Turandot – Arcola Theatre, London

Composer: Giacomo Puccini

Libretto: Giuseppe Adami and Renato Simoni

Directors: Becca Marriott, Iskandar إسكندر R. Sharazuddin

Puccini’s beautiful, flowing score carries with it a parable of risky ambition and the hazards of the blindness that comes with a singular focus. Centrally, it asks what price is love worth, and how can the real thing be recognised anyway.

Set originally in the court of a regional ruler in ancient China, the version presented here takes a leap into the digital world. The change is significant in terms of what we as a modern audience, drenched daily with calls for the pursuit of online wealth and viral fame at nearly any cost to dignity, can gather from the story.

The central ideas are retained from the classical narrative. Princess Turandot (Reiko Fukuda) will marry the man who can solve three riddles and will kill those who fail in the attempt. With a projected backdrop of video game-like titles and hold screens, Turandot is revealed to be a digital creation, ephemeral and unreachable for anyone mortal and substantial. Would-be suitor Calaf (James Liu) pushes through all warnings and attempts to stop him from successfully capturing Turandot’s hand, leaving us contemplating his behaviour and drive with mounting concern.

The production has cut and snipped its way to a 90-minute running time straight through (other productions can manage three hours with some intervals). As a result, story and world-building have been lost though musically the opera remains strong and well-formed. A truncated ending comes as an abrupt halt and, while it solves the issue the generally performed full version of Turandot has of a rushed and unsatisfying conclusion, it does leave the main characters of Calaf and Turandot unfinished and in limbo. Overall it denies us a chance to explore Calaf’s motivations and drive enough to really get to grips with the character. We don’t really absorb why he’s obsessed with Turandot; he just is.

It is a highly stylised production from co-directors and dramaturges Becca Marriott and Iskandar إسكندر R. Sharazuddin, and scenographer Ingrid Hu, and it presents compelling and relevant ideas in their modern interpretation but feels sluggish and timid in its appearance. At times it’s so slow and static that it feels like a concert performance rather than one fully staged. Cramming a dozen or so performers into a small stage space feels fussy and cramped visually. These performers are accompanied by a solo piano, and by another chorus situated on a raised mezzanine level to the side of the stage. At several points in this small space, the combination of piano and nearly 25 singers is just too much – it’s a wall of sound with little distinction possible. Some difficulties with the synchronisation of the surtitles and diction from the singers where the words are hard to make out means following the action is far from easy. Within all this, and among a good cast generally, a standout performance is delivered by Heming Li as Liu (a servant who loves Calaf selflessly) with beautiful vocals and finely judged acting.

An all-East and South Asian cast adds an intriguing, and powerful, layer of commentary, this time on an artform that has run into difficulty and reckoning with its casting practices. While it certainly does not mean all open issues of representation in opera are answered, it’s a provocative message that should spur thought and deep consideration not only regarding the performers chosen for on-stage roles but also what material is chosen to run, and its treatment by modern creatives.

The shift to a digital setting, and the casting choices, provide much food for thought regarding both the original subject matter and society around us today. But the unappealing production hampers its impact and doesn’t let these smart ideas live up to their potential.

Runs until 26 August 2023