*I Puritani,* Jan 15, 2026

I saw a new production of Bellini's I Puritani at the Met on Jan 15, 2026.

I'd never seen this opera but knew it by reputation. I'd heard the soprano, Lisette Oropesa, a couple of times at the Met and in a dazzling performance as Maria Stuarda in Salzburg last summer. I'd heard the tenor, Lawrence Brownlee, a couple of times at the Met and in a concert with the Met Orchestra Chamber Ensemble just a few days before.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Best: the music was fantastic, the singing was excellent. Worst: the staging was a disaster. I don't use that word very often and this was the perfect opportunity, really one of the most idiotic and misguided things I've seen in my life. And I've seen some real stinkers!

I'll start with the good news. Oropesa was amazing, she's the real deal. Beautiful creamy tone, an innate sense of line (essential in Bellini), incisive use of the text, a committed performance, she's got the whole package. She's a wonder and I look forward to many more years of hearing her at the Met (she's 42 so she's probably right at the peak of her powers, hopefully she can extend that peak for a while).

Brownlee was also amazing, exciting, invariably secure in his high voice, and a deep sense of the style. This is his third bel canto role at the Met this season - - he was scheduled to do Donizetti's La Fille du Régiment this fall and stepped into their new production of La Sonnambula at the last minute when the scheduled tenor had to withdraw for a few performances. I feel bad harping on the topic of age but he's 53, has been singing this demanding music all over the world for over 20 years (he made his Met debut in 2007), and is dazzling in his ability.

The surprise of the night was baritone Artur Ruciński. I heard him in a supporting role in Manon back in 2019. This is what I said in my review: "He has a strong, handsome voice, I’d like to hear him in a bigger part." Your wish has been granted! He got the biggest ovation of the night for his first act aria. He had a bit of an unfair advantage because the aria is set up in such a perfect way in the score and the director didn't get in the way. Every other aria either had a not quite satisfying finish in the score or a dramatic misfire at the end on the part of the director. Ruciński's aria had a Simone Biles 10-point perfect landing and he made the most of it. I think we could all tell he was ramping up for a big high G at the end - - he landed on it, it sounded warm and comfortable, and he held that note FOREVER. F O R E V E R, all through the orchestral postlude. The ovation was something else.

Christian Van Horn was the fourth member of the Puritani Quartet - - that's how these four leading roles are known in the business. Someone said, ages ago, "It's easy to do Puritani, you just need the four greatest singers in the world." The Met had their own version of that in their previous production in the 70s: Joan Sutherland, Luciano Pavarotti, Sherrill Milnes, and James Morris. Not too shabby! Van Horn was very good but in comparison with the others, the weak link in the quartet. His second act aria was well sung but lacking in variety and specificity, mezzo forte from start to finish, somewhat lackluster. It doesn't take much work or imagination to make something special and memorable - - he's got the raw materials, he needs to go the extra mile.

Conductor Marco Armiliato has conducted over 500 performances at the Met and clearly knows what he's doing. The performance had energy and flexibility. The overture was engaging, a highlight of the evening. Give me a quartet of French horns every time, that always does the trick.

OK now for the bad news! This was the Met debut of director Charles Edwards. The New York Times had an article in December anticipating the premiere saying that the Met made the notable choice to do a traditional production set in the 1640s. The first act was promising, the director laid out the story clearly, there was very little messing around.

The clarity in the first act gave us a false sense of security because the second act was off the rails. I'd rather have an inventive, abstract production on a jungle gym than the slapdash collection of garbage we saw onstage. Sometimes I feel like opera directors should be required to do a variation of the Hippocratic oath: first do no harm. That would be a great starting point.

This seemed to be what I'll call the Spaghetti Method: throw it against the wall and see if it sticks. Well honey, that's what rehearsals are for, this is why you have other people on your production team. Here's an imagined conversation between the director and the dramaturg, the person who serves as an outside eye for the director during pre production and rehearsals:

DIRECTOR: I'm thinking of putting bullet holes in the set in the second act to give a sense of looming violence and doom.

[pause]

DRAMATURG: OK, what else have you got.

DIRECTOR: The soprano is going to be a painter. Her paintings will be an expression of her madness and they'll be piled up against the pyre at the end of the show, when the tenor is gonna be set on fire.

[long pause]

DRAMATURG: I'm not sure these ideas are going to work, let's spitball some other options and see what we can come up with.

I need to be honest and say that there are dramatic issues built into the show, some head-scratching moments that must have puzzled the audience in 1835 (and every audience since then). But there has to be a better solution. I know this sounds dreadfully old school but sometimes the best choice is having the singers stand onstage, face forward, and sing the music. This is called Park and Bark and sometimes it's just what you want. Not a lot of muddled mishegas.

The high point of the idiocy was the rat-tat-tat militaristic duet between the baritone and the bass near the end of the show. The baritone smeared his face with white paint, which was puzzling. The bass took his shirt off, which perked up my interest because Christian Van Horn is a major hunk - - but then he smeared his chest with white paint and the baritone painted a cross over it with red paint. Maybe this worked for other guys but it was not my scene.

This was the Met's second new production of a Bellini opera this season. I wasn't wild for Rolando Villazón's production of La Sonnambula but while it didn't really deliver the way I wanted it to it didn't ever get in the way. The staging allowed the singers to do their job, it let the music come across without interference. There may have been moments of exasperation in Sonnambula but nothing approaching the anger and growling I experienced with Puritani.