La Vestale at the Staatsoper Berlin: Music Against Direction

On 26 September, the Staatsoper Unter den Linden presented the premiere of Gaspare Spontini’s La Vestale. Despite the legendary performances featuring Maria Callas and Franco Corelli at La Scala in 1954–1955, as well as Rosa Ponselle’s historic recordings, whose portrayal of Julia became a true example of vocal artistry, this opera remains largely unknown to the wider public and appears only rarely in the repertoire of today’s opera houses. Its return to the Berlin stage was therefore a genuine event. Sonya Yoncheva made her role debut as Julia.

Norma and La Vestale: Two Operas, One Concept?

It is remarkable how much Lydia Steier’s production of La Vestale reminded me of Vasily Barkhatov’s Norma, which we saw earlier, once again with Sonya Yoncheva in the leading role. And the similarities go beyond the fact that both operas tell the story of a woman bound by a religious vow, forced to choose between love and duty. The resemblance lies above all in the very concept of the staging.

Lydia Steier transplants the action into an authoritarian state. We are confronted with a society reminiscent of either the Soviet Union or Nazi Germany: total control, violence, the suppression of individuality, fear, and the brutal exercise of power over the human body.

All of this can, of course, be interpreted as an attempt to explore the mechanisms of dictatorship and religious fanaticism. But one cannot help asking: why does Spontini’s work need such a dark and naturalistic theatrical framework? After all, at the heart of La Vestale lies the tragedy of a woman who loves and wants to live, but is forced to submit to the laws of society. This story already possesses enormous emotional power in its own right.

Instead, we see women being tortured, beaten, humiliated, and locked in cages. The Vestals walk around with shaved heads. Men are crucified like Christ. Bloody, physically disturbing scenes follow one after another.

To be honest, watching all of this was extremely difficult.

I have absolutely nothing against contemporary interpretations of opera. In this case, however, I felt that the director’s concept quite literally overshadowed the work itself. Violence becomes such an intrusive element of the production that, little by little, both the musical dramaturgy and the personal tragedy of the leading character are lost behind it.

An Unexpected Happy Ending

The most astonishing aspect is the way the opera ends.

In the original story, Julia is to be punished for breaking her vow: she is condemned to be buried alive. But at the decisive moment, a miracle occurs. The fire on the altar of Vesta, which had gone out, suddenly burns again, and this is interpreted as a sign from the goddess. Julia is forgiven and allowed to unite with Licinius.

For me, this transition was utterly inexplicable.

Throughout the evening, we are shown an almost entirely bleak world in which violence has become the norm and human life is worth nothing. And then, suddenly, a happy ending appears, seemingly out of nowhere.

But where is the inner transformation? Where is the dramatic preparation for this conclusion? Where is the very sense of hope that should have been woven into the preceding scenes?

Instead of catharsis, I was left feeling bewildered.

What is more, there were audible chuckles and giggles in the audience, even during the most tense moments. Some of the staging choices looked so absurd that, instead of provoking the intended emotional response, they elicited involuntary laughter. The production team’s appearance for the curtain calls was accompanied by entirely predictable boos.

The Vocal Performances: Sonya Yoncheva and David Butt Philip

As for the musical side of the evening, the acoustics at the Staatsoper Unter den Linden were, as always, magnificent. The sound filled the auditorium, and all the performers could be heard beautifully.

The role of Licinius was performed by David Butt Philip. I felt that he delivered his part with considerable consistency and a good vocal line. At times, however, his performance sounded overly forceful and shouty, particularly in the emotionally charged passages.

I would also like to single out Siyabonga Maqungo in the role of Cinna, Licinius’s friend. His performance struck me as more even and vocally controlled, with a fine vocal line and expressive delivery.

Sonya Yoncheva is a singer who almost always makes a strong first impression on me. At the beginning of the performance, I once again noticed the beauty of her middle register, the expressiveness of her timbre, and her ability to create a genuinely beautiful vocal line.

However, as the evening progressed, I experienced a familiar feeling: the high notes became increasingly tense, at times sharp and uneven. In certain moments, her voice sounded overly shrill to my ears.

That said, I would particularly like to highlight the aria Ô Nymphes, ô divinités, one of the most beautiful pages of Julia’s role. Yoncheva’s rendition was quite convincing.

I also enjoyed Julia’s major scene in Act II, Toi que j’implore, in which the singer managed to convey the drama of the situation. There was emotional intensity and some fine work with the musical phrasing.

Overall, Yoncheva’s performance left me with mixed feelings. Individual moments were genuinely beautiful, but throughout the opera I missed the vocal consistency I would have liked to hear in this role.

The choral scenes, on the other hand, were a true highlight of the evening.

In Spontini’s music, the chorus plays an enormous role: it does not merely accompany the action but becomes an essential part of the dramaturgy, creating scale, tension, and a sense of collective power. The contrast between the powerful choral passages and Julia’s lyrical scenes was particularly fascinating.

The choral scenes, on the other hand, were a true highlight of the evening.

In Spontini’s music, the chorus plays an enormous role: it does not merely accompany the action but becomes an essential part of the dramaturgy, creating scale, tension, and a sense of collective power. The contrast between the powerful choral passages and Julia’s lyrical scenes was particularly fascinating.

Why Do We Stage Opera Today?

Let us return to the main question that has stayed with me since the premiere.

Who decides which productions should appear on the stages of the world’s leading opera houses? What are a director’s objectives when presenting an audience with a concept like this? To shock? To provoke thought? To expose the cruelty of the world? Or simply to ensure that the audience does not remain indifferent? But is shock, in and of itself, an artistic value?

I do not think I will ever want to see this production again, and I believe this raises an important question for the theatre: what should remain with the audience after a performance? The desire to return to the work, to hear the music again, to experience the characters’ story once more — or merely an unpleasant memory of scenes of violence?

I will always maintain that true art and genuine beauty will find their way into people’s hearts. That is precisely why it makes me so sad when a director’s concept does not help reveal a work but seems to work against it.

Spontini’s La Vestale is a rare opera that deserves to return to the major stages. And I sincerely hope that, after productions like this, audiences leave the theatre not wanting to forget what they have seen, but wanting to hear this music again and reconnect with this story because, ultimately, that is exactly why we go to the opera in the first place.

Text: Julia Pneva

Photo: Stephan Rabold, Staatsoper Berlin