Fidelio - Speight's Corner with Maestro Asher Fisch

Sit in on a conversation between General Director Speight Jenkins and Principal Guest Conductor Asher Fisch about Beethoven's radiant ode to freedom and humanity. Topics include the unique demands of the title role, how Beethoven composed such rigorous and dramatic music despite his hearing loss, and why the opera is so timeless and relevant to our everyday lives.

Learn more about Fidelio on the Seattle Opera Website.

Free Sweeney Todd starring Seattle Opera and Seattle Public Theatre's Teen Performers

Though we only have a few more performances of Turandot, another great show is about to open: a group of teens participating in a Seattle Opera & Seattle Public Theatre camp open their production of Sweeney Todd this Friday at the Bath House on Green Lake! These young performers have been rehearsing daily over the past few weeks, working under the stage direction of Kelly Kitchens (from Seattle Public Theatre) and the music direction of Barbara Lynne Jamison, Seattle Opera's Youth Programs Manager.

“Putting on a performance in such a short amount of time really pushes kids to dig deeply,” says Jamison of this camp experience. “They’ve shown a really high work ethic. These actors are really talented, and many of them don’t typically sing, but they’ve found their voices and have been able to apply them to these characters.”

And it’s not just the performers on stage who have benefited from the experience. There is also a stage management team comprised of high school students. Sweeney Todd’s costumes are designed by high school senior Amy MacDonald.

All that talent and hard work will be on display for a string of performances that begin this Friday, August 17, at 7 p.m. Other performances will be held on August 18, 24 & 25 at 7 p.m., and August 19, and 25 at 2 p.m. All performances are FREE and open to the public. We’d love to see you there! For more information, visit http://www.seattlepublictheater.org/education-performance.htm.

The cast of Sweeney Todd.

To learn how your child can take part in one of Seattle Opera's many Education opportunities, visit http://www.seattleopera.org/discover/learn/children/programs_for_children.aspx.

Photos by Bill Mohn

Turandot Broadcast Night Q&A with Speight Jenkins

After every performance, General Director Speight Jenkins hosts a free Q&A session in the lecture hall at McCaw Hall. Listen to this live recording as Jenkins candidly answers the audience's questions after the Saturday, August 11, performance of Turandot. This Q&A session was also broadcast live on KING FM and can be found on their 24-hour Seattle Opera Channel.

Meet Our Singers: LUIS CHAPA, Calaf

Mexican tenor Luis Chapa made his U.S. debut with Seattle Opera last season, as Don José in Carmen, and he's back now to sing Calaf in Turandot (pictured right, photo by Elise Bakketun). Today we ask Chapa about his role, and find out what motivates Calaf and why we should root for him. We also learn why Chapa wasn't impressed by "Nessun dorma" the first time he heard it!

Chapa sings one more performance of Turandot, this Sunday, August 12. For more information, visit seattleopera.org/turandot.

Welcome back to Seattle! What have you been up to since making your U.S. debut here last October as Don José?
Well, I have had quite a few interesting productions. I did my first Tannhäuser, which was a great success, I did a few Otellos, and quite a few concerts. And then took three months off, which I needed to do after working nonstop for the last three years. I stayed at home in London with my wife and my daughter, went to the gym in the mornings, did scales in the afternoon, and relaxed. And now here we are.

Luis Chapa as Don José in Seattle Opera's 2011 production of Carmen.
Photo by Elise Bakketun

And now you’re back for Calaf in Turandot. Have you sung this role before?
Yes, I’ve done it in Poland and also in the UK. But I have to say this one in Seattle is one of the most interesting productions of Turandot I’ve done. The concept is fantastic.

What sets it apart from other productions?
That it’s not the standard stand-and-deliver. There is so much care for the details here and the human relationship between Turandot and Calaf is brought to the forefront. It’s about the people. It should always be like that, but it’s not always the case—so thank God we have this director [Renaud Doucet].

Let’s talk about Calaf. Do you like this character, or relate to him?
Well, you know, when I prepare a role, I don’t try to like him. I try to study the character and to merge into the parts of his personality I can interpret the best. He’s a prince—a deposed prince, but still a prince—so he’s a person who sees the chance to regain a kingdom, and he considers himself at the same level of any princess or queen. So he goes into the riddles as if he were Turandot’s equal. He’s very confident, but without being cocky. He knows he belongs there, and that he can win the challenge.

Luis Chapa (Calaf) and Marcy Stonikas (Turandot) in Seattle Opera's current production of Turandot.
Photo by Elise Bakketun

Of course, Calaf is most famous for singing “Nessun dorma.” Do you remember the first time you heard this aria?
Well, obviously, the Three Tenors concert, that goes without saying. That was the first time I heard it, and I have to say it didn’t have much of an impact on me. I thought it was a nice song, but it only really started to interest me when I heard it within the context of the whole opera, because it represents the credo of Calaf. He’s somebody that believes he’s going to win in whatever he does, and when I heard “Nessun dorma” in the opera, I said, “Ah. That’s it!” With all the power of the opera behind it, it’s climactic and so good. But when I hear it on its own, it’s just a nice tune.

Do you ever get nervous about singing an aria so beloved and anticipated?
No, not nervous. But I get very excited. It’s like driving in a race with a very good car. This is a super production, the staging is formidable, the acoustics in McCaw Hall are some of the best, so if I’m going to sing this piece—and, yes, most tenors make or break with this particular aria—I’m being provided here with the very best tools. If I were singing it with just an orchestra and in a very bad theater, I’d be nervous. But in this situation, I’m excited.

You can hear a clip of Luis Chapa singing "Nessun dorma" HERE.

Peter Rose (Timur) and Luis Chapa (Calaf) in Seattle Opera's current production of Turandot.
Photo by Elise Bakketun

What motivates Calaf? Is it really love, or is it something else?
I think he wants to be back in royalty. That has to be his first motivation. In the process, he gets bewitched by Turandot’s beauty. And that’s a great passion that becomes very human in the end, but his first motivator is to regain a kingdom. It has to be, otherwise it’s not real—unless he takes a potion, an elixir de amor, you cannot make that work.

So you’re saying he wouldn’t risk his life only to win someone’s love.
No, because if he were to do that, he would do it for Liù. If he were that kind of man, he would do it for Liù. The motivator is the kingdom.

Since you bring it up, how does Calaf see Liù?
You see, if I’m honest, everybody will hate me. [Laughs] That’s why I don’t identify with the character. He’s a prince, she’s a slave. Within this context, there’s a separation. Obviously she saved his father, so he’s very grateful to her and her commitment, and he’s very moved by the sacrifice she made. But kings, queens, princes, they expect people to die for them. But Liù is a formidable character and I think if she were to live and the story were to develop, she could be a princess somewhere else, with her fortitude, her character. But it is how it is.

Grazia Doronzio (Liù) and Luis Chapa (Calaf) in Seattle Opera's current production of Turandot.
Photo by Elise Bakketun

Why should the audience like Calaf, then? What do you want the audience to see in him?
A human being, born into royalty, who has a mission in life. Obviously, in times of crisis, we don’t tend to think about the rich, but rich people who lose their fortunes also suffer—in a different way, but they also suffer. Suffering and pain is not particular to a certain social status. So, Calaf is somebody who lost absolutely everything. He thought his family had been killed, but it turns out his father had become a beggar. Calaf was in exile, and perhaps he was a beggar himself. And then he sees his chance to regain a kingdom and to, at the same time, fall in love with a princess. He’s lost everything but he fights his way back. It’s very comfortable to stay in the position of a victim, and he refuses to do that. There’s valor in that.

Turandot - The Hair & Makeup Challenge

Watch time-lapse footage of the Seattle Opera Hair & Makeup Crew as they prepare over 100 "People of Peking" in just 1 hour.



Learn more about Turandot on the Seattle Opera Website

Meet Our Singers: GRAZIA DORONZIO, Liù

Last Sunday, Italian soprano Grazia Doronzio made her Seattle Opera debut as Liù in Turandot. As a tortured slave with a giant heart, Liù stands in contrast to the the cold Princess Turandot, and we speak to Grazia about this wonderful character and her music, below.

Grazia will also sing Liù in tonight's performance, and for a final time on Sunday, August 12. To learn even more about Grazia, visit the Made in Italy Mall blog, which recently posted an in-depth interview with the soprano.

For more on Turandot visit seattleopera.org/turandot.

First, welcome to Seattle Opera! Could you tell us a little about your background?
Well, I’m from Stigliano, which is a small village in Matera, in the south of Italy. I started to take voice lessons when I was about 15 or 16 years old, and then I went to the Conservatorio Rossini in Pesaro, and then to Rome, to the Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia. After that, I did the Lindemann Young Artist Development Program at the Metropolitan Opera.

What have been your favorite roles to sing, so far in your career?
I think, at the very top of my list, there are three favorite roles: Liù, Mimì, and Susanna.

Grazia Doronzio as Liù in Seattle Opera's current production of Turandot.
Photo by Elise Bakketun

What do you like so much about Liù?
I think Liù is real. She’s the right combination of strength and sweetness. It’s a real human being in this character. She is very strong, but she’s also fragile and sweet and very helpful. She wants to take care of everything. But she also struggles with being insecure about her situation, because of course she’s scared.

Also, she loves. That’s so important for me to remember when I think about Liù. In this opera, she’s the one most capable of love.

The audience tends to like her as much as you do! Sometimes she overshadows even Turandot.
[Laughs] Well, I think this could also be because of the beautiful music Puccini wrote for Liù. Of course, in Turandot, everyone knows “Nessun dorma,” maybe the most famous tenor aria. But I think that the music Puccini wrote for this young girl is such special music. I think the public loves Liù also because of her music.

Which of her arias is your favorite?
I have three beautiful arias, so it’s hard to decide! I think the most moving aria is the first one, “Signore, ascolta!” and I think the reason is because it’s the first moment—well, aside from a small phrase she says earlier—when she finally finds courage to tell him to listen to her. I think in that aria, Liù talks to Calaf not only for herself, but on behalf of Timur.

Marcy Stonikas (Turandot) and Grazio Doronzio (Liù) in Seattle Opera's current production of Turandot. Both sopranos sing their roles for the final time in this production on Sunday, August 12.
Photo by Elise Bakketun

Don’t you just wish Calaf would forget about Turandot and fall in love with Liù instead?
I think probably everybody in the audience hopes this! [Laughs] But it’s impossible, because of her status. Liù is a slave, Calaf is a prince. She cannot even think of it. She wouldn’t have ever dared to talk to him—so when she finally does talk to him, she knows it’s already too much. There is no hope that they could be together, considering both their statuses.

So, how would you describe the relationship between Liù and Timur? She’s his slave, but there also seems to be a real affection there.
It’s interesting. Timur is a king, even if he lost his battle and is in trouble now. He’s still a king. But he also needs help, and he found in Liù the only help available. She really takes care of him. She wants to help and make sure everything is fine, and she knows she’s the only one who can help him. She brings with her everything they have—the few things, the few bags—and she carries it all, and even helps Timur to walk. He is blind, so he can’t go anywhere without Liù. So this changes their relationship, because at this point she becomes a human, and not just a slave. We can actually see a huge difference in the behavior between Liù and Calaf and Liù and Timur. With Timur, she’s a person. With Calaf, she’s a slave. It’s so immediate.

Peter Rose (Timur) and Grazia Doronzio (Liù) in Seattle Opera's current production of Turandot.
Photo by Elise Bakketun

Do you think Timur knew all along that Liù was in love with his son?
I would say probably not. I think the first big revelation is at the beginning of the opera, when Timur says to Calaf, “She’s been helping me all this time when you were not with me, because I thought you were dead. She was my only support and my guide.” And Calaf is surprised and talks to Liù—suddenly, for the first time, he notices this slave—and says “Why did you do this? Why did you suffer with him?” And she says, “I’m doing this because you once smiled at me.” I think it’s at that moment that Timur understands.

Meet Our Singers: MARCY STONIKAS, Turandot

Making her role debut today as Turandot is Marcy Stonikas, one of the incredible singers who has come through Seattle Opera’s Young Artists Program. Operagoers of the Pacific Northwest first heard Marcy’s thrillingly warm, lush, soprano in 2010, when she sang Ariadne in the YAP production of the Strauss opera; she returned the next season, for Donna Anna in the YAP Don Giovanni, and made her mainstage debut a month later as the Second Lady in The Magic Flute. She’s ready now for even greater challenges, taking on the demanding title roles of Turandot and Fidelio—and one new role which is more important than any other.

Marcy, since we heard you in those Mozart roles last year, you’ve become a mother!
Yes, last September. Of course that’s been amazing. It’s really funny, people always say “It changes your life!” “It’s the best thing that will ever happen to you!” “You’ll live through your kid,” and I’m like, “Yeah, yeah, yeah...” But everything they say is true. Henry, my son, is so much like my husband and I, in some strange, funny ways.

And we, the Seattle Opera audience, know your husband, Brian Simmons...
That’s right, because he played the Sherriff in Porgy and Bess last summer.

So what is it Henry does that’s reminiscent of Brian and you?
He furrows his brow exactly the way Brian does. And a ten-month old baby furrowing his brow is hilarious. People say his eyes look like mine...when he smiles, they say he looks just like me. Also, and he’s like me in this: when Henry gets hungry, you need to feed him immediately, or he becomes very difficult to handle. My husband is a pro at this!

And do you sing to him?
I do. A friend was visiting the other day, and Henry was cranky, he needed to go down for a nap, and I was rocking him and singing...

What were you singing?
“Toora loora loora,” this Irish lullaby. And Ilga, my friend, thought it was funny because his feet, which were tense, like this [demonstrates], the second I started singing they went limp, his whole body relaxed, and he fell asleep! And she said, “But has he ever REALLY heard you sing?” And yes, first of all he heard me sing five operas in utero. And he heard me sing Donna Anna again this summer, and heard me coaching Turandot a bunch. He listens very acutely to me, when I’m singing, he focuses, ‘vwoop!’ [demonstrates] and smiles...

Good audience!
Yes, very good audience. So long as he’s well-fed.

Marcy Stonikas as Princess Turandot
Elise Bakketun, photo

You can hear a brief clip of Marcy Stonikas singing Turandot HERE.

Just like all of us. Now here at Seattle Opera we've got you back-to-back singing Turandot and Leonore in Fidelio, both huge roles, and quite different. What’s most important about the difference, to you?
The tessitura, the range of notes where your voice will live all night, is quite different, so you have to warm up a bit differently. I don’t have to go up to a high C a bunch of times for Leonore, like I do for Turandot. But I do have to sing down, in my middle voice, a lot for that role. So I don’t work on them on the same day—I don’t want to warm my voice down, if I’m singing Turandot, and I don’t want to get things too high, if I’m singing Leonore. But technically, you sing everything with the same instrument: I breathe the same way, I approach the notes the same way...

The orchestras are quite different: Beethoven’s orchestra is not as noisy as this humongous Turandot orchestra. Does that affect your work?
No...I don’t think about it that much until I’m with the orchestra, to tell the truth.

Both these roles are considered big, hochdramatisch, ‘laser-soprano’ roles, unlike, say, the lighter Mozart roles you’ve sung for us. But it’s the same game, so far as you’re concerned?
Yes, the idea with singing dramatic soprano roles is keeping the beauty you’ve (hopefully) attained singing Donna Anna, or more lyric things. People expect you just to be loud, singing these roles, but you take it to the next level if you can make it sound pretty at the same time. That’s my goal.

Who are your favorite dramatic sopranos?
Jane Eaglen is my teacher, I idolize her; Nilsson, obviously, who’s amazing and I listen to her every recording like crazy; I love Christine Brewer, and Deborah Voigt...

People who are able to sing with the requisite size of voice, the royal majesty for these roles, and also still be beautiful.
I think so. That’s what makes me want to listen to them.

Marcy Stonikas as Ariadne in the 2010 Young Artists Production, with Joanna Foote as Naiad, Jennifer Edwards as Echo, Jenni Bank as Dryad, and Vira Slywotzky as the Composer
Chris Bennion, photo

What roles will you be singing in five years? We heard a young dramatic soprano here not long ago as Isolde...
Seattle Opera is a big house for such a challenging role. I probably won’t be ready for that so soon.

Have you looked at it?
I’ve performed Isolde’s “Liebestod” before, with orchestra. But that’s at the very end of Tristan und Isolde. You have to be able to sing straight for 2 ½ hours before that! And there’s that long love duet, it’s crazy, depending on the conductor it can be 40 minutes or so...

The part where Jane Eaglen absolutely used to devastate me wasn’t even the “Liebestod,” it was the passage right before that, the “Klage,” where she laments her lover’s death, you know, “How could you leave me here like this?”
Oh, I know. When I was in college my best friend and I traveled six hours from Oberlin, Ohio to Chicago to hear Jane Eaglen and Ben Heppner sing that opera, it was a necessity.

And other roles you’ve got your sights set on?
There will be Wagner: Senta, Elisabeth...

Have you been learning all those arias?
I know them...but I don’t necessarily know the entire the role. Some things don’t need to be rushed into. But the role of Sieglinde, I would learn the whole role right now.

Not just the two arias, “Der Männer Sippe” and “Du bist der Lenz.”
Yes, those I already know. I’d be happy to learn the rest of the role, because I could sing it today. But Elektra? That will have to wait. Salome, maybe, but Elektra, Isolde, Brünnhilde...for those I would wait.

And Die Frau ohne Schatten?
I would do the Empress—not the Dyer’s Wife—in the next five years.

We’re talking about a lot of Wagner and Strauss roles; anything else you’re looking forward to?
I’m happy to work; the goal is to have constant work. I hope that happens, but with these big operas it’s challenging, given the economy.

Turandot condemns the Prince of Persia in Act One
Elise Bakketun, photo

What is on Turandot’s mind at the beginning of the opera? When you come out to condemn the Prince of Persia to death, you don’t have any lines...what are you thinking in that scene?
At the beginning she’s annoyed that this 14, 15 year-old kid, the Prince of Persia, has come to bother her, and had the nerve to think that he could be the Emperor and answer these riddles correctly. You know, Turandot has a difficult position in society: as the Emperor’s daughter she’s a vessel, not even a real person. She has to marry the next Emperor, that’s her main function.

Turandot appears in the Emperor's Throne Room in Act Two
Elise Bakketun, photo

And as a result she resents the Prince of Persia.
Yes, she resents the fact that she has to cut off his head. It’s not that she enjoys it. I really don’t think she enjoys the consequences of these people not knowing the answers to the riddles. It’s a double-edged sword. Of course she doesn’t want to be with someone who she doesn’t want to be with; but she it’s not that she likes killing people.

How did this situation even get set up? Did you figure out the backstory?
Good question. My father says, “Un giuramento atroce mi constringue...” (An atrocious oath constrains me).

Personally, my theory is you danced the Dance of Seven Veils for your father the Emperor, Peter Kazaras, but first made him promise he’d give you whatever you wanted: “If I do this you’ll sign this document that says I can cut off any guy’s head?”
That’s a different opera.

But the point is, it’s like Brünnhilde on the rock surrounded by fire. This set-up with the riddles was supposed to protect Turandot. There wasn’t supposed to be this flood of idiots attracted by the challenge...it was supposed to scare them off, and it doesn’t seem to be working.
Clearly it’s not working, they’re attracted, like moths to a light. Maybe the Emperor just took pity on me because I’m his daughter. I probably said to him, “Come on, dad, seriously...I’m not going to marry just some yahoo who walks in off the street. We have to set it up so we know this person really deserves to be the next you.” Maybe I manipulated the situation a little...

You sang “O mio babbino caro” to him, wrapped your daddy around your little finger like that...
I do!

“Oh, daddy, come on, please!”
That little arietta I sing, after the riddle scene...

Oh, you’re right!
I’m totally whining there. That’s my “O mio babbino caro” moment.

That’s interesting, I’d never noticed that before. Because that [Gianni Schicchi] was the last opera Puccini wrote, right before Turandot. Now, do you worry about the audience sympathizing with Turandot?
Yes. Before I got here that was one of my main concerns, because sometimes it’s not staged that way. The word that comes to mind is ‘Black Widow;’ that’s the way people often perceive her. I was hoping to make her 3-dimensional. So I was very happy when I came here and [Stage Director] Renaud [Doucet] said, “If she’s not 3-dimensional, not sympathetic, not a real person, then what’s the point?” I completely agree, and I was so grateful to hear that from him...I breathed a big sigh of relief, because I didn’t know how I was going to do it. This is my first time singing this part. So now, every other time, even if I’m directed differently, I can know in my mind where she’s coming from.

When you say ‘3-dimensional,’ or ‘not a real person,’ what is it about Turandots you’ve seen before that hasn’t connected?
She’s just evil! Manipulative, an ice queen and that’s it. I didn’t want to go there.

Turandot (Marcy Stonikas) asks riddles of the Unknown Prince (Luis Chapa)
Elise Bakketun, photo

Why does she sing “In questa reggia” [the aria in which she explains her vendetta against men] to Calaf?
She always sings that. If you notice, Ping, Pang, and Pong yawn at the beginning of the aria—that’s because they’ve heard it so many times before. It’s the story she’s been told all her life, and she has so identified with Princess Lo-u-ling she’s kind of singing about herself. The need to protect herself, to maintain a strong boundary when all these princes come a-knockin’.

So what’s different about Calaf? And when do you realize that something is different about him?
First of all, he’s a good-looking man.

The Prince of Persia, in our production at least, looks very young...
I’m not marrying a 15 year-old kid. And secondly, I respect the fact that Calaf answered all these questions correctly. And there’s an element of compassion I see when he is outraged at Liù’s death. That’s the real transformation for Turandot. She certainly doesn’t like having to torture Liù, but she doesn’t have any other options at that point, except to give up control and, I don’t know, go enter a convent. She wants the answer, but certainly doesn’t mean for it to go so far. The hardest part is making sure that my reaction to Liù’s death is very strong, as strong as it needs to be. That’s where the character really becomes 3-dimensional.

Turandot (Marcy Stonikas) and the Unknown Prince come to terms with the death of Liù
Elise Bakketun, photo

Turandot: Preview

Our new preview video of Turandot dress rehearsal footage (complete with full orchestra & chorus) showcases the stunning pageantry, memorable melodies, and passionate performances of this monumental new-to-Seattle production.



Learn more about Turandot on the Seattle Opera Website

Meet Our Artists: ANDRÉ BARBE, Set and Costume Designer

The other night, I was fortunate to be able to pull Set and Costume Designer André Barbe, left, out of Turandot rehearsal and to speak with him about this production and the career he shares. Barbe & Doucet make their Seattle Opera debut Saturday night with Turandot. We talked about such subjects as Ping, Pang, and Pong’s top hats and martinis; about the meld of North American and European influences on his work; and about his remarkable partnership with our stage director and choreographer Renaud Doucet (right).

Let me first ask you the same question I asked Renaud, in a separate interview; could you tell us a little about how your partnership works? It’s unusual in being exclusive—often, designers who do new productions like to work with people they’ve worked with before, but in your case you ONLY work together. For instance, he doesn’t direct shows that aren’t designed by you.
No, not since 2000. We are partners in life, as well as crime, and this business can be difficult because so many people end up going on the road and missing their family, their children and spouse and wife and boyfriend. So we said, why don’t we do a partnership and work together. I was working a lot in television at the time, doing my own thing, and he was doing his own thing, and we had to cut off some of the artistic relationships we had with other people, at a time when it was working quite well. But it ended up being a good decision. At the time, I was working a lot in television and theater, in Montreal, and suddenly reality TV started up and people decided there was no need for sets anymore. So the timing was perfect. After twelve years, now we realize it was the best decision we ever made.

But at the time it seemed like a risk—you would be turning down work.
It was a gamble. The thing is, we’re very different, we’re complementary. Renaud is from the south of France, and I’m from North America. Our language is similar, but it’s not the same. I think that’s our strength; I think the two of us together are stronger than me by myself or him by himself. Renaud is a Taurus, he will bang on doors and open them, and I’m a Pisces, I will be a little bit more in my mind. He’s fire and I’m water, what’s great is that together we can make water boil. But the water shouldn’t put out the fire, and the fire shouldn’t make the water evaporate. It’s a question of balance, and I think we’ve found it.

You mention you’re personal partners as well as professional partners.
Yes, we are. We aren’t married but that’s something we want to do, we believe in it.

And legally, as Canadians, you’re allowed to.
Yes!

Here in Washington, we’re working on that. In any event, tell us more about the Chinese imagery, the symbols that have influenced your designs for this production. The circles, for instance...I was just noticing in there [points towards auditorium], you’ve created this series of circles as multiple prosceniums, so it ends up forming a kind of tunnel leading your eye to the back of the stage, where there’s this little box.

Production photo of the Barbe & Doucet Turandot taken at Pittsburgh opera
David Bachman photo

It starts with the moon. There’s this big circle onstage at the beginning of the first act, when they sing about the moon, which is the symbol of Turandot. And inside the moon there’s a box in which she and the Emperor, whom they call figlio del cielo (son of the skies) both appear. He’s literally carrying the sky on his shoulders, and he’s tired of doing this. He wants his daughter to marry and give him a grandson, some future. I think what Turandot is about is that you have to learn who you are to be truly happy. Her status as a princess has certainly kept Turandot in a certain situation...did you see that wonderful film by Bertolucci, The Last Emperor, about Pu Yi, who became the Emperor of China when he was 3 years old...

Yes, yes, I loved it. Interesting, that film is totally in the tradition of Puccini’s Turandot, a grandiose Italian spectacle about China.
Yes, of course with Turandot we’re not doing the “real” China, we’re doing an Italian version of it. Puccini never saw what real China was. But in terms of the symbolism, the circle is an important figure in Chinese iconography, and everything in the set is a circle: the platform, the arches, the flowers, this shape of the disc which she wears in her costume—and we gave it to the Emperor and the chorus too, the soldiers and the wise men. Also, in a production like this, when you have to move a lot of people very quickly, it’s more interesting when it’s circular; it draws you in and brings people together. That’s what we wanted to do, with the set.

And you mix time periods, too, in the design.
Well, we used different eras of Chinese history; we wanted to make the Emperor have the look of an older dynasty, with Turandot a younger one, and with Ping, Pang, and Pong being more toward the beginning of the twentieth century.

Costumes designed by André Barbe for Emperor Altoum (left) and Ping (right)

They really belong in that Bertolucci Last Emperor, the bureacrats with cigars, who are beginning to westernize things...
Totally, and they are a mixture. The opera was created in 1926, but originally these are characters from commedia dell’arte. They’re a little bit like cabaret singers. One is wearing a top hat, another a bowler, and they’re all wearing spats, and they do a dance...

Costume pieces designed by André Barbe for Ping, Pang, and Pong

Sort of 1920s vaudeville.
They’re drinking martinis and smoking cigarettes. It may not be from the vocabulary of a fairy-tale Chinese court, but that’s not the only thing the show is about. These three want to do their job, but Turandot is preventing them. One is overworked by doing too many funerals, the other wants to do a wedding at last.

The decapitated heads of Turandot’s former suitors are actually woven into her cloak, which we see during the Riddle Scene. How did you come up with that idea?
This year is the 60th anniversary of Queen Elizabeth on the throne, and they’ve been showing the footage of when she was young, when they put this huge crown on her. She was so little and fragile, and you saw this heavy weight of responsibility on her head. We were trying to find something equivalent. Of course that’s how royal costumes work in any civilization; when you see it, you need to be impressed with the look, the costume, the pageantry. But Turandot is often called an “ice princess.” So we said, why not put the heads, the frozen heads of the suitors, in her royal coat, to impress the people who try to answer her riddles. In a way she’s asking them, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

When Turandot opens her arms we see the lining of her cloak, weighted down by the frozen faces of her former suitors; costume design by André Barbe

“Look, this is where you’re head’s going to end up!”
Or chemically reduced to this state. We wanted something more than her headpiece, her jewels, her glamorous look. As she’s singing “In questa reggia,” she suddenly opens her arms and we see the weight of her responsibility, it’s frightening. And she takes off that coat when Calaf answers the riddles.

Glancing through pictures of many of your productions, you seem drawn toward the fantastical and wild. Have you ever designed for historical or romantic realism?
Not really. Since Renaud and I have been working together, we haven’t done much standard repertoire...and I don’t think we would do something like that, even if it were a verismo opera. We created a Cavelleria Rusticana & Pagliacci; it wasn’t that crazy, but there was symbolism in it.

It wasn’t just a village in Sicily.
No. It took place in a baseball field, under an electrical lamppost with lots of wires going through it. The communication circuits were overcrowded, and you knew there was going to be an explosion at some point. So you see, we used a metaphor, but it was still a realistic place. We want the audience to understand the intentions of the composer perfectly. But we also understand that we are talking to a twenty-first century audience. So we’ll give them something they can understand, as well as a second and third and fourth degree for the people who are really into it.

Production photo of the Barbe & Doucet Cendrillon
Thierry Ha photo

How do you make sure you’re addressing both levels?
It depends on the audience. For instance, we did a production of Cendrillon, and because it was for a European house they wanted us to speak more about our culture than about French castles and princesses. We set it in the ‘50s in North America, but in a dream-world. The fairy godmother came from the TV, she was a sort of Lucille Ball character. And Cendrillon was cleaning up this big kitchen with electrical appliances. At one point in the fairy-tale they go to a magic oak tree, so here it was a drive-in theater, “La chêne enchantée” (The Enchanted Oak), we called it, and they were watching films of princesses such as Princess Grace or Queen Elizabeth II. They were sitting in a huge ‘50s car, and we wrote on the license plate “JM 1899,” just a little tidbit for those who knew Jules Massenet wrote that opera in 1899. Little details like that, not important so you haven’t missed anything if you don’t pick up on it, but it’s fun for those who are paying close attention.

“Easter Eggs,” they call them, when you hide special features on DVDs. On another topic, who are your mentors and biggest influences, as a designer and person of the theater?
My influences are a mixture of North American and European designers. As a child I used to watch a lot of musical theater films; those were a big influence on me, certainly, in terms of color. But traveling in Europe—I never lived there, but I travel a lot and always go to theater—I picked up more of a European flavor. I studied at the National Theater School of Canada, in Montreal, where you have people coming from all over Canada, and foreign countries, and classes in both French and English. My teacher, François Barbeau, a famous French-Canadian costume designer, who had worked with everybody, he was probably the biggest influence on me. He wanted us to learn to see things with different eyes: how do French people see, how do Americans see, why do they see this way, what’s important in this society. And Renaud and I have always taken this lesson to heart. If we’re asked to do a production of Turandot in the United States, it will be different from a production we do for Europe.

Because you know the audience will see it differently.
Yes, their backgrounds are very different. If you’re doing a rarely-done opera in the U.S. and it’s the first time most of the audience will have seen it, it’s most important for them to get to know the piece. But in Vienna, with The Magic Flute...there are three major theaters, each with their own current production of Magic Flute, and lots of previous productions. The people are born with it. I saw a little boy, 7 years old, listening to Magic Flute in Vienna and conducting it at the same time, and I knew: this boy has been raised with it. So they are ready for different approaches. They can go to the Staatsoper and see a traditional one, they can go to the Volksoper and see a wacky one...but sometimes when you present a piece here in North America it’s the only time it’s going to be presented.

André Barbe in the Seattle Opera costume shop, with photos taken at costume fittings for each member of the 70+ person chorus

Turandot, for example. We haven’t done Turandot here in Seattle since 1996.
Imagine, some people will be coming to see this who weren’t even born then. Our goal is to bring people to the opera. We don’t want to frighten them; we want to stimulate them. I love opera. Unlike Renaud I’m not a musician. I don’t play music, though I can read a little bit. But I’ve loved opera since I was a child, ever since my grandparents introduced me to it. It gave me goosebumps. It feels good when I listen to it, and I want it to feel that good for the audience. How many art forms today, when you listen to music or watch something, give you goosebumps? Not many. But here, in a live performance, with a hundred people onstage, 75 people in the pit, it’s fantastic. I’m pinching myself every day, saying, “Look at that! How lucky are we?”