Turandot review

Almost laughably old-fashioned, Serban’s staging still works, his cinematic vision polished and presented for the 21st century by Jack Furness (artistic director of Shadwell Opera) and choreographer Kate Flatt. It is good to see familiar props, such as the throne that descends from the heavens bearing the pale, quavery Emperor Altoum; the wheeled platform that bears the glowering Princess through the crowd; and the Lohengrin swan-style bier taking Liù’s body away.

An impressive cast includes Anna Pirozzi, the Turandot of choice in many large opera houses, and the Calaf of Yonghoon Lee, a strapping Korean warrior prince with a steely tenor that equals his Turandot in volume, if not beauty. This lofty couple is complemented by the warm humanity of Masabane Cecilia Rangwanasha as Liù, a role debut for this former Jette Parker Young Artist who is on everyone’s rising-star list. Ukrainian bass Vitalij Kowaljow is a sprightly-sounding Timur. Amid all this doom and foreboding, thank goodness for the commedia dell’arte antics of Ping (amiable baritone Hansung Yoo), Pang (cheeky Welsh tenor Aled Hall) and Pong, played by young Scottish tenor Michael Gibson who is currently on the Young Artist programme. Ignoring the atmosphere of fear and violence, they mock the pompous ceremony with their nimble clowning.

Pirozzi is a classic Turandot – huge, perfumed voice and imperious presence betraying no weakness until the final scene, when masterful Calaf insists on planting a kiss on that icy mouth. Today that could be mistaken for sexual assault, but it is a drop in the ocean of violence conjured by Puccini’s bloody love story.