(Photo: Monika Ritterhaus / Courtesy of Staatsoper Hamburg)

Dmitri Tcherniakov‘s new production of “Ariadne auf Naxos” at Staatsoper Hamburg rounds out his visual and thematic arc from “Elektra” and “Salome,” ending the Strauss trilogy. Once again, Tcherniakov sets the drama within the same apartment building. The apartment now is simply refinished in a lavish Prussian blue with golden accents, and bookshelves filled with vases of ancient Greek pottery, bestowing upon the room the atmosphere of aristocratic sophistication. However, the two large glass doors, being critical stage elements in previous productions, were underutilized for this one. They might have contrasted more sharply between the luxury of the apartment and the outside world and have provided a lost moment for greater dramatic tension.

Being a director renowned for reinterpretations, Tcherniakov makes radical storytelling departures in this production. The role of Theseus, absent from the original, is given to the role of the Hausmeister. The adaptation neatly integrates the prologue and the opera Ariadne in second part: in a dramatic irony, Theseus has a heart attack during the initial celebration and passes away just as the drama within the drama is about to begin. This inventive bridge between the comedy and opera seria increases the dramatic tension and alters the opera’s taste as a more conservative Straussian bourgeois drama of manners into a raised emotional conflict of greater intensity, matching “Elektra” and “Salome” as an appropriate trilogy.

As in the previous productions, besides the very short interval showing Ariadne lamenting on the death of Theseus, the scenery is immobile during the opera, with only two subtle lighting transitions bringing a warmer and celebratory atmosphere. In addition, the employment of projected surtitles at the conclusion is a powerful reminder of the opera’s time of composition—finished just prior to World War I—of the impending disaster beyond this world of opulence. In our own troubled times, this thematic resonance is even more compelling. At the conclusion of the opera, when the stage turns to show the whole apartment, hauntingly recalls the notion of the outside world closing in, with all the performers standing still in front of the windows as kind of farewell.

Kent Nagano‘s musical leadership is very assured, offering an interpretation that is at once exact and lyrical. Some passages were given a near-chamber music delicacy so that the singers, who must sustain typical Straussian long, unbroken vocal lines, were able to be fully supported. Worth being mentioned is the pianist of Ariadne’s second half, positioned on stage and firmly integrated into the action of the stage, reminding one of Baroque opera continuo group and providing a genuine sense of togetherness. Strauss’s very pictorial orchestration was vividly brought to life, and the rapturous ovation at the end lent weight to the success of the performance.

The principal singers rose to the vocal challenges of Strauss’s characters. Soprano Nadezhda Pavlova, playing Zerbinetta, sent her voice flying effortlessly across the rich & sometimes dense orchestral textures, channeling the complexity of the character—both the comedic vigor of the prologue and the genuine emotional depth of her later scenes. Her performance on stage was also impressive, with a particularly memorable confrontation with the on-stage pianist that amazed the audience.

As opposed to the young & vibrant Zerbinetta, soprano Anja Kampe portrayed title character Ariadne with profound depth. She drove the psychological development of the character—from internal banishment to final acceptance of Bacchus—through compelling psychological intensity. Her warm, sorrowful but divine voice made Ariadne’s pain felt, taking the audience along the path of transformation from despair to redemption. Kampe performed those heavy arias with immaculate poise, her voice shining and assertive. She rode Strauss’s grand lines with effortless breath control, uniting ethereal serenity with profound dramatic weight. Her ascent to the climactic part was unassailable—pure but powerful—imbued with a sense of transcendence and inescapability.

Tenor Jamez McCorkle, as Bacchus, is heard only in the opera’s latter half, but his presence was powerful nonetheless. His warm, resonant tenor gave Bacchus the gravity and majesty he needed, and his entrance felt climactic, not accidental. The breathtaking ascent to “Bin ich ein Gott?” was thundering, unyielding, but informed by wonder, capturing the character’s transformation with searing voltage.

Tcherniakov’s cost-effective stage design achieved remarkable success, skillfully utilizing the relatively small and somewhat outdated stage of the Staatsoper Hamburg. However, Hamburg’s mayor just officially announced a few days before the proposals to construct a whole new opera house, in the harbor area of the city, potentially another architectural wonder like Elbphilharmonie adorning the already stunning Elbe skyline. Against this backdrop, the performance took on an added level of significance: it brought to a close Tcherniakov’s Strauss trilogy and Nagano’s Hamburg tenure at the end of this season, closing one chapter and heralding the next.