Visions of "Onegin"

This afternoon while looking at my facebook posts, I came upon an arts group that was inviting me to watch its Opera Marathon, which is streaming this weekend. I wanted to check out what was being shown---on the list was a production from (I think) the Netherlands of Eugene Onegin, the great opera by Tchaikovsky. I watched the first fifteen minutes of the production, by a European director; the conductor took his place, then a group of well dressed party goers moved onto the stage and mingled a bit in silence, then a man wandered in, attractive, separate--he stands alone. Then the orchestra begins but not with the opening strains of the opera, no, what we hear is a fast dance from the first scene of Act III, which is in fact a fancy ball. All of a sudden a beauatiful young woman arrives on the arm of her escort---she sees the man alone, then shies away from him. Ah, I thought, this is Tatiana, the heroin of the opera,  now married, but once infatuated with the man standing apart---Eugene Onegin. Everything stops, Onegin is mired in thought, then the mid stage opens up, and the orchestra returns to the opening measures of the opera which takes place around seven or eight years before. So the narrative will all be filtered through Onegin's memory. An interesting vision from the director but not at all (at least for me) intrusive. I listened to the opening phrases---a sad love song being sung  by an old nurse--watched the young Tatiana and her sister Olga arrive and then stopped. Why? While it took me a long time to understand and like this piece, I am now overpowered by it. Somehow in the last 20 or so years, Onegin's journey has become my journey. But if I am Onegin, who is my Tatiana? And what circumstances during the time I have recounted creates a meaningful counterpoint to the story of the opera? Have I had my final encounter with "Tatiana" yet, and what would be its result? What a gift Tchaikovsky has given to me! That is all that I can say.
   It is Friday---heat! Strength in and out. Left the apartment around 5;45 A.M. for my first coffee at the deli four blocks away. Is that why I am so tired at parts of the day? And how will this energy or lack of same effect me when the lockdown is lifted and I can move around the city. Oh, how I yearn to go to Brooklyn again--Park Slope, Flatbush the Gotham Market, Cobra Club in Bushwick--anywhere that is different from the upper west side.
 Finished Curtains, a mystery by Agatha Christie that my friend Sarah got for me from her parents'
house. Very skillful---really drew me in---if I could find four or five other of her mysteries, I would
probably just stop everything and read them---they seem to have been created for "shelter in place".
But this is the only one I have---will have to make do.
Lots of classical music concerts and operas that are streaming this weekend, plus many performances of classical works simply exist on youtube. Tonight the Met is streaming its production of La Sonnambula--one that debunks the simplistic narrative of the opera by setting it in a rehearsal
room where the singers are rehearsing---well La Sonnambula. The kind of production that I like
let's see if it works. Will report tomorrow.