In 2026 Teatro alla Scala once again presents “Turandot.” This is one of the house’s emblematic titles, this time reviving the production by Davide Livermore, originally conceived in 2024 to mark the centenary of Giacomo Puccini’s death. This revival gains additional significance as it joins the celebrations of the hundredth anniversary of the opera’s world premiere in 1926.

Livermore’s staging, here revived by Laura Galmarini, reaffirms its strong visual impact, structured around the set design by Paolo Gep Cucco and Eleonora Peronetti, costumes by Mariana Fracasso, lighting by Antonio Castro, and video design by D-Wok. The production fully exploits the technological capabilities of La Scala’s stage: video mapping, augmented reality, and constantly moving machinery combine to create a spectacular visual universe.

The first act appears set in a rural, peripheral neighborhood, far removed from the traditional sumptuous palace typically associated with “Turandot.” Livermore blends a contemporary rustic China with an oneiric and minimalist space. In his own words, “an invented universe with some recognizable elements,” which proves effective in theatrical terms. He proposes an East distanced from the stereotypes of grand traditional productions, opting instead for a certain scenic verismo. Particularly striking is the large suspended lunar sphere. This is a recurring visual element, the meaning of which evolves through symbolic projections, eventually resembling Puccini’s face after Liù’s death — precisely at the last phrase the composer wrote before his own death in 1924. The final scenes, in contrast to the first, unfold within a black box with minimal scenic elements. The presence of a horse and birds in flight introduces the fable-like dimension suggested by Puccini. Fracasso’s elegant and regal costumes, Castro’s lighting design, and D-Wok’s audiovisual work coherently reinforce the director’s vision.

In the pit, Nicola Luisotti delivered a solid and well-structured reading of Puccini’s score. His direction was meticulously attentive to nuance and volume, demonstrating deep stylistic mastery. His tempi proved highly effective in highlighting the characters’ intentions without neglecting the orchestral passages or compromising vocal projection. The conductor’s baton was precise and incisive, resulting in a performance of remarkable clarity. Consequently, the Orchestra del Teatro alla Scala responded with its customary precision and quality, sustaining a score of considerable orchestral complexity with confidence. The Teatro alla Scala Chorus, prepared by Alberto Malazzi, once again proved central to the production, contributing not only vocally but also with a modest choreographic component.

In the title role, Anna Pirozzi delivered a Turandot marked by experience and assurance. Her voice, powerful and rich in high notes, navigates the upper register with ease, maintaining careful control over emission and diction. Her phrasing, always attentive to the text, shaped a complex princess capable of gradually evolving toward greater humanity. Her strong, dramatic reactions during the riddle scene further confirmed her as a convincing interpreter of the role.

As Calaf, Roberto Alagna offered a solid stage presence and a clear awareness of the character’s dramatic weight. Vocally, however, was a different story. While the high notes remain present, powerful, and supported, they often sound forced, less brilliant than in previous years, and occasionally opaque, limiting the full realization of a role that demands youthful freshness and heroic drive. The tenor delivered what was undoubtedly the most anticipated moment of the evening, the aria “Nessun dorma,” with vigor and commitment, despite noticeable and entirely understandable fatigue. In any case, his Calaf remains highly effective both dramatically and vocally, particularly in the first act. When fresh and relaxed, his experience is evident.

Mariangela Sicilia, for her part, crafted an intense and musically refined Liù. Endowed with a soft timbre and beautifully shaped high notes, she portrayed a character of great sensitivity, demonstrating remarkable control of filato in the upper reaches of “Signore, ascolta.” Her performance successfully connected with the audience, especially following her death scene, which was visually striking.

The trio of masks deserves special mention. Biagio Pizzuti (Ping), Paolo Antognetti (Pang), and Francesco Pittari (Pong), well-balanced both vocally and theatrically, effectively conveyed both the ironic dimension and the underlying melancholy of their characters. RiccardoZanellato offered a dignified Timur, more convincing dramatically than vocally, while Gregory Bonfatti provided an adequate Altoum. Alberto Petricca (Mandarin) and the comprimari roles completed the cast effectively, all well integrated into the ensemble.

A century after its premiere, “Turandot” reaffirms itself as a work of powerful theatrical impact, as demonstrated by the sustained and enthusiastic ovations for the three principal performers and the conductor following a performance of notable execution.