(This review was written in collaboration with Francisco Salazar)

The road to the Met Opera’s second performance of “The Queen of Spades” on Wednesday, May 28, was almost as dramatic as the opera itself.

The role of Hermann is a monster. One of the most difficult in the repertoire, not only does it challenge the tenor taking it on with demanding tessitura, but the character is one of the most complex and enigmatic in the repertory. Is Hermann a hero or an antihero? His main goal is to find fortune, propelling into an obsession with finding the three cards that will win him said riches. But why does he want to be rich? Is it to have what everyone else has? And while we’re at it, is Lisa only interesting to him because she’s destined for a better suitor, a prince? He professes love to her, but threatens to kill himself if she doesn’t show him pity and then when she’s ready to throw it all away for him, he’s back to obsessing about his fortune. Was she always destined just to be a trophy wife for him in the vision of his ideal future? The opera presents a lot of interesting opportunities for any tenor to take on. The problem is that few singers in the world are dominating the role and thus provide answers to all these questions.

To that end, the Met originally cast Brian Jagde in the role, but due to a scheduling mishap, the tenor was doing “Aida” almost simultaneously when rehearsals for the opera would begin. Moreover, Jagde hadn’t sung the role before so the stakes were that much higher for both tenor and company. As such, Brandon Jovanovich, the hero of “Moby Dick” was then tapped to take on the role, one which he had much success with in previous seasons in Europe. But he also withdrew almost one week from the start of the production so the company had to shift its focus and bring in the only other tenor consistently performing the role around the world (beside Yusif Eyvazov, who is now persona non grata at the Met), Arsen Soghomonyan.

The Armenian tenor has performed the opera at the Palau de les Arts Reina Sofia in 2023, Armenian National Philharmonic (concert version) last year, and Bayerische Staatsoper a month ago. He’s also programmed for a semi-staged version in Varna and in Liege in 2026. Safe to say, he’s a veteran in the piece.

But he had one week of rehearsal with the dress rehearsal taking place two days before the opening, giving him one day to rest for his big Met Opera debut in one of the most challenging roles in the repertoire. Per reviews, he didn’t have his best night with some of his high notes cracking. The radio broadcast paints a more favorable picture, even if some of the blemishes are noticeable.

That doesn’t matter anymore, because while reviews often rely on the opening performance, there’s always more opportunities for artists to bounce back. And on Wednesday night, the second performance of the run, Soghomonyan made a statement: if you didn’t know his name, now you have to. He’s a star.

A Star is Born

The production by Elijah Moshinsky is a masterpiece of theatrical vision and it does so much of the work for the artists. The fact that Hermann wears black the entire night automatically allows him to stand out from the rest of the cast, emphasizing him as an outcast. Soghomonyan made the most of that costuming with his physicality. He creeped around the stage in a defensive stance, his eyes shifting subtly across his stoic poker face (pun definitely intended). He was an enigma and you got the sense that he could be a dangerous one. There was firmness in his movements and sternness in his behavior. Whereas everyone else seemed to have a more naturalistic approach to their acting, the theatricality in Soghomonyan further accentuated the feeling that he didn’t belong. This contrast permeated the entire production, adding to the dramatic tension already inherent in the opera.

Personally, the contrast between Soghomonyan’s limited movements and Sonya Yoncheva’s more energetic interpretation of Lisa during their romantic scene in Act one, scene two, made you question the nature of their connection, adding to his constant threats to off himself if she doesn’t show him pity. In their final scene together, where Lisa, in fact commits suicide first, they were placed on opposite sides of the stage and their interactions were similarly disconnected, reiterating this sense that they were never fated. In fact, it reinforces the thematic and dramatic notion that both characters lacked the “winning cards” they felt they had – Lisa never had a chance with Hermann to find true love, while he literally never had a chance at winning a fortune.

In other moments, he would sulk around on the margins (another brilliant staging choice from the production), observing others. At the end of the performance in Act two, his stalking of Lisa comes off as awkward, furthering the feeling that he doesn’t belong.

But there were two points in his performance where he really rose above that in his physical portrayal. The first was the scene where he visits the Countess’ room. He moved about like he owned the place and his opening of the doorways reinforced this. He eventually hides behind the portrait when the Countess and her entourage arrive, but the moment he stepped out, it felt like we had stepped into a horror film and his march toward her was imposing and threatening. He kneeled down beside her to beg for the answer, the terrified women staring into his pleading eyes. But as the scene continued, he became more frenzied, more aggressive and eventually this gave way to a more explosive physicality that was matched in the ensuing scene as he recoils in the bed, mirroring his victim from the previous scene.

In the final scene, as he proclaimed that life was but a game, there was a regal quality to his movement, a grandeur that was matched by the hint of a smile on his face, something that was alien to the rest of the performance. A hint of confidence in Hermann came through, which added to the unease of the overall portrayal.

It was within this framework that he delivered even greater characterization in his vocal performance. There is richness in his middle voice that connects, even glides wonderfully to a potent squilo at the top. Everything flows easily with no sense of pressing in the top. When a tenor sounds so consistent and solid up there, you know you’re in for a good night. This was undeniably the case for this performance.

He sang gently in the opening moments of the arioso “Ya imeni yeyo,” but he didn’t hold back on the series of high notes that follow, singing with an intensity that I could only describe as volcanic. You could feel the intensity ramp up and ready to burst at any second. That he seemed to save some of the energy for later proved intelligent both musically and dramatically, allowing Hermann’s intensity to also simmer to a boil throughout the ensuing three hours. What was notable in this opening aria was the fluidity of line, something that is not always a given with heavier dramatic tenors.

The end of the scene, where the storm takes over proved a bit of a setback for Soghomonyan’s interpretation as he was often overpowered by the orchestra. The tenor is stationed right in the middle of the stage and the orchestra is at its thickest here. Still, he didn’t compromise his voice for a second, building up to the climax without ever trying to push over the orchestra. By this point in the evening, he had hooked the listener, so this balance issue only forced you, as the listener, to work a bit harder.

But that was the only blight on his interpretation with the ensuing scene with Lisa a firm highlight, Soghomonyan at his moment passionate, singing softly, the pleading and desperation palpable in his voice throughout and the intensity growing, particularly in the glorious “Prosti, prelestnoe sozdanye.” The climactic high As had a particular potency that expressed the character’s pain, perhaps one of the few moments of vulnerability we got to experience.

His vocal display during the Countess confrontation was as immaculate as his physical portrayal, the voice gentle at the start of his pleading with her, but growing more accented and forceful as the scene wore on. With each phrase, you could finally feel the vocal volcano ready to erupt with violent energy and at the peak of the scene, the aggression was firm, if fleeting.

The scene with Lisa was riveting in how Soghomonyan matched Sonya Yoncheva, the two titanic voices erupting into the space with a potency I rarely heard all season.

The final scene was another display of vocal mastery from the tenor giving his brief monologue a ferocity. You could feel that he was relishing his revenge on his comrades and the high notes at the end of the sequence were delivered with confident heroism and abandon. It was the capstone to one of a revelatory performance from the new season.

Seated behind me were two men commenting rather audibly on the performance during the applause. One noted that he had seen the opening show and wasn’t thrilled by it. But during the applause, his friend asked him if Soghomonyan had redeemed himself during this performance.

“Definitely. He was very good.”

He was that and so much more. Soghomonyan has seemingly championed a lot of the dramatic repertory around the world and seems to be the go-to “Otello” in Europe. Here’s hoping that he gets the chance to bring that interpretation, among many of his others, to the Met stage in coming seasons.

A Star Returns

It’s been two seasons since soprano Sonya Yoncheva has been at the Met, and there was a time when it seemed to be a possibility that she might not return any time soon. Back in 2023, the soprano got into some trouble on social media by pushing back on a review that The New York Times made about one of her performances of “Norma,” using the term “vocal racists” and taking objection to “bullying” that results on social media. She even noted in a comment that “I am speaking on the behalf of many colleagues of mine, who are not willing to return to the Met, because of these kinds of writing.” The soprano canceled subsequent performances of “Norma” (three to be sure) and just like that, she was not seen at the Met after singing there as one of its top stars for several consecutive seasons. A lot of singers at the Met have seemingly been dropped for less in recent years, so it seemed that the Bulgarian soprano might become less present on the New York stage. The whole thing was thankfully nixed within a week.

And there she was for this production, reminding the Met audience why she remains one of opera’s most magnetic presences. Yoncheva, who has had success as a multi-faceted entrepreneur of books, magazines, and concert series (among other things), has a similarly tremendous sense of freedom and dominance on stage. She gives off the aura of being able to do anything she wants artistically in both her wide-ranging repertory and her vocal interpretations.

Her Lisa was vibrant from the get-go, the soprano regal as she strode in behind her aunt and yet possessing a delicate and timid manner. This bashfulness gave way to a more playful nature during the ensuing scene with Maria Barakova’s Pauline, her soprano melding beautifully with her mezzo counterpart. Then comes Lisa’s first big moment, a distressed meditation on this mystery man that has thrown her seemingly structured life out of orbit. Suddenly she’s feeling things she didn’t know she had a right to feel and its scares her. And here Yoncheva shifted from one side of the stage, fear on her face, her voice full of yearning. I don’t recall Yoncheva singing with this much elegance and grace in any other performance I have previously seen. She’s always had the vocal power and beauty, but here the legato lines did “Zashem zhe eti slyozy” melted into one another, the soprano diminuendoing from potent fortes to piani effortlessly. The forte G flat blossomed gloriously into the hall and the climactic B flat was similarly sublime in its potency. As Hermann pursues her around the room, she ran about, her frenzied energy a perfect foil to his statuesque embodiment. But when she let go and jumped into his arms, the passion was palpable.

Lisa doesn’t get to do much during the first scene of Act two, but you could see her sense of conflict as Yeletsky declared his love to her. My eyes were glued to her for a great part of this passage, watching as she navigated the inner turmoil of a character feeling bad for her betrothed and wondering if she was making the right decision. The subtle flirtation with Hermann during the play also added to the depth of the scene, reminding us that the Mozartian opera unfolding “on stage” is the happy reflection of the ultimately tragic story of “The Queen of Spades.”

Then came Act three, where Yoncheva was titanic. This scene tests the soprano’s range and its where most interpreters of Lisa fall short. Not only does she have to peak at a high B natural, but she has to descend from those highs to chest voice quickly. A lot of interpreters simply don’t have the lows to match the highs, but Yoncheva’s low notes might have been more impressive than her highs in some instances. It added a dark intensity to her singing. But in all this, the Andante molto cantabile of “Utzh polnoch blizitsya” was delivered with a buttery legato and sublime piano sound. That contrasted beautifully with the “cabaletta” section of the scene, the soprano trumpeting her voice with aplomb, the highs resonant and beautiful in their execution.

This performance was a reminder of Yoncheva’s greatest qualities as an artist – her confident stage presence and her elegant and intelligent vocal artistry. Like Soghomonyan, from the beginning you felt, as an audience member, that you were in the hands of a master. And once you feel that level of comfort, you simply give yourself over to the performance and the surprises it will give you.

A Veteran Star Dominates

Violeta Urmana, in her return to the Met since 2017, was a commanding force as the Countess. When she entered the stage, there was a regalness to every movement and that was coupled with an imposing mezzo voice. That was best seen in the Act one, scene two as she entered Lisa’s bedroom. Her voice soared with potent force as she told Lisa to go to sleep. Then at the ball, as she walked into the scene, her presence loomed over the proceedings with power. But that quickly changed in the following scene as Urmana revealed a vulnerability to the countess. In her aria “Je crains de lui parler la nuit,” Urmana’s voice took on a dark tone as she sang with a somber tone, sliding into the lower half of her range. Her resonant lower notes poured with nostalgia as she reminisced about her youth. Urmana combined beautifully with Tchaikovsky’s eerie and solemn orchestration. As she ended the aria, her voice died down as she repeated the first melody, singing with hushed tones. It was mesmerizing to hear such pianissimos resonate through the Met auditorium as the voice slowly decrescendoed to nothing. In the following scene, with Hermann, while Urmana doesn’t sing, she flawlessly showed her horror at his sight. And then, when she appeared as an apparition in Act three, scene one and scene three, dressed in a red dress, she loomed over Hermann with a haunting effect. As she told Hermann the card numbers in Act three, scene one, she once again brought a whispering sound that was unearthly.

Up-and-Coming Stars

As Pauline and Daphnis, Maria Barakova brought a rich voice to each role she portrayed. In her duet with Yoncheva, “Uzh vecher,” Barakova blended her round sound with Yoncheva’s more lyric colors, both balancing their sounds to great effect. Then, in her melodic song, “Da, vspomnila… Podrugi milyye,” Barakova sang with a haunting, sober timbre that emphasized the nostalgia and sadness in the piece. The higher range was emitted with power and contrasted with the lower range, which died down to a whisper.

As Daphnis, Barakova brought out lighter colors in her voice and blended well with Ann-Kathryn Niemczyk, who portrayed Chloe. Both brought a classical style to the performance that was perfect for Tchaikovsky’s rococo style.

Strong Support

Alexey Markov as Count Tomsky was delightful, bringing out a burnished quality to his baritone. His first aria, “Odnazhdy v Versale,” opened with a suave tone that slowly became darker as he went to the lower notes, and he continuously repeated the lines, “Tri karty.” The haunting sound reverberated with a chilling effect as he got to the climax of his aria. In Act three, “The Song of the Card Player,” Markov sang with a high-spirited baritone as he relished each phrase. His sound took on a brighter tone that emphasized the banality of gambling.

As Prince Yeletsky, Igor Golavatenko was reprising the role he sang during his debut. His voice is sturdy and powerful, especially in the Act three gambling scene where he lets out his full sound with authority. However, his famed “Ya vas lyublyu,” saw the baritone struggle to sing with a full, elegant legato line. His voice often obtained a grainy sound that was distracting, and the dynamic colors were not varied enough. In his second repeat of the melody, there didn’t seem to be a contrast from the first time he sang it.

Chad Shelton and Raymond Aceto performed Tchekalinsky and Sourin to perfection, mocking Hermann at every turn, while Edyta Kulczak demonstrated a powerful voice as Masha. Jill Grove was also impressive and comical in her role as the governess.

The One Question

While every vocal performance was undeniably great throughout, the one inconsistency was unfortunately in the pit. Keri-Lynn Wilson was at her best during the preludes of the acts. The opening of the opera had a strong sense of dramatic build, the tension allowed to boil and the final explosion cathartic. The second act, with opens with a Mozartian dance, was vibrant and propulsive. And the opening to Act three had a haunting quality, the strings in particular feeling on knife’s edge in all the best possible ways.

The issues stemmed mainly when she was working with the singers. It might have been an issue of rehearsal time and the cast instability with the lead tenor (who is in every single scene) arriving so late to the party, but throughout the night, there seemed to be a disconnect between the stage and the pit. The chorus started off shaky and sloppy and in subsequent scenes it got marginally better until cohesion was found during the drinking song in the final scene. But even with the soloists it seemed to be a bit of a tug-of-war of conductor and soloists trying to figure each other out. Yoncheva’s opening aria worked mainly because the soprano opted for doing her own thing and having the conductor follow her. But Soghomonyan was visibly shaking his body to the beat during his Act two scene with the Countess, his eyes at one point shifting toward the pit. He managed to maintain the dramatic intensity of the scene but it was not an optimal situation for anyone.

That said, she did calibrate the balance pretty well throughout with Urmana’s pianissimo singing allowed to flourish under a gentle orchestra. And Soghomonyan’s “Prosti, prelestnoe sozdanye” also got ample support and built alongside the orchestra seamlessly.

After a season that got off to the rockiest of starts, this proved to be the perfect opera to end the season on. And I won’t harp on the Live in HD train yet again as I did with “Ainadamar” and “Moby Dick,” but this opera has never been transmitted on the vaunted series. This was the cast to do it with. Hopefully the strength of this run motivates a revival with the same singers and a transmission to boot. In the meantime, don’t miss out on this masterpiece interpreted by masterful artists.