight, before transforming into a headstrong woman who grows from the pain of his cold dismissal. The Australian soprano’s voice is delicate yet never thin, and always exceptionally stirring, as evident from her passionate rendition of the aria from the opera’s iconic Letter Scene, in which Tatyana expresses her love to Onegin. 

American mezzo-soprano Megan Marino makes an equally strong impression as Tatyana’s more extraverted sister, Olga. There’s a roundedness to her lower register, while the upper part of her range also soars. 

As Lensky, Onegin’s friend and Olga’s partner, Evan LeRoy Johnson earned the most sustained ovation on opening night for his tremendous interpretation of his character’s second act aria, plaintive and stained with regret. Even if Johnson’s acting can be somewhat stiff, there are moments of sparkling chemistry between him and Marino’s Olga. 

This leading quartet are completely in sync with Scappucci, who thrillingly — and aggressively — pushes the tempo forward. It was the chorus, however, led by Sandra Horst, who often could not keep up with this pace on opening night.

Still, the music-making on display Friday more than made up for the flaws in Robert Carsen’s staging, last seen at the COC in 2018 and now remounted by director Peter McClintock. 

My issue with Carsen’s interpretation starts right at the overture. He frames the opera as a memory play, opening with a scene from the end, with the title character alone onstage, reflecting on his relationship with Tatyana.

For this framing to work, though, the opera must unfold from Onegin’s perspective. But that isn’t the case here. If anything, much of “Eugene Onegin” is told from Tatyana’s point of view. As well, except for this added prologue, Carsen seems to never revisit this framing later on in his staging. Perhaps that’s for the best. 

Michael Levine’s spare set is filled with autumnal colours, evoking a sense of melancholy and decay. And among the most stunning aspects of Christine Binder’s bold lighting design is the duel between Onegin and Lensky, with the pair basking in a purplish hue, only visible by their stark silhouettes. 

Carsen’s production ends back where it began, on a near-empty stage with Onegin alone at the centre. I’m not sure such visual restraint would typically work for this opera, a sweeping piece with gale-force emotionality. But here it does — if only to place an emphasis on the exceptional work of Scappucci and the cast onstage.