(Photo: Bart Grietens)

Dutch National Opera opened its 2026 season with a double bill centered on infidelity and adultery. Written close together in the late 19th century and later combined into a single evening, both short operas share a foundation of love, betrayal, and honor killings. Their shared history also includes triumphant premieres, set to gorgeous, Puccini-like music that remains accessible while making the spectacle easy to connect with.

Production Details

DNO opened the season by reviving director Robert Carsen’s acclaimed production—a return driven by its previous success and the enduring relevance of its themes. Instead of setting the story in a rural village rife with gossip, Carsen places it inside an opera house, shifting the drama to a community of choristers, actors, and musicians exhibiting that very same behavior.

Carsen reverses the traditional order, opening with “Pagliacci.” The story follows a traveling theater troupe performing a comedy led by Canio, who plays the clown Pagliaccio. When Canio discovers that his wife, Nedda, is having an affair with Silvio, he is torn apart. As an actor, he must play the laughing clown on stage, but as a man, he is consumed by rage. Stepping into his costume, he sings “Vesti la giubba” (Put on the costume), forced to make the audience laugh while breaking inside. Driven by despair and the damage to his reputation, he kills the lovers Nedda and Silvio mid-performance. The lesson: people are trapped by the judgment of others, forced to play roles dictated by society.

“Cavalleria rusticana” follows four people bound together by love on Easter Sunday. Santuzza is devastated when she sees her lover, Turiddu, kiss his former flame, Lola. Seeking comfort from Turiddu’s mother, Santuzza ultimately ends up isolated and excluded by the community. In desperation, she reveals what she saw to Lola’s husband, Alfio, who takes revenge by killing Turiddu.

Joyful, hopeful Easter music stands in stark contrast to Santuzza’s heartbreak and the betrayal surrounding her. As the chorus sings of Christ’s resurrection, her suffering is laid bare. Everyone watches and judges one another, yet no one sees what lies beneath the surface. Santuzza becomes the abandoned woman, Turiddu the strong man, and Alfio the wronged husband. The community reinforces these predefined roles, keeping each character trapped by public perception.

The Audience Participates

Before the show begins, drumbeats echoed through the DNO foyers, inviting the audience to “take part” in the performance. The tone was set instantly; the boundary between reality and theater disappeared. With the opera chorus, select musicians, and a children’s choir seated among the audience, it becomes clear that passive viewing was not an option—the spectators themselves played a role in the misery.

Inside the auditorium, red velvet theater curtains on the front and mid-stage reinforced the play-within-a-play concept, continuously asking: who is watching, and who is being watched? When the stage rotated 180 degrees, a dark backstage rehearsal space appeared, surrounded by black spotlights. Folding vanity tables with bright mirrors open up to create a dressing room. Here, performers switched roles using makeup and costumes, yet put on the same everyday outfits time and again.

The Stars of the Show: Passion, Drama and World-Class Vocals

To bring out the full depth of verismo, DNO brought in Italian conductor Andrea Battistoni. He infused the orchestra with the exact measure of emotion and passion needed to bring the drama to life. The dynamic, deeply emotional orchestral sound gave the singers a powerful foundation.

The star of the evening was Nedda, brilliantly brought to life by American soprano Corinne Winters. Her love and escape scene with her lover, Silvio, is extraordinary. As an audience member, one can physically feel the electric dynamic between them, charged with the tension of forbidden love and intense passion. Winters’ acting and vocals were exceptionally entertaining—it was an absolute feast to watch and listen to her. Her voice rang out bright and pure, while her stage presence was seductive, sensual, and laced with humor. This remarkable artist elevated the entire production to breathtaking heights.

A pivotal leading role belongs to Canio, masterfully portrayed by Italian tenor Riccardo Massi. With his bright, powerful tenor voice, he crafted a deeply believable clown who stalked the stage with fierce flavor and flair. He was furious, bursting with energy yet wonderfully restrained when he discovered Nedda’s attempted escape with the village youth, Silvio.

A true powerhouse actor and singer, Russian baritone Roman Burdenko shone in the dual roles of Tonio and Alfio, where he uncovered the infidelities of both Nedda and Lola/Turiddu. Using his rich, deep, and full baritone, he tried to win Nedda over, only to be firmly rejected. As Alfio, he projected a deeply threatening aura, making it unmistakably clear to Turiddu that he must leave his wife, Lola, alone.

American mezzo-soprano Raehann Bryce-Davis commanded the stage as Santuzza, delivering a performance that was convincing, deeply emotional, and intensely passionate. Her physical performance cried out for connection—restrained yet profound. While her voice occasionally strained or sliped behind her breath under the weight of such raw emotion, this stood in stark, beautiful contrast to her phenomenal, deep, and warm tone, which gave her character immense emotional weight. Bryce-Davis was supercharged and utterly compelling in her desperate plea for Turiddu to stay.

Then there was South Korean tenor SeokJong Baek as Turiddu. While this was a familiar role for him, he was a fresh face for DNO—and what an unforgettable debut! Baek’s Turiddu was intensely aware of his own magnetism, effortlessly switching his affections between Santuzza and Lola. He played the notorious charmer to absolute perfection, bolstered by a heroic vocal delivery that was powerful with a metallic edge, blending wonderfully in his dialogues with Santuzza.

Dutch mezzo-soprano Maria Warenberg stepped into the role of the ultimate femme fatale as Lola, proving both seductive and vocally agile in her sole independent aria, “Fior di giaggiolo,” at the start of the opera. It was a relatively compact role of immense importance. Director Carsen placed her atop a table, exuding sex appeal with a cake and a single candle as she tried to seduce her husband Alfio—making her larger than life in a modest part.

And what about Mamma Lucia, played by Albanian mezzo-soprano Enkelejda Shkoza? She performed with exquisite style and elegance. Representing a mature, comforting presence with a listening ear and a warm mezzo voice, she turned her role into a thoroughly captivating performance.

The Chorus Among the Crowd

Ranking number one is a truly unforgettable moment during the aria “Oh oh, presto, affrettiamoci” (Hurry, let’s make haste) in “Pagliacci,” at the start of the second Act. The chorus stormed hurriedly into the auditorium as the play-within-a-play was about to begin, urging the house to settle down—standing with their backs to the stage and frantically waving at the audience.

In that instant, the boundary between the audience and the performers completely dissolved. It was a confrontational, thrilling moment for the spectator: Who were we actually watching? And who weren’t we?

It was precisely this kind of magic that stayed with you long after the curtain fell. The stage was no longer just in front of you; suddenly, it was all around you in the hall. Before you know it, you aren’t just watching the opera—you’re looking a little bit at yourself, too.