Bellini’s I Puritani on January 6, 10, and 18 at the Metropolitan Opera. From the opening, the orchestra surged into the hunting-horn tutti, with strings, horns, bassoons, and timpani building intensity, while the Puritans’ triple-meter march intertwined with the chorus like a massive concerto. Lisette Oropesa’s Elvira floated above the violas’ weight, her delicate voice revealing the trembling of her heart. Artur Ruciński’s Riccardo sang unbroken lines that seemed to stretch time, while the orchestra responded with harmony and articulation, creating a vivid dialogue between voice and ensemble.

I Puritani combines simple marches into a complex, kaleidoscopic structure, revealing both the purity of the human heart and the expressive freedom of bel canto.

Dr. Strauss's Arabella, which premiered in 1933, started its rebirth at the Met Opera on 11.10.2025. I love it the first time. The excitement and thrill of seeing the work I had been looking forward to for the first time are still fresh, even 11 years later. It's fun to see the completed Maestro vs. Met. It's also fun to see the highly anticipated new work. But the best part is being reunited with the best friends. It’s moving to see Maestro Nicholas Carter (Hamlet and Britten) with his whole body, sending life into Strauss’s music—urging the mighty Met Opera Orchestra, led by the concertmaster, Benjamin Bowman, to sing out and come alive.

Donizetti’s La Fille du Régiment, which premiered in 1840, opened at the Met Opera on 10.17.2025. Refined and flexible overture. The strings flowed in a legato unlike Mozart or Bellini—light, supple, smooth as silk. Under Sagripanti’s brushwork, the Met Orchestra’s colors spread like a live fresco on an autumn night in New York.

I saw the 6th performance of Don Giovanni at the Met. Compared to the first performance, the orchestra’s more polished, period-informed approach felt intimate, light, and like a playful conversation. Against this backdrop, the singers’ refinement and subtle humor allowed Mozart’s modernity to shine at the Met. From beginning to end, the music was alive—overflowing with vitality. The texture of the orchestra’s sound was completely different when the Commendatore was alive versus after he was killed. The orchestra masterfully distinguished between a human brimming with life and one on the verge of death. When I focused on the singers, the orchestra’s sound came through even more vividly.

Rolando Villazón’s production depicts the village as strict and repressive, using minimalist sets and Alpine projections to contrast Amina’s sleepwalking freedom with societal pressures when awake. Nadine Sierra skillfully portrayed both her liberated and vulnerable sides, while the orchestra mirrored this with bright string tuttis for waking scenes and ethereal textures for dreamlike moments, emphasizing Amina’s innocence and marginalization.

Mason Bates hung speakers from the ceiling of the world’s largest opera house, which convinced someone who had enjoyed Detroit, German techno, or other electronica that a fine symphonic experience was the event. The sound filled the vast space of the Met. Met orchestra, including Wagner tubas, was layered with electronics. Speakers were positioned on both sides of the stage and from the ceiling, blending electronic sound as if to create a new species, resonance, and power in the orchestra. Whereas I usually find PA effects distracting, they were intricately integrated. For someone like me, who has enjoyed both classical and electronic music, it was a new sensation to experience The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay at the Metropolitan Opera.

Mozart’s masterpiece comes vividly to life. Emotion infused the score, where even a sigh became music, and the Met orchestra and singers revealed the complexity of human ties. Yannick Nézet-Séguin let Mozart’s voice emerge freshly, alive with individuality and truth.

Claus Guth’s new Salome at the Met reimagines Strauss’ 1905 shocker with seven Salomes, tracing abuse, obsession, and fractured identity. Transparent orchestral colors heighten the perverse, ecstatic drama, while Elsa’s portrayal adds compassion over pure decadence. Childhood, violence, and desire fuse in a haunting 21st-century vision.

Opera penetrates your soul's darkness and consumes you, and then the orchestral sounds take it away. Six performances of Strauss's Die Frau ohne Schatten have just finished at the Metropolitan Opera. It's a 4-hour opera, including breaks. Concerts and operas have completely different appeals. Even if you usually experience great sound with headphones or audio, you become part of the work that 3,800 people can experience simultaneously. In a world where people often sacrifice the misfortune of others to achieve their own happiness, Strauss's opera "Saving Her Husband Instead of Self-Sacrifice and Helping Other Unhappy Couples to Become Happy" premiered in 1919, the year after the outbreak of World War I.

Strauss’s Die Frau ohne Schatten opened at the Met. His fourth collaboration with Hofmannsthal, premiered in Vienna in 1919, the opera is filled with mystery and romance, depicting love and compassion through grand orchestration. Yannick Nézet-Séguin led the orchestra with brilliance, guiding the rapidly shifting expressions with clarity and playfulness. Flute, clarinet, and string solos colored the story, while the orchestra’s collective breath brought Strauss’s music to life. The singers were superb, and in Act II, the cello solo filled the hall with a warm, inviting resonance.

Schenk’s 2023 Met production of Tannhäuser showcased a thrilling contest of skill among singers, with each performer elevating the others. Andreas Schager (Tannhäuser) ranged from joy to despair; Christian Gerhaher (Wolfram) conveyed elegance and warmth; Ekaterina Gubanova (Venus) thrilled with her voluptuous tone; Elza van den Heever (Elisabeth) impressed with luminous, effortless singing. Donald Runnicles led the orchestra with color and clarity. The Pilgrims’ Chorus was overwhelming, leaving a lasting impression.