Garsington Opera, Stokenchurch
Gerald Barry’s take on Wilde’s comedy is even wittier and zanier in Jack Furness’s hyperactive staging – complete with a grand piano on stilts, a herd of cows and a kangaroo that meets a grisly end

Anyone who has seen the opera before will recognise the tall rack of white dinner plates, stacked and primed for you-know-what. Anyone who knows Oscar Wilde’s play will recognise its punchlines, transposed by composer Gerald Barry into a kind of staccato mashup between speech and singing. But in Jack Furness’s new production of Barry’s The Importance of Being Earnest for Garsington Opera, familiarity is otherwise avoided.

Barry has already transformed Wilde’s “trivial comedy for serious people” into what he calls “an opera of delirium”. Singing offers another layer of perversity, orchestral scoring another source of wit, and stage business a further level of zaniness. Furness’s additions include a grand piano on stilts, a kangaroo that meets a nasty end, an enormous chaise longue-cum-slide (which suffers one of the play’s mysterious explosions during the dinner interval), a dirt floor and working hose to allow the protagonists to be mud-smeared and soaked through in alternation, and a herd of miniature cows. The result is a kind of hyperactive nightmare, its pace slowed by all these efforts to shock, the comedy turned sour.

As the Bayreuth festival turns 150, we look at the composer’s huge and enduring influence, and wonder what might have happened to classical music in his absence?

One hundred and fifty years ago this summer, Richard Wagner wanted to change the world. Not only the musical world, but nationhood, political thought, even the idea of what it means to be human. The inaugural Bayreuth festival opened on 13 August 1876, with the first complete cycle of Der Ring des Nibelungen staged in Wagner’s custom-built Bayreuth Festspielhaus in Bavaria. The first audience included kings, emperors, aristocracy and politicians as well as Europe’s musical and creative elites (Tchaikovsky, Grieg, Bruckner and Liszt among them). Wagner, who had been a revolutionary on the streets of Dresden in the 1840s, intended the Ring’s four operas to usher in a new world, one redeemed and made wise by this epic story of power, love, redemption, betrayal and renewal.

The titanic impact of Wagner is almost impossible to grasp today. Stage design aside (having the orchestra entirely hidden in the pit and darkening the auditorium were two of his innovations at Bayreuth) his legacies are felt across the arts from the way Wagnerism gripped German philosophers and Paris’s painters and poets in the 19th century, to the seismic changes he wreaked in cultural politics, and the toxicity of the antisemitic bearers of the Wagnerian flame after his death in 1883.

Descendants of Julia Kerr gather for recital at Einstein’s summer house near Berlin where revived opera was set

Albert Einstein throws a party at his lakeside house at which he presents to his guests his latest invention: a time machine.

So opens the opera Chronoplan, started in the late 1920s by the composer Julia Kerr, who took the score with her when she fled Nazi Germany with her family in early 1933, its planned premiere having been halted following Hitler’s takeover.

We go behind the scenes at rehearsals for William Kentridge’s new staging of Monteverdi’s 1607 opera l’Orfeo

‘L’Orfeo is an opera about opera. It’s an opera about the power of music. It’s about the power of art to construct the world,” says director and artist William Kentridge. Claudio Monteverdi’s 1607 work is, if not quite the first ever opera, the earliest opera still performed today, written when the form was in its very infancy.

Monteverdi called his work – composed for performance at the ducal court of Mantua, a “favola in musica – legend in music”. “Monteverdi was a genius,” says conductor Jonathan Cohen. “The piece is about the world’s most famous musician. He begins with a prologue where he has the allegorical character of La Musica [Music, here sung by Francesca Aspromonte, who also sings Eurydice in this production], who says ‘I am music, and I have the power to stop the birds singing, the power over nature.’ And of course Orfeo, the musician, has the power to control even the rocks, the trees, the animals and effect human emotions.”

William Kentridge (centre) during rehearsals, above, and, below, Kentridge talks with Francesca Aspromonte (La Musica/Euridice) and Roseline Wilkens (Euridice). Photograph by David Levene

The musician first visited Aldeburgh as a teenage fanboy. Now, he is at the centre of this year’s festival as its featured artist – and he’s opening with his favourite opera

Ryan Wigglesworth cuts a confident figure striding through the Royal Academy of Music in London. He’s been a professor here since 2019 – juggling his duties with his role as chief conductor of the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra, guest conducting internationally, regular recitals as a pianist, and a busy schedule as a composer. Oh, and he’s also the father of three “boisterous” young children, whose sleepless antics have left him bleary and clutching his coffee this morning.

He sits at the head of the long table in the Academy’s oak-panelled boardroom, looking perfectly at home. Was he inevitably going to end up here?

First lady and affected families in audience for highly charged performance of excerpts of Mothers of Kherson

It was hard to imagine an opera with a subject more potentially traumatic – or cathartic – for the assembled audience. The occasion, in the grand and gilded spaces of the National Opera of Ukraine, in Kyiv, was the premiere of excerpts of Mothers of Kherson, an opera about the abduction of Ukrainian children by Russian occupiers – a continuing, raw story of real-life loss and agony.

The opera was originally intended to be about the Maidan protests of 2013-14. But the American librettist George Brant, the author of the hit play Grounded, switched course in 2023 when the stories of abducted children hit the news.

Mozart’s Marriage of Figaro is in the soprano’s DNA, but she’s never thought about directing it. Creating her own production has been daunting and fascinating – and her son’s building blocks even helped

I am not one of those performers who has spent their life on a theatre stage or film set thinking, “I wish I could direct this”. However, earlier this year, I found myself with an unexpected six-week gap. A scheduled project had been delayed for technical reasons, and it was at this time that Wild Arts’ producer Max Parfitt asked how well I knew The Marriage of Figaro.

I have lived with Mozart’s opera for as long as I can remember. Susanna’s “Deh, Vieni Non Tardar” was one of the first major arias I sang, aged 12 or 13, while studying in Los Angeles. Later, I wrote my final high school paper on Figaro, the adaptation from Beaumarchais’s play to Da Ponte’s libretto. I even translated the entire score word for word, which is probably why I still know it so deeply. My Metropolitan Opera debut at 19 was in Figaro, singing Barbarina. I performed my first Susanna on the same New York stage a few years later, and I’ve since sung the role many times all over the world.

Born on a tiny, impoverished South Pacific island, Pene Pati remembers going to school without food. Now he is performing in operas at La Scala and the Met

Along roads of scarlet hibiscus and exuberant tropical foliage are the white churches of Samoa. On Sundays the choir, singing in pure harmony, rises up to the cathedral ceilings in one soaring voice of divinity.

Pene Pati, once a child in those churches, is now a commanding, magnetic presence on the world’s greatest gilded stages – a universe away from the tiny, impoverished South Pacific island of Upolu, where he was born. A tenor specialising in the lyrical repertoire and bel canto, he is booked out until 2029, from the Metropolitan Opera to La Scala to Royal Albert Hall. Last month he received the pinnacle of arts awards in France, the Chevalier de l’Ordre des Arts et Lettres – a medal, he joked in a subsequent interview, that he’d been wearing around the house, much to his wife’s disdain.

A Sydney screening of La La Land with live orchestra was rescued by a brave (and skilled) amateur pianist. What happens when classical performers, or their instruments, suddenly collapse? Plus, Tavener’s mystic pantomime finally gets to the stage

Music’s equivalent of catching a home run at a baseball game happened on Saturday in Sydney, when a 21-year-old university student jumped in to save a performance of the movie La La Land with live orchestra. The band’s keyboardist had fallen ill and couldn’t perform in the second half. Unable to find a replacement at such short notice, the conductor Justin Hurwitz (winner of two Oscars for the film’s music) asked the audience if there was a pianist in the house. Sterling Nasa answered the call, and performed in the second half, improvising a solo, and not getting a tempo change or key signature wrong.

It’s a great story – and incredible that an audience member had the requisite sight-reading and technical skills to carry it off. Could it happen in a classical concert? There have certainly been moments here too when an audience member has saved the day. The best of those stories comes from the summer of 1974, when the London Symphony Orchestra and Chorus brought Carl Orff’s Carmina Burana to the Proms, conducted by André Previn, with the baritone Thomas Allen among the soloists. You can actually hear the shocking moment from the live radio broadcast when Allen collapses into the cello section in an episode of the BBC World Service’s Witness History. He had fainted and was carried off the stage. After a brief pause, Previn chose to keep going rather than stop the performance.

Opera makers have always engaged with the latest inventions while also preserving historic crafts. I believe it’s possible to look both forwards and backwards in this fast-evolving landscape

The disquiet and distrust surrounding artificial intelligence among artists and creatives remain real and consequential, and the language used by leading arts commentators is often apocalyptic: AI will decimate the arts, it is evil, it is the devil. Like many emerging technologies, AI has been driven by the corporations at the forefront of its creation. Introduced to the public at a rapid rate and continuously evolving, machine learning has become closely entwined with fear, antipathy and foreboding. At the same time, its powers and possibilities are expanding exponentially, becoming embedded in almost every aspect of human activity.

The upcoming RBO/SHIFT festival at the Royal Opera House aims to interrogate all sides of this fast-evolving landscape to enable artists, performers, creatives and audiences to think deeply and widely about where we are now, and where we may be tomorrow. Machine learning represents a seismic shift, both in society and in the arts, and we need storytellers, artists, teachers and thinkers in this space to help determine the direction of that shift and help us navigate this unfamiliar territory.

The British-born maestro will replace Gustavo Dudamel as the orchestra’s chief conductor

The Los Angeles Philharmonic has announced that Daniel Harding is to be its next music director.

The UK-born Harding, 50, will begin his tenure in the 2027/28 season, with an initial contract for six years. Gustavo Dudamel, the orchestra’s music director since 2009, leaves the role in August 2026 – the Venezuelan conductor is heading east to become music and artistic director of the New York Philharmonic, but he will retain close connections with the Los Angeles orchestra as its artistic and cultural laureate.

With its screams, sex, bells and bloodshed Puccini’s opera was initially derided as a noisy disaster. Ahead of Glyndebourne’s first ever production, we look the ‘shabby little shocker’ that’s become one of opera’s most bankable masterpieces

Gustav Mahler hated it. Its publisher was convinced it would be a commercial disaster. Critics complained it was mostly just “noise” and predicted that it would quickly be forgotten. But more than 125 years since Tosca’s premiere in January 1900, Giacomo Puccini’s fifth opera remains one of the most bankable in the business.

We love a hard-won success story in classical music. Think of the tales of woe that still swirl around Beethoven’s life and works, with their implied happy ending in our own Beethoven centrism. Or there’s Wagner’s Tannhäuser being booed off the stage in 1861, before finding its way into the operatic pantheon. Or the riot supposedly provoked by Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring at its 1913 premiere, before everyone calmed down and the score was acclaimed a masterpiece.

Royal Opera House, London
As the central couple, SeokJong Baek and Aigul Akhmetshina are dramatically persuasive and expressive in this revival of Richard Jones’s staging that works hard to make Saint-Saëns’ often dramatically inert opera zing

“Who wants to hear Samson et Dalila?” asked George Bernard Shaw in a masterfully scathing review of Saint-Saëns’ opera in its 1893 UK premiere. “I respectfully suggest, nobody.” Samson et Dalila’s fortunes since suggest an alternative answer. But the piece remains an odd hybrid of opera and oratorio, held together by the best of its music and the talents of the two principal singers.

On the headline-act front, the Royal Opera’s first revival of Richard Jones’s 2022 production is a triumph. South Korean tenor SeokJong Baek returns as Samson, the role with which he made his acclaimed Covent Garden debut. Where dramatic chemistry with Elīna Garanča, the 2022 Dalila, was evidently in short supply, this revival boasts a role debut from the ever-astonishing young mezzo Aigul Akhmetshina. Fresh from a winning streak of Carmens, Akhmetshina exudes dramatic self-possession and physical ease, her seductive intensity the ideal foil for the tortured awkwardness of Baek’s hero.

Comedy debuts at Versailles featuring dialogue, music, costumes and scenery created with help of AI tool Le Chat

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Molière is to the French what Shakespeare is to the English: the last word in historical literature, drama, wit and satire.

Now, more than 350 years after his death, the 17th-century dramatist has been revived after scholars at the Sorbonne University in Paris used artificial intelligence to help write an experimental play in his style.

Casting director urges Keir Starmer to intervene in case of Paata Burchuladze, 71, jailed for seven years after singing at anti-regime demonstrations

The Royal Opera House in London has urged Keir Starmer to intervene in the case of Paata Burchuladze, a world-renowned bass singer who has been imprisoned in Georgia since October on a charge of leading a coup against the country’s authoritarian leader.

The 71-year-old has performed at the Royal Opera House and the Metropolitan Opera House in New York and collaborated with the likes of Luciano Pavarotti, Plácido Domingo and José Carreras. He was arrested after joining a protest outside the presidential palace in the Georgian capital, Tbilisi. Last week he was given a seven-year jail sentence which Burchuladze suggested to the court was equivalent to a life sentence given his age.

After years of upheaval, English National Opera is staging its first new opera in its northern base: the Pulitzer-winning Angel’s Bone, about two angels brutally exploited by human traffickers. We talk to its creators

I’m peering into a vast hangar teeming with tech crew wearing hi-vis and hard hats. Enormous lighting rigs hang low to the ground. Somewhere out of sight is the biggest lift in Europe, allowing articulated lorries to drive straight in. This is the Warehouse in Manchester’s Aviva Studios. Since opening in 2023, this arts venue run by Factory International has presented gigs by major pop acts, the largest ever show by cult Japanese artist Yayoi Kusama and a “sprawling four-hour odyssey through often naked rituals” by performance artist Marina Abramović. Now, for the first time, it’s hosting opera.

More precisely, it’s about to host English National Opera’s first production created in and for Manchester: the UK premiere of Angel’s Bone by Chinese-American composer Du Yun and Canadian librettist Royce Vavrek, staged by acclaimed Australian director Kip Williams. The opera won the 2017 Pulitzer prize, commended as a “harrowing allegory for human trafficking in the modern world” following its 2016 world premiere in the US.

Six dancers who made bold career pivots reflect on ballet’s transferable skills, what they miss about the stage – and what they were glad to leave behind

Lana Jones, midwife, former principal dancer at the Australian Ballet

Opera needs big money: opera chiefs need big donors. New York’s Metropolitan Opera has just lost a $200m investment, but should it have accepted it in the first place?

Opera’s stories of power aren’t only played out on stage. The mechanics of producing opera involve vast amounts of people, from set builders to wig-makers to chorus and orchestra, and even vaster amounts of money. An opera company needs huge reservoirs of cash: whether from governments, companies donating for tax benefits, or private individuals whose motivations may be entirely driven by sheer love of the form, or they might not. The Royal Opera House named a hall after the American investment banker Alberto Vilar who promised the company £10m, before being convicted and imprisoned for fraud in 2010, while the Sackler family’s millions sponsored swathes of culture across the US and UK – but the source of this wealth gave the world an opioid epidemic.

So pity the poor opera house manager, trying to deal with an essentially insoluble situation: choose your donors, choose your poison. And pity especially Peter Gelb, who has been running the Metropolitan Opera in New York, the world’s biggest opera house, for the past two decades. Gelb faces in extremis the same hard economic truth that all opera houses, classical music institutions and performing groups face. Unlike so many parts of the economy, the services they provide have not become – and cannot become – more efficient. It’s what is known as Baumol’s cost disease, a term coined by the economist William J Baumol in the 1960s. One of the examples he used to illustrate the “disease” was a string quartet. It took four players in 1800 – and still, today, takes four musicians. How stupidly inefficient! It’s the same story, only exponentially less efficient and more expensive, for putting on an opera. Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde, one of the Met’s recent blockbuster productions, still needs an army of stage managers as well as orchestral musicians, it still requires gigantic sets and a stellar cast just as it did in 1865, all to fill the Met’s 4,000-seat auditorium.

Teatro La Fenice says Beatrice Venezi let go for making ‘repeated offensive’ statements

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Teatro La Fenice, the prestigious Venice opera house, has fired its incoming music director after she insinuated its hiring practices were nepotistic, with jobs “practically passed down from father to son”.

After months of controversy over the appointment of Beatrice Venezi, La Fenice Foundation said on Sunday it had decided to “cancel all future collaborations” with the 36-year-old conductor and pianist.

The former ballet dancer said Chalamet’s comments were ‘reckless’ in an interview with the New York Times in which she also discussed her violent childhood

Actor and former ballet dancer Charlize Theron has joined the chorus of disapproval aimed at Timothée Chalamet over his remarks that appeared to disrespect performers of ballet and opera.

In an interview with the New York Times, Theron said: “Oh, boy, I hope I run into him one day,” adding: “That was a very reckless comment on two art forms that we need to lift up constantly because, yes, they do have a hard time. But in 10 years, AI is going to be able to do Timothée’s job, but it will not be able to replace a person on a stage dancing live.”