Director/writer/cinematographer Maxim Derevianko delivers a provocative documentary in Ai Weiwei’s Turandot. He follows Ai Weiwei, the renowned Chinese revolutionary artist and activist, in his operatic directorial debut at the iconic Rome Opera House.
It’s important to know that Weiwei is not a musician and has not directed opera before. He mentions that he doesn’t even listen to much music. He seems an odd choice to direct an opera, but when he was approached about Puccini’s Turandot, he was enthusiastic about taking it on. Weiwei uses the operatic framework to re-contextualize current political and social issues, including the Ukraine war, COVID, and other challenges. Weiwei has been a thorn in the side of the Chinese government and has been arrested and harassed repeatedly. He has pressed on undeterred.
The opera is set in China and follows Prince Calaf, who falls in love with the cold-hearted Princess Turandot. She keeps her suitors at bay with three riddles. which they must solve or die. Weiwei says, “This is the perfect story about China.” Turandot is Puccini’s final work, famously left unfinished. When he died another writer tacked on a “happy ending.” Weiwei threw away that ending and left the piece unfinished, as Puccini did. There’s never been any idea what Puccini planned for the finale, and that, according to the film, can be considered one more riddle of Turandot.
“… renowned Chinese revolutionary artist Ai Weiwei in his operatic directorial debut …”
In his director’s statement, Derevianko explains that he was drawn to making Ai Weiwei’s Turandot because of his family history with the Rome Opera House, where his grandfather was a violinist and his mother a ballerina. “…I was driven to make something special about this magical ancestral space. A documentary is what I had imagined immediately, and I decided to wait until the right production came along. I remember the day that I heard about the great Chinese activist artist, Ai Weiwei, coming to the opera house to direct Puccini’s Turandot. I knew beyond a doubt that this would be the perfect project for me…”
Weiwei incorporates into staging, costumes, and movement the symbols he superimposes into the opera, which take the show beyond Puccini’s tale, bringing social and political issues up to date. He also adds cultural anachronisms, such as dancers moonwalking in one section, and he has CCTV cameras all over the stage to reflect the Chinese surveillance state. Video of riot troops plays in the background.
Production on Ai Weiwei’s Turandot was delayed due to the pandemic, but opening 2 years later, Derevianko says, “…of course, everything had a very different taste. Putting this opera on stage was not merely opening a curtain and playing music for a few hours; it was delivering a message of love, of freedom of expression, and finally, for artists being fighters, activists, and symbols of these values, like all of Ai Weiwei’s works.”
Opera exists in an artistic stratosphere that exceeds my reach, for the most part. Still, I’ve seen Turandot and enjoyed it at a superficial level. I recognize the popular aria Nessun Dorma. Derevianko provides a window into the story I wouldn’t have found otherwise.
Weiwei’s production jumps in time from the original fable set in ancient China, to Puccini writing in 1920, to the chaos of our own times. Even if you are not a fan of opera, Ai Weiwei’s Turandot will keep your attention in an entertaining way and illuminate revolutionary impulses in art that you may not have been aware of.
For more information about Ai Weiwei’s Turandot, visit the film’s official website.
"…iluminate[s] revolutionary impulses in art..."
