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Ariane’s Adventure Madrid
Teatro Real
01/26/2026 - & January 31, February 5, 11*, 15, 20, 2026
Paul Dukas: Ariane et Barbe‑Bleue
Gianluca Buratto (Barbe-Bleue), Paula Murrihy (Ariane), Silvia Tro Santafé (La nourrice), Aude Extrémo (Sélysette), Jaquelina Livieri (Ygraine), Maria Miró (Mélisande). Renée Rapier (Bellangère), Raquel Villarejo Hervás (Alladine), Luis López Navarro (Un vieux paysan), José Angel Florido, Nacho Ojeda (Paysans)
Coro Titular del Teatro Real, José Luis Basso (chorus master), Orquesta Titular del Teatro Real (Orquesta Sinfónica de Madrid), Pinchas Steinberg (conductor)
Alex Ollé (stage director), Alfons Flores (sets), Josep Abril Janer (costumes), Urs Schönebaum (lights)
P. Murrihy (© Javier del Real/Teatro Real)
Paul Dukas (1865-1935) based his only opera, the rarely-performed Ariane et Barbe‑Bleue (débuted in 1907) on the play by symbolist playwright Maurice Maeterlinck (1862‑1949). Musically distinct from contemporaneous French opera, it could be described as post‑Wagnerian. This production, realized by the brilliant Spanish director Alex Ollé, will hopefully encourage other opera companies to mount this unconventional yet fascinating work.
The symbolist libretto features limited action but much reflection. The story is similar to the fairy tale. In Act I, Bluebeard brings his new wife and her nurse to his castle. The peasants clamour for Bluebeard’s death as they believe he murdered his five previous wives. Ariane is not fearful and declares: “Il m’aime, je suis belle, et j’aurai son secret. D’abord il faut désobéir : c’est le premier devoir quand l’ordre est menaçant et ne s’explique pas.” Given seven keys to Bluebeard’s treasure chambers and warned never to use the seventh one, the defiant Ariane uses all the keys. The first six open to treasures of jewels, sapphires, pearls, rubies, emeralds and diamonds; the seventh is a chamber of darkness in which the five previous wives are imprisoned. A furious Bluebeard shouts “Vous aussi !”; the defiant Ariane retorts “Moi surtout.” When the peasants break down the castle’s door and are on the verge of killing Bluebeard, Ariane intervenes in his defence, stating that she is safe and that he has done her no harm.
Director Alex Ollé and set designer Alfons Flores evoked the oppressive atmosphere of Bluebeard’s castle using minimalist geometric sets that at times were terrifying. A flood of lights represented the glitter of Bluebeard’s treasure. The peasant chorus was integrated into the wedding banquet where the initially gracious guests transformed into angry peasants. Most alluring was the video used to show Ariane and her groom driving away from Madrid into the countryside to Bluebeard’s manor. So much was conveyed in this video: Bluebeard’s charisma and grand seigneur disposition, Ariane’s charm and, above all, her strong character.
In Act II, Ariane and her nurse are imprisoned behind the seventh door. Ariane is unshaken: “Il est blessé, il est vaincu, mais il l’ignore encore...” They find the five wives who, when asked why they did not try to escape, respond: “On ne pourrait pas fuir; car tout est bien fermé; et puis c’est défendu.” Here we understand Maeterlinck’s choice of Ariane as protagonist. This is Ariadne, daughter of King Minos of Crete, who guided Theseus through the Labyrinth so that he may slaughter the Minotaur before he killed the twelve virgins in return for Theseus taking her away. The perfidious “hero” abandons Ariadne on the island of Naxos, in a dark dungeon. Ariane gives hope to the captive women, thus playing both Ariadne who has the knowledge of the Labyrinth and the resourcefulness to give Theseus a thread, and Theseus who has prowess. Here, Ariane is Ariadne and Theseus fused into one.
Director Alex Ollé chose to expand the presence of the five wives by having Ariane and her nurse appear in quadruple, creating a striking sense of multiplicity. Ariane leads the women to a mirror, where they are confronted with their own reflections—a figurative gesture toward self‑awareness and conscience. Maeterlinck gave the five women names from his previous plays, including Mélisande, at whose appearance there is a musical quotation from Debussy’s Pelléas et Mélisande. One of the wives, Alladine, cannot talk as she is a foreigner (ἄλλος or állos signifies “other” in Ancient Greek). Visually, the finale of Act II was breathtaking: the women—multiplied fourfold—unite to heap the furniture into a towering mound, which they ascend in their collective surge toward freedom.
In Act III, the women have not been able to break free because of the castle’s magic. Bluebeard’s carriage is ambushed by peasants, who cut down his guard; only Ariane’s intervention saves him from death. The magic is broken and Ariane beseeches the women to leave with her. However, they decide to stay. Bluebeard tries to stop her but relents; she and her nurse leave, while the five wives remain.
Ollé’s staging succeeded in bringing this static opera to life. The libretto’s only truly developed character is that of Ariane. Though to a lesser extent, so are the nurse and one of the wives, Sélysette. Vocally, Ariane was written for a dramatic soprano, but this production decided on Irish mezzo Paula Murrihy, whose powerful voice and charisma almost justify the choice. The nurse, well‑performed by Silvia Tro Santafé, heard two seasons ago as Elisabetta in Maria Stuarda in Valencia, is a mezzo role. Sélysette, the most vibrant of the five wives, is a contralto, sung here by the magnificent Aude Extrémo. The choice of a heroic dramatic soprano for the heroine and liberator (or at least one who tries to free the women) is an obvious one. However, by having all three main roles sung by low female voices, there was a certain monotony.
Pinchas Steinberg’s musical direction was exemplary, especially in the opening scene and in the finale of Act II. Steinberg, admired in 2020 for his direction of Korngold’s Violanta in Turin, has a special affinity for late Romantic composers and early twentieth century music. Given the monumental nature of Dukas’s score, it felt positively Straussian. Like Richard Strauss, Paul Dukas favored a preeminence of female voices—though not in the soaring stratospheric register Strauss so often preferred.
Contrary to appearances, this is not necessarily a feminist opera, nor is the director’s vision the championing of women. The fact that the five women chose to remain for continued abuse by Bluebeard is a reflection of the human condition (the Orwellian “the slavery we know rather than the freedom we ignore”) rather than a feminine dialectic. The innovation here is opting for a woman as hero and liberator. The choice of a mythological figure that was once duped by her “liberator” points to the more cherished human trait, the capacity to learn.
Ossama el Naggar
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