(Photo: © Geoffroy Schied)

In Francesco Micheli’s new staging of Mascagni and Leoncavallo’s iconic opera, Munich transformed for a night into Palermo. With a unified production for both “Cavalleria Rusticana” and “Pagliacci” telling the story of a migrant’s journey from Sicily, the director turned a traditional duo into a memorable night, though his decision to set it in the 1960s was questionable.

Outstanding Conducting

The music itself was worth the journey. Even if you’re used to the perfect sound of a Deutsche Grammophon 1966 recording by Karajan or Decca version with Pavarotti and Gavazzeni, this live performance stood out—with real emotion throughout both operas. Daniele Rustioni led the Bayerisches Staatsorchester with empathy and intensity, especially in “Cavalleria Rusticana.” His interpretation made the music a character on its own. Never overbearing, the orchestra allowed voices to shine while anchoring the drama. Particularly moving was, of course, the famous Adagio in “Cavalleria Rusticana,” rendered as a suspended moment of private grief—an elegy set in the future for Turiddu’s mother where Santuzza and her daughter cry at her deathbed.

In “Pagliacci,” Rustioni created a very different mood compared to “Cavalleria Rusticana.” The music was more controlled and tense. This matched the feeling of the characters, who seemed more distant and colder. The change in style between the two operas felt natural. As expected from a major German opera stage, where music excels, the level of musical quality and precision was nothing less than excellent: the Italian verismo in all its splendour.

Illuminating Voices

Yulia Matochkina, in her first performance in Munich, gave a strong portrayal of Santuzza. Wearing a robe that suggested pregnancy, she seemed emotionally broken like a modern-day Madonna left alone and betrayed. Her warm, steady voice expressed sadness without ever sounding overly dramatic. Her duo with Turiddu in front of the church, “Tu qui, Santuzza? – Fior di giaggiolo,” was simply remarkable and heartbreaking and her voice really helped build empathy for her tragic fate.

Ivan Gyngazov, also making his debut in Munich, played Turiddu with a mix of energy and sadness. His passionate voice expressed love, guilt, but also a sense of despair, especially while saying farewell to his mother in “Mamma, quell vino è generoso.” Together, Matochkina and Gyngazov had great chemistry— two people trapped in their own pain.

In “Pagliacci,” Ailyn Pérez’s Nedda brought a lighter touch. Her singing was graceful but full of emotion—she seemed to float above the drama until fate pulled her back in.

Jonas Kaufmann, returning to his hometown stage, was a broken Canio but vocally in full control. His “Vesti la giubba” felt real and intense, with clear diction.

Wolfgang Koch, performing both Alfio and Tonio, gave the two roles strong personality. His Alfio was calm and cold, while his Tonio was more aggressive and theatrical. He brought tension without needing to shout and showed how male pride can turn dangerous.

The chorus, directed by Christoph Heil, was excellent. In “Cavalleria Rusticana,” dressed in white, they represented tradition, belief, and quiet judgment. They shone in “Gli aranci olezzano sui verdi margini.” In “Pagliacci,” they became more like silent witnesses, involved in the tragedy but shone in “Don, Din, Don, suona vespero.” The chorus performances during the two operas were very enjoyable.

Production Details

One could sincerely question the director’s choice to set the Opera in the 1960s as it does not really speak to a younger audience. A new staging is always an opportunity to connect themes to today’s world, and opera, at its best, should try to speak to the present—not just the past. This staging felt more like a nostalgic revival than a bold reinterpretation. Both operas do offer opportunities to connect on timeless topics like jealousy, betrayal and social exclusion. Yet the staging missed the opportunity to connect with today’s issues. As a first-time viewer, I certainly may have missed many nuances, but the result still felt distant and hard to connect with.

Micheli’s direction was, however, consistent in his 1960s time frame. Daniela Cernigliaro’s costumes situated us in a recognizably postwar world and was particularly consistent in “Cavalleria Rusticana” with an all-white chorus for Easter. In “Cavalleria Rusticana,” Santuzza was notably the only one dressed in black. This clear contrast made her stand out and gave her costume a powerful double mourning. It showed her mourning for the love she had already lost, but also hinted at Turiddu’s death that is still to come—the father of her unborn child. A mourning for the present and a mourning for the future. In this version, Santuzza is pregnant, which gives her role an even more emotional weight.

In “Pagliacci,” the community becomes colder, fractured. The set deconstructs itself: no longer a village, but a void where performance becomes the only language left. When Canio’s mask finally breaks, it is not just tragedy—it is the collapse of any remaining social structure.

Set designer Edoardo Sanchi and lighting designer Alessandro Carletti supported a vision where physical space and time were blurred. The 14 hanging lamps played a key role: their colors changed throughout the performance to reflect the emotional tone of each scene. During the church mass in “Cavalleria Rusticana,” they glowed white—pure and calm. When the betrayal was revealed, they turned yellow, a more traditional color for dishonesty or tension. In medieval Europe, traitors were sometimes forced to wear yellow as a mark of shame and Judas was often represented wearing a yellow robe. And during the duel, they turned red, adding intensity and signaling danger. These changes weren’t just decorative—they helped guide the audience through the emotional journey of the opera. The lighting became almost like a silent narrator, shaping the atmosphere scene by scene.

Thanks to exceptional conducting and voices, the Bayerische Staatsoper offered a memorable evening. This Bayerische Staatsoper representation was not “Cavalleria Rusticana” first and “Pagliacci” second. It was a single narrative with unity of space, time and action. In this Sicilian Munich, the audience was conquered — at the end, people weren’t just clapping with their hands but also stomping their feet in approval.