Reflecting on your original staging of La traviata in 2018, what were some of the key themes you aimed to highlight in your interpretation?
I’ve worked on La traviata a lot, and every time I look forward to discovering something else, a layer that seems new to me. It’s such an extraordinary piece and Violetta is such an extraordinary character. My relationship with the character is long and has evolved. I think originally, the heart of it was the fact that she has this extremely strong morality and decency as a person, whereas the world thinks she’s immoral; the world thinks she’s a sinner. There is a lot of contrast to her. She brings an extraordinary internal light, kindness, and understanding to a world that thinks (or wants her to be) the opposite. That has always been a fascinating key theme, and still is.
You were previously acclaimed for the emotional depth you brought to the staging of the character of Violetta back in 2018. What opportunities do you see in directing a new Violetta, played by Alison Langer, in this revival?
I love Ali, I have to say. It’s not our first collaboration. We first worked together 10 years ago, and even back then I really did think that she was totally brilliant. This production has the stamp of Lauren in it (the original Violetta in 2018), because we created this role together and it was her first Violetta. We had such a special collaboration with very special results. I felt very lucky.
Ali performed the role of Violetta as an Opera Holland Park Young Artist. She played Violetta, and we actually had one rehearsal together because she had to go on covering Lauren. I still remember it. Directing is a very personal thing – it has to do with what you see in a performer. Despite the fact that Ali and I had such a short time, she was so responsive and quick to grasp things that were very deep, that she then embodied very quickly. It’s such a gift, and I remember admiring that in her. I’m very much looking forward to piecing all this together again. It will be interesting to see how it’s changed after this amount of time. Ali has done Violetta quite a lot since then, so it’s doubly interesting.
You’ve mentioned before that your primary focus is on shaping a character based on the specific performer you’re working with. Can you elaborate on how you like to work with performers, and the role that collaboration plays in your directing process?
Opera-making in its essence is very collaborative. Yes, I am leading the rehearsals, but an idea does not exist unless others embody it; unless they make it theirs, fully believe in it, and give their best to it. I believe that anything I have to offer does not exist unless people take it and make it their own, and in that sense collaboration is primordial: you cannot do without it. I can’t imagine how it is to try and persuade someone of an idea who does not want it and insist on them doing what you’re asking them to do, rather than finding another way for them to support what you want.
The notion of a director is a very 20th-century thing. Before, it was all about doing very basic geography: organising entrances and exits, and just presenting the music. It’s quite a recent thing that we have a director who comes with an idea about the world that they want to create, and how these characters can come alive. What it means to be a director nowadays has evolved, for sure. Opera is such a synergy of the moment. It’s the work of all the different parties: the conductor, orchestra, the individual singers – it is a living organism of the time.
You first studied theatre in Athens, before specialising in directing in Paris. Could you share what it was like transitioning between these cities and how those experiences shaped your work when you eventually moved into the London theatre scene?
I come from a musical family and I have a musical background – I was a violinist when I left Athens. I moved to Paris to study musicology, and then I found a course in opera directing. Opera was very much a part of me growing up, a second skin to me. I was familiar and at ease with the form from an early age, and I think that played quite the part in my relationship with the art form. In Paris as well, I studied physical theatre at the Lecoq school, and then I did quite a lot of internships at the opera. I stayed there for six or seven years and then went back to Athens and started working there. My first directorial steps were small projects, mainly street opera in Athens, and doing work as an assistant.
When I came to the UK, I applied for the Young Artists Programme at the Royal Opera House and I got the job. I had worked previously in France, Italy and Greece, but before starting the programme I did a whole year of getting to grips with UK theatre-making, because it’s quite different on the continent. In the UK, there is a very strong stage management and technical theatre tradition, which doesn’t exist on the continent, which is fabulous. It’s quite a different system and it makes things much easier. Things are much more efficient.
Opera is a very international art form. I mean, the people in our rehearsal rooms are coming from everywhere. It’s so enriching. We all come together under one piece, mostly in a language that’s not our mother tongue. I think it’s very special, and everyone has to offer something which is extremely personal and unique.
Your productions are often acclaimed for their striking visual aesthetics. How did you work with the designer, Cordelia Chisholm, when approaching this production?
The process always starts with ideas that we share about the piece. What is the story about? What sort of world do we want to create? What is the atmosphere? What is important to maintain?
Cordelia Chisholm is a long-standing colleague, with whom I have developed a common language. In a way, we have developed an aesthetic together. For La traviata, we were very drawn to this Belle Epoque period, the turn of the century, Paris in 1919. Paris was at its socioeconomic and artistic prime: everything that was happening in the world was happening in Paris. We wanted to highlight this male-dominated world (we had quite a lot of female chorus members also playing male parts, so that the audience feels that this is a man’s world) and Cordelia had this genius idea of creating a hexagonal shaped-set that is almost like a cage, that can unfold and envelop. At this stage, we touched base with James (CEO and Director of Opera at Opera Holland Park), and he loved it from the get-go. I remember the process being a very joyous creation from everyone.
Can you discuss your philosophy on storytelling and how it informs your directorial style?
In a way, storytelling is the essence of life. There is a beginning, an adventurous journey, and an end. Storytelling in opera is complicated: you engage not just intellectually but emotionally, and sometimes you don’t engage at all because as a form it might feel like too much to take in at once. It’s an extraordinary way of telling a story.
Directorially, I have a sense that a clear story needs to be told, but I also like to take care with the details. Key motifs become like guides to the story: the flowers, for instance, with Violetta. The flowers were a code in society back then. If you wear a white camelia, you are available, and if you wear a red one, you’re not. In the way Verdi interprets this, they become a love promise and a premonition of the end. If you notice them, they have a journey of their own and become symbols. I want to believe my storytelling exists on various levels simultaneously, and so the work that I do is a detailed series of layers running at the same time, and the audience may take what they like from it.
How do you see the role of opera evolving in contemporary society?
I can only describe my experience, and at this stage in my career…it’s a very demanding profession, but it’s wonderful – a welcome challenge.
The theatrical experience of going to see an opera…I only hope that it survives and that the audience, and society, find it non-negotiable in the years to come. I hope that it continues to hold power; that people will continue to come together in a communion to have an emotional experience. We are going into a very technological period and I want live experience to continue to hold its appeal.
Looking back at your career, what are the key lessons you’ve learned that you would share with aspiring directors?
One should do this job if they can’t live without it. That may sound strong or a bit pessimistic, but it isn’t! It is being in tune with reality, and this is what I’ve learned. If you can’t live without it, then you should absolutely do it. You need to know what you bring into the room, as it can save someone a lot of frustration.
What is an opera myth that you’d like to see debunked?
This thing of the opera being elitist. The opera is expensive because there are so many people working to produce a live show on the day, and I don’t think people are aware of that.
I think it is an experience for everyone to have – you don’t need to read up on it, you don’t need to dress your best, you don’t need to feel that you do not belong. Historically, it was financed by the aristocracy and so it was considered to be their art form. Composers used to be financed by a court to create the music for that court to enjoy – that is how composers lived. But since then, it has changed. Play ‘Nessun dorma’, Tosca, La traviata, or Carmen to anyone and they will be hooked! This art form can give an emotional experience to everyone.
What is a piece of advice, musical or otherwise, that has stayed with you?
My dad always said to be fearless and keep on going. I hear him in the back of my head saying this. Fear makes us human, but then if you put the fear in front of you, there is no journey, there is no path, there is no nothing. So put the fear behind you. Acknowledge that this is common for everyone, and this is what makes you human, but put it behind you, not in front of you.
Interview by Holly Bancroft
