Amid the deafening noise of the elections, this stirring production of Bizet’s classic by LA Opera reminds us that intimate connections in individual lives matter most.
By John Lavitt
Los Angeles, CA (The Hollywood Times) 11-01-2026
As the 2026 American elections approach, the toxic noise of public life feels almost impossible to escape. The political spectacle expands until individual personality is swallowed by the macrocosm, and intimacy becomes another casualty of the uproar. Against this exhausting backdrop, LA Opera’s stunning new production of Georges Bizet’s Carmen at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion feels like a tonic. Even when the world erupts in conflict, the emotional stakes remain profoundly personal.
At the center is Tunisian-Canadian mezzo-soprano Rihab Chaieb, whose hypnotic performance restores the human scale to this grand opera. Her Carmen is not merely seductive or defiant. She is startlingly present, drawing us into a private universe of longing, pride, desire, and danger. Chaieb has the rare ability to make an immense theater feel intimate, as if an audience of thousands were invited into a conversation meant for only two.
That intimacy is especially striking in a production filled with sweeping images. Thaddeus Strassberger, serving as both director and scenic designer, transports us into a Spanish Gothic world where soldiers, smugglers, religious rituals, and social constraints exert relentless pressure. Yet the larger forces never quite eclipse the individual lives beneath them. Even among smugglers evading corrupt authorities, human connections remain the dramatic center.
The most haunting sequence unfolds in the second half, in a walled cemetery on Seville’s outskirts. This city of the dead seems to exist apart from ordinary society, governed by its own customs and spiritual beliefs. These scenes carry a profound sense of exile, where long-cherished hopes hover on the edge of loss.
Among the tombstones, Carmen and her companions read tarot cards, seeking answers about love, fortune, and the dangers ahead. While the cards foretell love and riches for the other women, Carmen sees only death and heartbreak. In that moment, the sweep of history recedes. What matters is one woman’s confrontation with her fate.
Chaieb makes that moment mesmerizing. Her Carmen is headstrong, tempestuous, and fiercely individualistic. Her magnetic cult of personality is both her greatest strength and her undoing. She cannot escape the swirling forces of her own ego, yet Don José’s growing jealousy renders any simple promise of love impossible. The tragedy stems from the collision between her fierce independence and his desperate need to possess her
Grammy Award-winning Mexican-American tenor Joshua Guerrero brings powerful vocal resonance and genuine emotional conviction to Don José, making his desperate passion believable even as it darkens. Bass-baritone Liam James Karai gives Escamillo, the swaggering bullfighter, a grand sense of arrogance, matching his commanding presence with an elegant, flexible voice and a rich, dark timbre.
Under conductor Domingo Hindoyan’s steady guidance, Bizet’s unforgettable score pulses with passion and intensity. Antonio Najarro’s choreography brings movement and energy without sacrificing dramatic purpose. Mattie Ullrich’s costumes and Greg Emetaz’s projections deepen the production’s distinctive atmosphere, while Strassberger’s scenic vision gives the characters a world that is both magnificent and suffocating.
Above all, this production belongs to Carmen herself and to mezzo-soprano Rihab Chaieb’s haunting portrayal of her. Her beauty and charisma are undeniable, yet they cannot shield her from the destructive collision of pride, jealousy, and possessiveness. She is a doomed angel, haunted, like all of us, by her own secret devils.
Ultimately, Carmen reminds us that genuine intimacy cannot endure when love is subordinated to ego. In our increasingly fractured society, that lesson feels more urgent than ever. Let us hope we learn from Carmen and focus instead on love and connection.
