Pascal Dusapin’s Passion by Neue Oper Wien

Muth Concert Hall [ENA] Pascal Dusapin's Passion, performed as the Austrian premiere by Neue Oper Wien, is a gripping and profoundly unsettling exploration of the darker side of love and relationships. This production, directed by Ursula Horner, takes the audience into the harrowing depths of emotional obsession, where the line between passion and destruction blurs in the most haunting ways.

Dusapin’s opera, first premiered in 2008 at Aix-en-Provence and hailed as one of the 21st century's greatest musical works, offers a stirring combination of intricate musical textures and raw human emotion. Under Horner's masterful direction, the production becomes an intense examination of the dynamics of power, manipulation, and the pain that comes with losing oneself to love. At the center of Passion are two characters, Lui (played by Wolfgang Resch) and Lei (played by Melis Demiray), whose relationship oscillates between deep yearning and painful entrapment.

While the title might suggest a narrative that glorifies love as something transcendent, the story reveals the corrosive side of passion — the side that devours both individuals and leaves a trail of emotional wreckage in its wake. In this performance, Horner emphasizes the toxic undercurrents of the relationship, presenting the love between Lui and Lei not as a mutual exchange but as a battleground for control and power. Their interactions depict an unhealthy imbalance, where Lui’s obsessive desires are imposed upon Lei, who is gradually consumed by the weight of his expectations and emotional demands.

The opera becomes less about two people finding solace in one another, and more about the suffocating nature of a bond where one partner dominates the other. The genius of Dusapin’s opera, and what Horner’s direction captures so brilliantly, is the way in which the score mirrors these emotional and psychological dynamics. The dissonance in the music reflects the inner turmoil of the characters, particularly Lui’s obsessive need to possess Lei. There is a constant tension in the air — a feeling that everything is on the verge of collapsing. The hypnotic quality of the music, coupled with its jarring dissonances, reflects the push-and-pull of their destructive relationship.

It’s as though the very soundscape of the opera is trapped in the same emotional vortex as the characters, unable to break free from the cycle of pain and longing. What makes this production of Passion stand out is Horner's decision to place the theme of power abuse at the forefront of the narrative. In many ways, this opera is about more than just a relationship gone wrong; it is about the devastating consequences of emotional manipulation and control. Lui’s character embodies this abusive power dynamic, using his love for Lei as a weapon to keep her emotionally tethered to him. His feelings of desire and need morph into a kind of imprisonment, where Lei is left with little agency or ability to escape the toxic grip of the relationship.

Horner’s direction does not shy away from this uncomfortable reality. In fact, she leans into it, forcing the audience to confront the harsh truth that love, when coupled with control, can become a vehicle for abuse. The title Passion takes on a double meaning here: on the one hand, it refers to the intensity of Lui’s feelings, but on the other hand, it echoes its Latin root, “passio,” meaning suffering. Lei becomes the embodiment of this suffering, trapped in a relationship where her own needs and desires are silenced beneath the weight of Lui’s overpowering presence.

In one particularly poignant moment, Lei attempts to reclaim her voice and express her own emotions, but every time she does, she is met with resistance from Lui, whose obsessive need to dominate the narrative of their relationship overshadows her. This dynamic is heartbreakingly familiar to anyone who has experienced an abusive relationship, where one person’s voice is continually drowned out by the other’s emotional demands. The way in which Horner stages this moment, with Lei standing isolated on the stage while Lui’s voice surrounds her, is a powerful visual representation of emotional entrapment. It is a scene that lingers long after the final note has been sung.

In one particularly poignant moment, Lei attempts to reclaim her voice and express her own emotions, but every time she does, she is met with resistance from Lui, whose obsessive need to dominate the narrative of their relationship overshadows her. This dynamic is heartbreakingly familiar to anyone who has experienced an abusive relationship, where one person’s voice is continually drowned out by the other’s emotional demands. The way in which Horner stages this moment, with Lei standing isolated on the stage while Lui’s voice surrounds her, is a powerful visual representation of emotional entrapment. It is a scene that lingers long after the final note has been sung.

The roles of victim and abuser are carefully drawn in this production, with both performers giving extraordinary depth to their characters. Melis Demiray’s portrayal of Lei is particularly moving, as she captures the vulnerability and confusion of a woman caught in the throes of a relationship she cannot escape. Demiray’s performance is layered, portraying Lei not as a passive victim, but as someone who is desperately trying to navigate the complexities of her emotions. She is at once strong and fragile, a woman who yearns for love but is slowly realizing that what she has with Lui is not love but emotional captivity.

Wolfgang Resch’s Lui, on the other hand, is a chilling depiction of the abuser who may not fully understand the harm he is causing. Resch manages to bring a certain degree of humanity to Lui’s character, which makes his actions all the more disturbing. He does not play Lui as a villain, but rather as someone whose obsessive love has twisted into something dark and destructive. This nuance in his performance underscores one of the most uncomfortable truths about abusive relationships: the abuser often believes that what they are doing is out of love. Resch’s Lui is both terrifying and tragic — a man who cannot see that his love has become a form of violence.

Adding another layer of complexity to the performance is the presence of Gli altri — the Others — who act as both a Greek chorus and a manifestation of Lui’s inner voice. The PPCM Vokalensemble, with their madrigal-like commentary, offers a counterpoint to the main action, providing insight into the psychological states of the characters. Their haunting, disembodied voices reflect Lui’s internal struggle, echoing his doubts, desires, and guilt. They also serve as a reminder of the societal pressures and norms that often reinforce the toxic power dynamics within relationships.

This chorus is a brilliant addition, offering a multifaceted perspective on the events unfolding on stage. Their presence suggests that Lui’s actions are not happening in isolation, but are influenced by broader societal forces that condone or ignore emotional abuse. In this sense, Passion becomes not just a story about two individuals, but a commentary on the larger, systemic issues that perpetuate unhealthy relationships.

At the heart of this production is Dusapin’s extraordinary score, which is brought to life by the amadeus ensemble-wien under the musical direction of Walter Kobéra. The music in Passion is both beautiful and unsettling, with its sensitive harpsichord tones and hypnotic dissonances. Dusapin’s use of French Baroque references creates a delicate tension between tradition and modernity, much like the tension that exists between Lui and Lei. The strict beauty of the score mirrors the emotional restraint of the characters, while the discordant elements hint at the turmoil lurking beneath the surface.

Kobéra’s interpretation of the score is masterful, balancing the rich emotional textures with a sense of restraint that keeps the music from overwhelming the drama on stage. Every note feels intentional, serving the larger narrative of the opera and enhancing the emotional journey of the characters. The amadeus ensemble-wien performs with precision and sensitivity, drawing out the underlying emotions in Dusapin’s complex musical landscape.

Neue Oper Wien’s production of Passion is a masterful exploration of the destructive side of love. Through Ursula Horner’s insightful direction and the powerful performances of the cast, the audience is taken on a journey into the darkest corners of human relationships, where passion becomes obsession and love becomes a means of control. This is not a story of redemption or healing, but one of tragic inevitability, where the characters are trapped in a cycle of emotional abuse from which there is no escape.

Horner’s focus on the themes of power abuse and the victim-abuser dynamic makes this production particularly relevant in today’s conversations about relationships and consent. Passion is a cautionary tale about the dangers of losing oneself in another person, and it serves as a stark reminder that not all love is healthy — or safe. This production of Passion leaves a lasting impact, both emotionally and intellectually. It forces the audience to confront uncomfortable truths about relationships, and it does so with a haunting beauty that lingers long after the final curtain. It is, without a doubt, one of the most powerful and thought-provoking operatic performances of recent years.