After more than 20 years of frequent performances it seems right for the Hungarian composer/conductor Peter Eötvös’s adapted setting of Chekhov’s 1901 classic play – in its second recording – to join Frankfurt Opera’s ever-ongoing series of repertoire classics. Three Sisters is a big, bold statement of operatic endeavour, perhaps even more radical in its libretto-making – in collaboration with Claus H Henneberg – than its unobjectionably contemporary use of well tried musical forms.

In this project composer and colleague have come up with a rearrangement of Chekhov’s four-act original drama into a Prologue and three ‘Sequences’, the latter of which focus the action (substantially duplicated in the first two) around one of the main characters: Irina, the sisters’ brother Andrei (as opposed to Olga) and Masha. The result is that the libretto (in Russian) itself acts like an interventionist interpretation – and investigative survey – of Chekhov’s text.

Few important narrative details are actually omitted from the new opera even if their order of presentation is changed – and the ‘why’ behind the events (often the major subject of debate when this play is performed) becomes as important, if not more so, than the ‘what’ of their actual happening. It’s a different, heightened dramatic tension which intentionally sets a composer challenges and opportunities that go beyond mere naturalistic illustration. In addition to this the three sisters themselves were sung at first (as in this performance) by male countertenors and their old female nurse Anfisa by a bass. A version for women in these roles also exists.

One especial feature of Eötvös’s setting is his apparent enjoyment of the chance to explore the verbally ambivalent motivations of the arguments which pretty much dominate Chekhov’s dramaturgy (see, for example, the dialogue between Masha and Vershinin in Sequence 3 or even Andrei’s monologue in Sequence 2). There are also some rare and beautiful passages of reflection for the orchestra alone that may remind some of Bartòk.

It’s possible to detect some influences from Stockhausen’s Licht cycle (a work with which Eötvös was involved as co-conductor in the years preceding the creation of Tri Sestry) on the Hungarian’s theatrical distribution of his musical forces, his use of instrumentation and in the numbering of the so-called ‘Adieux’ that close each of the three sections. There are two orchestras: one in the pit of 18 including the solo winds and brass, whose accompaniments especially relate to individual characters (perhaps another Licht influence), and a backstage ensemble of 50 including percussion and two CD players to augment special effects. This group makes an important contribution to the offstage sounds (of events, or music) so frequently annotated by Chekhov and incorporated in the opera through Eötvös’s score.

More separation between the two instrumental groups would have been helpful for the audio-only listener. It’s a busy score – especially in the percussive-like (although not necessarily percussion-led) accompaniment of the many disputes between the characters that are actually rather underwritten in the text of the play: occasionally the sheer detail of sound sources here overwhelms the home listener. But a further – and most serious – problem with this new release is the lack of a libretto, or indeed of links to where one might be found. I resorted to using the one in the issue of L’Avant-Scène Opera (No 204, 2001) devoted to this work which came out very early in the piece’s lifetime – but that’s only of use if your French is adequate, and it has to be purchased.

This Frankfurt performance seems certainly livelier and less careful than the recording taken from the original performance by DG. It is acceptably recorded although there is much stage noise. I would warmly recommend the set as an example of contemporary opera with both an intriguing original subject and a challenging way of setting it. But make sure you can access a translation. The generous number of photos of Frankfurt’s own stage production and a background article which the translator struggles gamely throughout to keep from unreadable pretension should have made way for one.