Review of ‘Ariadne auf Naxos’ (2026, BBC Proms): “On point delivery almost makes up for undistinguished libretto”

I am conflicted. That might be a good sign when discussing art, depending on how you see it. But the thing is, I’m not really sure how I feel about this piece. I’m aware some opera fanatics consider it one of Strauss’s best works. To some, it’s even the magnum opus of his operatic oeuvre. I can see why — to a degree. But if I were browsing through a selection of lyrical treats, Ariadne auf Naxos would unlikely be the winning option.

Perhaps it’s the lack of dramatic cohesion. Or the fact that I find Act One far more gripping than its pedestrian continuation. It has nothing to do with the density of the material. For those unacquainted, the entire first act depicts the tumultuous minutes before the premiere of a new opera commissioned by the richest man in Vienna, featured as part of a private celebration.

Chaos reigns when the cast is informed that the opera and a subsequent light comedy must be presented simultaneously. However, they can’t run a minute overtime, as a fireworks display is scheduled to set off right after. The following turmoil is as funny as it is moving. On the one hand, we are wildly bemused by the droll showbiz archetypes: the self-absorbed diva, the neurotic director, and the deeply insecure composer fearing the worst possible fate for his legacy — they all act accordingly, and it’s delightfully entertaining.

But at the same time, some of these personages can compel us just as much. The young composer’s quest for perfection and the creation of pure art becomes a mystical, philosophical journey — profound and soul-stirring,  leading up to an intellectually powerful cliffhanger. Wistfully, that’s the only glimpse we catch of his pilgrimage, as the character no longer returns, banished into the shadows (both literally and figuratively) in favour of a metatheatrical performance where Greek tragedy and comedia dell’arte alternate — sometimes introspective, sometimes comical, but never quite as fulfilling or engaging.

If reviewing the production were the only purpose of this article, there would be hardly any flaws to point out. Glyndebourne has once again honoured its symbol of excellence. As such, every aspect of it is utterly superb, from its narrative-driven direction to its glitzy costume design blending historically accurate clothing with modernised elements that reference the piece’s intended theatrical styles while adding a few nods to resembling art forms such as vaudeville.

Similarly, most performances shine by demonstrating utmost technical ability alongside an impassioned approach and a most refreshing degree of verismo. In that regard, Samantha Hankey earns a first mention as the Composer, whose faultless vocal prowess is matched by her exceptional acting skills, blending the character’s despondency with subtle, dry humour.

The highest praise, however, goes to Alina Wunderlin as Zerbinetta, portraying the role with high-octane showmanship while flaunting her immaculate coloratura. Rachel Willis-Sørensen is competent in the title part. Yet, her singing comes off flat in some sections — struggling to project the necessary sentiment and consequently feeling slightly underwhelming on both a musical and textual level.

Conductor Robin Ticciati makes the music soar with his impeccable execution. Not a single bar is devoid of colour and fluid, intricate articulation. As a result, the score brims with brightness and spiritedness. And overall, his interpretation is an endless explosion of flaming bravura.

Every so often, we stumble upon these theatrical mixed blessings, where a near-perfect delivery brings out the best from an adequate work. Its artistic ambivalence signifies a critical conundrum. There’s so much to celebrate in its production, but as much as the piece is infused with Strauss’s signature lushness, there’s not much in it that would entice me to return. I’m aware some fans will think my words blasphemous. They’re entitled to their opinion. I’m not trying to pass for Zarathustra.

The 2026 BBC Proms play at London’s Royal Albert Hall until 12 September. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara