Mazeppa, Grange Park Opera

Grange Park Opera’s Mazeppa, in David Pountney’s bold new production, is a visceral and arresting interpretation of Tchaikovsky’s often-overlooked opera. Starkly reimagined with modern trappings and political undertones, this is not a cosy period drama but a searing exploration of personal and national conflict, all set against the backdrop of a fractured Ukraine.

From the outset, Francis O’Connor’s set evokes a militarised dystopia with functional wooden towers and ominous hardware, a jet fighter’s nose cone and a howitzer make chilling appearances. The mood is funereal and unrelenting: coffins on trolleys, gas-masked dancers, and brutal torture scenes drive home a vision of war and ideological extremism. Yet the staging doesn’t overwhelm the narrative; instead, it sharpens it.

Musically, the production is underpinned by commanding performances. David Stout leads as the ageing warlord Mazeppa, a leather-clad, silver-haired figure of menace and tragic charisma. His baritone is muscular, rich, and full of menace, but capable of unexpected tenderness in duets with Mariya. Rachel Nicholls, as the ill-fated heroine, is both vocally powerful and emotionally devastating. Her soprano, while occasionally pushing at the top, captures Mariya’s descent from naive infatuation to madness with gut-wrenching sincerity. The closing lullaby, sung over the body of her dead lover, is one of the production’s most haunting moments – delivered with hushed intensity and aching beauty.

John Findon gives a strong turn as Andrei, the spurned lover who bookends the opera with his ardent, ill-fated presence. Though not the most natural actor, his robust tenor fills the stage, particularly in his emotionally charged duets with Nicholls. Luciano Batinić as Kochubey is a revelation, vocally imposing even while dangling from chains mid-torture. He sings with gravitas and pathos, anchoring the opera’s moral core.

The English National Opera Orchestra, under Mark Shanahan’s baton, plays with colour and conviction, though the conducting occasionally lacks dynamism in scenes demanding more propulsion. Tchaikovsky’s orchestration, full of emotional turbulence and lyrical flourishes, deserves the boldest touch, but Shanahan keeps things largely safe.

While Pountney’s signature provocations (motorbikes, eyeball extractions) risk veering into excess, they mostly serve the drama’s grim tone. At times, the symbolic flourishes verge on overstatement, but the overall coherence and thematic clarity redeem these indulgences.

This Mazeppa is not an easy watch – nor should it be. It demands its audience sit with discomfort, ambiguity, and blood. But it also offers moments of startling beauty, fierce performances, and urgent relevance. Tchaikovsky’s problematic opera is here granted a staging that does not shy away from its contradictions but rather leans into them with intelligence and theatrical flair.

Photo credit: Marc Brenner, Grange Park Opera