News
Audiences boo after Royal Opera House chief steps in for famous Turandot movement.
Turandot remains one of the most celebrated operas, with performances frequently staged by opera companies globally.
Cameron Gilchrist
Jan 30, 2026
Audiences booed a Covent Garden production of Puccini’s ‘Turandot’ in January 2026 after the tenor became unwell during the performance. The Chief of The Royal Opera, Richard Hetherington, was forced to replace French tenor Roberto Alagna, who was playing the role of Prince Calàf. Hetherington sang the role from the wings while the show’s choreographer acted on stage. The opera resumed Act III after the famous ‘Nessun Dorma’ aria, and ended before the final scenes.
The Independent reported that some audience members booed and left the theatre, while others are said to have thrown things. Opera has a long and varied history with booing and other vocal reactions from audiences. Speaking to the Guardian, opera historian Flora Wilson said, “opera seems to provoke more vocal reactions than spoken theatre or musicals, but mostly booing is directed at opera singers, whose job it is to perform frankly astonishing athletic feats on a nightly basis”. John Berry, former director of the English National Opera said that “it’s a tradition in some theatres but uncommon in the UK”.
Some argued that Hetherington’s act embodied the spirit of the arts. Writer Kenan Malik said it was “hugely brave and impressive of [him] to step in”. Others criticised The Royal Opera, arguing there should have been an understudy, especially given the opera’s notoriety, to which they responded that “Calàf is not the type of role for which a cover typically stands by during every performance”.
Turandot was premiered in 1926, two years after Puccini’s death. The end of the opera was completed by Franco Alfano. The Royal Opera’s revival of the work was produced for the Los Angeles Olympics in 1984, and has been a 40-year success since then.
‘Nessun Dorma’ faced a wave of popularity during the 1990s, which coincided with Puccini’s music coming out of copyright in 1994, leading to high financial viability. The aria contains Calàf’s proclamation that he will win Turandot’s love. ‘Nessun Dorma’ translates to ‘none shall sleep’, referring to the heralds announcing that no one will sleep until the mysterious prince has been discovered.
Opinion
Royal Opera booing: a stifled cry finally heard.
Cameron Gilchrist Arts and culture correspondent
Fri 30 Jan 2026 08.00 GMT
In a January 2026 performance of Turandot at the Covent Garden Royal Opera House, audiences booed the chief of The Royal Opera after he stepped in to sing the role of Prince Calàf after French tenor Roberto Alagna became unwell. Puccini’s Turandot has become a regularly performed opera since its surge in popularity in the 1990s. The Independent reported that some audience members booed and left the theatre, while others are said to have thrown things.
In Europe, booing and other vocal reactions are often part of the culture and atmosphere of attending an opera. Audiences have maintained their characteristic of being an engaged and communicative part of the performance environment. John Berry, former director of the English National Opera said that “it’s uncommon in the UK”. Internationally, opera has a long and varied history with audience engagement and reactions. Opera historian Flora Wilson said “opera seems to provoke more vocal reactions than spoken theatre or musicals”.
Today, opera often has a high financial barrier to access, and is mostly attended by middle and upper-class audiences. Daniel Snowman, a social historian, wrote that “for many [the word opera] has become heavily loaded with resonances of grandeur, wealth and ‘elitism’”. Is the ‘refined’, silent, opera audience a sign of the engrained elitism – an injured art form protecting itself?
I have performed in two operas with a national opera company and still find myself feeling out of place in an audience, or second-guessing my chosen outfit when my surroundings are grey hair and suits. This is despite the efforts of many opera companies to encourage students and young people to attend, with financial offers and discounted tickets. Many still question whether opera is ‘for them’.
How is today’s opera audience different to that of years gone by? This dilemma is of particular interest, as opera’s roots are in that of communication and social messaging – a tool for society to communicate with itself. For a long time, opera reflected the political and social dynamics of the time, and was intertwined with parallel movements in art, music, literature, and dance. A truly multifaceted art form that reflected the sentiments and struggles shared by all people. One of the most revered operas, Mozart’s The Marriage of Figaro, for example, subtly critiques the privileged aristocracy and reflects the dissatisfaction among the lower class.
At some point, this sentiment was lost, and opera became a repeatable cultural idiom. Audiences began to expect to see operas contain a certain set of characteristics within a performance – there was a ‘blueprint’.
This Covent Garden debacle solidifies the notion that opera today exists neither for the performers nor the audience, but as a product struggling to be sold.
Feature
Behind choral music’s quiet but defiant resistance.
Sitting in the corner of the Choir room in Leeds Minster, surrounded by endless shelves of scores and copies, it’s hard not to feel the power of the connection to space that is perhaps felt uniquely in choral music.
By Cameron Gilchrist
March 10, 2026
While choral music may not feel immediately relevant to everyone, the community-driven practice is far more wide-reaching and engrained than one may initially think.
Alex Woodrow is the Director of Music at Leeds Minster. Built in 1841, Leeds Minster (formerly Leeds Parish Church) was the largest to be built in England since St. Paul’s Cathedral. Music has been intertwined with services since the church was built, and continues to this day. The Minster choir, thirty to forty strong, sings at three services each week.
The parish church congregation is perhaps the most unique type of audience, in that they often haven’t specifically come for the music yet understand and appreciate its importance. There will be varying levels of engagement and appreciation for the performance. “Within any congregation you’ve got a whole host of people”, Alex says. “Some like a good tune, and some like music that inspires them and challenges them”.
As a non-religious person who has spent a lot of time in churches through my own choral practice, I was eager to discuss the relevance and importance of choral, and specifically church singing, to the wider population. Many view the world of choral and church music, and even classical music more broadly, as quite guarded, accessed only by a specific audience.
In the physical world, choral and church music exists in a slightly coveted niche, and this is amplified in the digital space, owing to its historically ‘offline’ nature. Alex believes there is a wider value to this music being shared to listeners who may not think they’re the target audience. Having recently recorded Lloyd Weber’s cantata ‘The Saviour’, the first recording of this work, he spoke about the accessibility of choral church music to the wider public as “being something slightly exotic and something that can really draw people in in a very questioning way, in terms of listening to what you’re hearing, taking in the poetry, and often that being quite an inspiring, potent, combination”.
The children’s choir, which was re-established one year ago after being suspended a decade ago due to a lack of numbers, has begun to perform at these services as well. Overall, this is an incredibly positive step in the direction of encouraging more children to sing, and is a sign of the revitalisation of choral music generally. However, it also highlights the way in which the responsibility for adequate music education is falling on organisations and institutions, rather than the education service. This development of the Minster’s musical offerings is of immense benefit both musically, and in terms of building community. What it is indicative of, however, is a lack of musical education being offered by schools, and other public institutions.
Alex spoke about the role of a strong music education, and the impact it had on his career as an organist and director. He describes how he “was lucky through school to have excellent teaching, and excellent opportunities to make music, and to learn about performance and academic music.
Other organisations in Leeds have felt the burden of being at the forefront of music education for children and young people, with Opera North and Leeds Cathedral both offering school music education programs within the local area.
“It’s obviously filling a gap… but equally well, I think it’s probably running people ragged”, Alex says. “And says, I’m afraid, a lot that’s not very good about the weight and the note that is given to cultural subjects and to the study of subjects such as music”.
That gap was worsened by the Department for Education’s music education budget. It was allocated a pitiful amount, which has remained the same for five years. Even with this plan, music within primary schools has all but vanished, and the same is happening within secondary teaching due to a monumental decline in the registration of new teachers. Dr Ally Daubney (Honorary Senior Lecturer in Education at the University of Sussex) spoke to the Westminster Education Forum, saying that “the bottom line is that there is a wilful refusal from the Department for Education to demonstrate why the restructure will yield anything constructive for the child.”
Chris Stokes, Master of the Choristers at Manchester Cathedral said in a review of the Minster’s music department that there needed to be a modernised approach to the choir and its future. A particular emphasis was on reprioritising the collaborative nature of music making when these institutions were first originating, and the potential for this to “yield results that are greater than the sum of the parts”.
“When they were building these big town halls and these big civic centres of industry and commerce, massed amateur music making, choral societies and brass bands, were absolutely intrinsic to building community”, Alex says.
As our interview finishes, to the sound of the Minster’s Harrison & Harrison organ’s sonorous tones in preparation for the evening’s service, Alex concedes that “it’s not all doom and gloom”, and that a revival of choral music has left him “quietly optimistic”. “I think there are more people singing, making music in choirs, all the way up from learn by ROTE community choir, up to specialist chamber ensembles than there have been since the 19th C. in this country.”
“There’s a lot of energy,” he adds, “a lot happening.”
Review
Opera North: Peter Grimes.
A sea of yellow amongst the coastal chatter of The Borough.
Leeds Grand Theatre, February 11, 2026
By Cameron Gilchrist
Published: February 12, 2026, 4:00pm
Benjamin Britten’s Peter Grimes was first performed in Sadler’s Wells in London in 1945, at the end of World War II. It is largely responsible for Britten’s recognition as a composer. Eighty years later, a reimagined performance, brought to life by Phyllida Lloyd, Karolina Sofulak, and Tim Claydon, enhances this enduring tale. This opera perfectly encapsulates Britten’s pioneering musical voice, and Opera North bring it to life spectacularly.
John Findom’s silky tone and callous demeanour breathe life into the mystifying, fortified gentile of Peter Grimes. A misunderstood outsider within the cliquey Suffolk-inspired town, Grimes is subject to both the internal and external torment that comes with not fitting the mould. Much of this production rests on the prowess of the performer of Grimes. A challenging role for a tenor, Britten’s meticulously expressive yet technical lines call for unparalleled technical prowess and ensemble awareness.
While each director and portrayer of Grimes chooses contrasting elements of the character to emphasise, Findom & Lloyd’s choice to lean into the emotionally aware yet socially curtailed character brings added emotional depth to the performance.
Philippa Boyle’s magnificent performance as Ellen Orford, particularly her immense solo towards the end of the work imprinted her conviction and dedication to this character, perhaps the most convincingly of all. Her commitment to Grimes through all his misgivings and unwise behaviour was at times teeth-gritting but equally as enthralling.
The ambiguity of this interpretation plays on the emotions of the audience. The objectively unacceptable behaviour that Grimes displays towards the women and children he encounters, yet as he weeps and tenderly holds the lifeless body of his apprentice in his arms, the conflict of any viewer in the room is tangible.
Powerful scenes from the Opera North Chorus present the unified idea of the village, defiant against the terrors Grimes brings. The use of ‘mob’ imagery and slightly absurdist mass movement direction drives the surreal and off-kilter atmosphere cultivated on stage.
Poetically minimal, highly evocative sets create stark imagery, invoking ‘us and them’ scenes, with Anthony Ward’s design prowess concreting the isolating narrative Grimes finds himself consumed by. Ben Jacobs’ otherworldly lighting casts a haunting maritime glow across the stage, highlighting the industrial backdrop of fishing nets and wooden pallets.
The eerie, hypnotic finale, as it descends into silence, imprints upon the audience the loneliness and solitude, and the peace which Peter Grimes finds only with the sea.
