Turandot, Royal Opera House

Puccini’s Turandot premiered in 1926, two years after the composer’s death, and remains one of the most spectacular works in the operatic canon. Set in a mythical China and packed with drama, riddles, and revenge, it’s Puccini at his boldest, blending pageantry with emotional weight. The Royal Opera House’s revival of Andrei Șerban’s legendary 1984 production, restaged by Jack Furness, sticks to its roots: it’s a visually opulent, ritualistic spectacle, with enough grandeur to match the scale of the music.

What’s new this time is the much-anticipated return of soprano Anna Netrebko in the title role. She doesn’t sing a note until halfway through Act II, but once she begins, there’s no looking away. Her voice, though matured and darker in colour, cuts through Puccini’s thick orchestration with commanding power and surprising tenderness. Netrebko’s Turandot isn’t just an ice queen; her moments of vulnerability, especially in the final duet, add rare depth to a character often played as pure steel.

She’s matched, volume-wise, by tenor Yusif Eyvazov as Calaf, the brave prince who dares to win her love. While his tone can be forceful and nasal, he delivers a roof-raising 'Nessun dorma'. Their chemistry, perhaps shaped by their real-life history, added drama, though Eyvazov’s portrayal lacked some nuance.

The evening’s emotional heart came from Masabane Cecilia Rangwanasha’s Liù. Her two arias were sung with aching beauty, even if not flawless, and her final act sacrifice was deeply affecting. In contrast, the comic trio of Ping, Pang, and Pong (Del Savio, Fonoti-Fuimaono, and Kryshak) brought precision and physical flair, balancing the opera’s darker moments with much-needed levity.

Musically, Daniel Oren kept things under control, favouring broad strokes over detail. His tempi sometimes dragged, and the chorus, impressive in sound and scale, occasionally lagged behind the beat. Still, the sheer mass of sound, paired with the children’s chorus and dancers, created waves of drama.

Visually, the production still impresses. With towering sets, bold costumes, and stylised movement, the staging remains faithful to its 1980s aesthetic without feeling tired. It’s lavish, if sometimes static.

What made this revival special were the 'magic moments', Netrebko’s shimmering high notes, Rangwanasha’s soft phrasing, and the spectacle of the full ensemble. Not quite a five-star night, but close. A strong, confident four.

Photo credit: Camilla Greenwell, RBO