Where most productions of Turandot focus on the glory of the Imperial Court, NGO’s new Turandot doesn’t even get in the front door. Part of this is due to the setting, in the Greek amphitheatre of The Odeon of Herodes Atticus, and another part of this is the vision of stage director Andrei Şerban and sets and costume designer Chloe Obolensky.

Instead of seeing Princess Turandot as the victim of an administration that demanded marriage and children for success, they picture her as the head of a vicious death cult that holds not only the court but also the entire city of Peking in thrall to her sanguinous demands.

Giacomo Puccini: Turandot – Act I: Popolo di Pekino! (Michael Mofidian, Mandarin; Santa Cecilia Academy Chorus, Rome; Santa Cecilia Academy Orchestra, Rome; Antonio Pappano, cond.)

This seems a bit unfair to our Princess Turandot. To support her No Men position, she’s had to come up with a long-ago ancestress, Lo-u-Ling, who was the victim of a long-ago rape and murder (thoughtfully, if inexplicably, depicted in a pre-overture pantomime}. Nothing like starting your opera with a gratuitous Asian-babe rape and murder scene to get everyone in the mood. No one who dies is permitted to rest in peace – Ancestress Lo-u-Ling and her 6 scythe-wielding female guards seem to be always around, dressed in red floaty coats. The Prince of Persia, who is beheaded at the beginning of the opera as the reward for his failure at the marriage quiz, also keeps appearing on stage, his head shrouded in a red sack, and sits on a pole in line with those of the previous failures. No wonder our poor Princess seems so crazy. She’s surrounded by dead people.

We mentioned before the siting of the opera outside the walls of the Imperial Palace. The stage at the Odeon of Herodes Atticus is broad and narrow. For this opera, the front of the stage was extended over the orchestra, providing the singers with more space to move around. This helped enormously.

The Odeon stage built out over the orchestra. Chorus standing in the audience, 2025 (Photo by G. Antonoglou) (Greek National Opera)

Excellent use was also made of the backdrop of the building itself: Turandot, her father, and the ghost of Lo-u-Ling all appear at the top of the building to great dramatic effect.

Turandot appears at the top of the palace walls, 2025 (Photo by V. Isaeva) (Greek National Opera)

The interview in the programme book with the set and costume designer, Chloe Obolensky, made much of the point that both Chinese and Greek elements were used – we were a bit puzzled about this, unless the Greek elements were in the reeds at the side of the stage or the long black veils that some of the dancers had hanging off their hair. The Chinese element, too, was a bit on the generic Asian side, let alone the complete misunderstanding about the meanings of colour in a Chinese context. White = death. To dress Turandot in white (not the silver as mentioned by one of her ministers) was a fundamental error. To dress the dead Lu-o-LING in red, the colour of celebration and weddings, was equally wrong. Even the ministers, Ping, Pang, and Pong, talk about the function of those two specific colours in their trio about longing for life in the countryside.

The Three Ministers mourn their country life with Ping (Haris Andrianos), Pang (Yannis Kalyvas), and Pong (Andreas Karaoulis), 2025
(Photo by V. Isaeva) (Greek National Opera)

But, note that even in this moment of culture and placidity at the centre of the stage, the scythe-wielding guards of the Ancestress are killing men on each side of the stage. And, of course, your ministers wear animal bones as hats.

Also, when they are discussing how sad they were that the Unknown Prince banged the gong to indicate his willingness to go through the three questions, please, have a gong! The puzzle of how Calaf announced his candidacy left a hole at the end of the first act.

Lise Lindstrom as Turandot conveyed the character well – suitably haughty as required and yet able to abandon that pose when necessary. Vocally, she did a beautiful job, particularly with the riddle scene aria – each successful answer set her back on her heels.

Giacomo Puccini: Turandot – Act II: Straniero, ascolta! … Nella cupa notte (Sondra Radvanovsky, Turandot; Santa Cecilia Academy Orchestra, Rome; Pappano, Antonio cond.)
Giacomo Puccini: Turandot – Act II: Si! Rinasce (Jonas Kaufmann, The Unknown Prince; Santa Cecilia Academy Orchestra, Rome; Pappano, Antonio cond.)

Riccardo Massi, unexpectedly thrust into the opening night cast when Brian Jagde was ill, conveyed the problems that confronted a man split by desire (for Turandot) and duty (to his aged parent and helper). Cellia Costea as Liù was outstanding in a role that often gets pushed to the background.

Timur (Tassos Apostolou) and Liù (Cellia Costea) captured for questioning, 2025 (Photo by V. Isaeva) (Greek National Opera)

After she is tortured, she refuses Turandot’s request to give her the name of the mysterious prince once more and commits suicide.

After Liu is tortured, Ping (Haris Andrianos), Pang (Yannis Kalyvas), and Pong (Andreas Karaoulis), Turandot (Lise Lindstrom), Liù (Cellia Costea), and Lo-u-Ling (Polena Kolia Petersen). 2025 (Photo by G. Antonoglou) (Greek National Opera)

The director, Andrei Şerban, also created the Turandot for the Royal Opera House in London in 1984 and there are many elements of this production that seem based on that one.

Circles of knives around Calaf (Royal Opera House)

Circle of knives, 2025 (Photo by V. Isaeva) (Greek National Opera)

One important change was the position of the choir – in the ROH production, they were positioned around the main stage on two levels. Lacking that kind of space at the Odeon, the choir sat in the first rows of the audience. As the choir represents the people of Peking, this was rather a fortuitous placement: the audience in the whole amphitheatre became the people of Peking and affected the sound so that the chorus seemed to be everywhere. You certainly didn’t see them on stage.

All in all, it was a magical production but with the emphasis on blood rather than the value of love, it seemed more Grand Guignol than Grand Opera.

Puccini: Turandot
Greek National Opera
Odeon of Herodes Atticus
9 pm 1, 3, 5, 6, 8 June 2025

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