‘Turandot’, Against All Odds: Malta’s Opera Triumph

In the heart of Malta, under the starry Mediterranean sky, the ancient stone walls of the Teatru Manoel echoed with a tale of love and power. It was the first night of Turandot, Puccini’s grand opera, and the island’s cultural scene was abuzz. But this was no ordinary performance. It was a triumph against all odds.

An Opera in a Pandemic

Malta, like the rest of the world, had been grappling with the COVID-19 pandemic. The arts, one of the first sectors to shut down, had been struggling to find its feet. Yet, here we were, in October 2021, with the Malta Philharmonic Orchestra (MPO) and a cast of international opera stars, ready to defy the odds.

The Teatru Manoel, Malta’s national theatre, had been closed for over a year. Its reopening with Turandot was a beacon of hope, a symbol of resilience. The opera house, tucked away in the narrow streets of Valletta, was a sight to behold, its exterior lit up, its interior buzzing with life.

Malta’s Opera Scene: A Brief History

Malta’s love affair with opera is centuries old. The first opera house, the Teatru Abbatiali, was built in 1732. Since then, opera has been a staple of Maltese culture. The Teatru Manoel, built in 1731, is one of Europe’s oldest working theatres. It’s seen its fair share of triumphs and challenges, but nothing quite like this.

Malta’s opera scene has weathered political storms, economic downturns, and now, a global pandemic. Yet, it persists, a testament to the island’s cultural tenacity. The MPO, founded in 1968, has been at the heart of this. It’s grown from a small ensemble to a world-class orchestra, performing in some of the world’s most prestigious venues.

‘Turandot’: A Challenge Accepted

Puccini’s Turandot is a challenging opera. It’s grand, it’s demanding, and it requires a cast of international stars. The MPO, led by its chief conductor, Michael Laus, accepted the challenge. They brought in soloists from around the world, including Malta’s own Joseph Calleja, who returned to his homeland to sing the role of Calaf.

The production was a spectacle. The stage was filled with colourful costumes, elaborate sets, and dramatic lighting. The music was powerful, the singing exquisite. The audience, masked and socially distanced, was transported to ancient China, caught up in the story of Princess Turandot and her suitors.

The standing ovation at the end of the performance was a testament to the triumph of human spirit. It was a victory not just for the opera, but for Malta’s cultural scene, for its resilience, and its refusal to be silenced.

As the audience filed out into the cool Valletta night, there was a sense of pride, of accomplishment. We had done it. We had brought opera back to Malta, against all odds.