Opera is one of those things that people either adore or approach with hesitation. I’ve always leaned towards the latter, unsure if I had the patience for its grand pacing and extended musical sequences. Yet, somehow, I found myself sitting through a three-and-a-half-hour production of L’incoronazione di Poppea experiencing both the challenges and the brilliance of opera. What followed was an evening that tested my stamina, my essay deadlines, and, unexpectedly, my appreciation for the genre.

At just over three hours long, this production was certainly a test of endurance – lasting even longer than I had bargained for. Somehow, despite the already ambitious runtime, they ran over by another forty minutes. Just when I thought it was over, it wasn’t. The triumphant moment arrived, we all braced ourselves to stretch our legs, and then – an extended marriage scene. Nothing says pacing quite like hammering home a point we’d all already grasped: Nero and Poppea are together. For now – until he inevitably murders her.

“What followed was an evening that tested my stamina, my essay deadlines, and, unexpectedly, my appreciation for the genre”

By the time I finally emerged into the night, I knew there was no way I could sit through another three-and-a-half-hour performance. But I have to admit, this production convinced me that opera has its merits. Perhaps there is something to be said for the indulgence, the grandeur, and the sheer musical brilliance that carries these stories beyond their often ridiculous lengths. I may have walked in rolling my eyes, but I left (eventually) with a newfound appreciation for the genre.

Despite my grievances, the experience was far from futile. Both the protagonists and minor characters infused their performances with depth and commitment, ensuring that no moment on stage felt wasted, even if some of the time was. The costume design, performances, and set design were all executed with precision, creating a world that felt both immersive and believable. Much of this success was owed to the striking vision of director Livia Bell, whose direction shaped a production that balanced grand spectacle with emotional intimacy.

Each performer brought nuance and intensity to their roles: Edie Behr captured Poppea’s ambition and allure with mesmerizing presence, while Myriam Lowe portrayed Nero with a commanding blend of volatility and charm. Miki Derdun, as Seneca, bore the weight of wisdom and fate with a profound gravitas, never more so than in his final moments when, surrounded by a chorus pleading for his life, he stood resolute – his serenity a stark counterpoint to their anguish. It was a scene of devastating beauty: voices rising in desperation, hands outstretched, yet Seneca remained unmoved, bound to a philosophy that demanded acceptance, even of death. And in that stillness, his measured, unshaken farewell, Derdun made time itself feel fragile.

“It was a scene of devastating beauty: voices rising in desperation, hands outstretched”

Visually, the production was equally stunning, thanks in large part to costume designer Esther Crasnow-Dodd, whose meticulous attention to detail ensured that the sharp, era-appropriate costumes reinforced the 1980s setting. Every visual and theatrical choice complemented the grandeur of the opera, from the carefully constructed staging that made each scene feel dynamic and purposeful to the opulent yet grounded aesthetic. Even in its most excessive moments, the production remained visually and emotionally compelling.

One of the lines sung in this production advises: “Learn from your eyes. Don’t be naive." What I learned from my eyes was sheer beauty. A production crafted with precision, depth, and thoughtfulness. The transposition of Monteverdi’s 17th-century masterpiece to the decadence of a 1980s corporate world, combined with powerful physical performances, made the stage a spectacle. And my ears? They learned something even greater. The music, the singing – every note felt alive. Each vocal flourish and orchestral passage was a reminder of why Monteverdi’s work endures centuries later. Though a minor character, Garbhan McEnoy as Lucan left an indelible mark, his voice carrying both the fire of defiance and the sorrow of inevitability. In his performance, poetry and prophecy became one, his lines not merely sung but flung into the air like a challenge to fate itself. The musical execution was as polished as it was heartfelt, proving that even the longest operatic ordeal can still transport and transform.

If operas are meant to be overwhelming, all-encompassing experiences, then this production certainly succeeded. As the cast belted out some of the most intricate and emotionally charged compositions I have ever heard, it was difficult not to be moved. Even as I internally begged the gods of timekeeping for mercy, I had to acknowledge the sheer artistry before me. This was opera at its most indulgent, and yet, for all its excess, it worked.

Even more impressively, they made Monteverdi feel relevant. Amid all the wheeling and dealing, the greed, the ambition, and the betrayal, I couldn’t help but be reminded of a particularly lively Cambridge Union debate.

So, should you go see it? Absolutely. If you can make peace with the runtime, it’s worth every second. The singing, the concept, the execution – all brilliant. But be prepared: this is not an opera for the faint-hearted (or the deadline-laden). You will need patience. You will need stamina. So clear your schedule, pack provisions, and maybe send an email to your supervisor explaining why your next essay might be delayed.

L’incoronazione di Poppea is showing at the West Road Concert Hall from Thursday 27 February until Saturday 1 March, at 8.00 pm, and on Saturday 1 March at 2.00 pm.