By Robert St. Martin
Los Angeles, CA (The Hollywood Times) 10/3/25 – AI WEIWEI’S “TURANDOT”: The Famous Chinese Artist Directs Puccini’s Final Opera as a Subversive Political Statement
During the past week at the Laemmle Monica Film Center in Santa Monica was an opportunity to see the documentary Ai Weiwei’s “Turandot” (78 min, 2024). The film follows the extraordinary journey of Ai Weiwei, the renowned Chinese revolutionary artist and activist, as he embarked on his operatic directorial debut with Puccini’s Turandot at the iconic Rome Opera House in 2022. Opera had traditionally been seen as elite and apolitical. Ai Weiwei’s foray into the discipline subverts this by using the medium to make bold political statements about refugee crises, surveillance, censorship, and war, bringing activism into a form many consider culturally insulated.
Ai’s version of Turandot is uniquely subversive. Whereas the original storyline is set in a fictionalized ancient China, his adaptation reimagines it with a modern political edge. Every part of the production, from the sets to the costumes, is laced with political meaning. Directed by Maxim Derevianko, the documentary draws on Ai Weiwei’s own experiences of exile from China by the Chinese government and his support for displaced people around the world.
Puccini’s Turandot itself has long been criticized for its exoticized and Westernized portrayal of China, a fictionalized, distorted version of a culture Puccini never experienced firsthand. As his final opera Turandot, which includes the great tenor aria “Nessun dorma,” is one of the few 20th-century operas to have sustained a firm foothold in opera houses across the world. It has been and remains banned in China.
Ai Weiwei, as a Chinese artist who has long critiqued orientalist Western stereotypes and China’s internal oppression alike, is reclaiming and challenging the opera’s portrayal of cultural identity. The personal hardships of his father’s persecution during the Cultural Revolution for his poetry and his subsequent exile, as well as his own experiences with surveillance, censorship, and imprisonment serve as undercurrents for Ai’s critique of the tragic dehumanization caused by authoritarian regimes. Working with his longtime friend and choreographer, Chiang Ching, Ai manages to create a production that serves as a platform for dialogue and change.
Throughout the documentary, Ai reiterates the core belief that guides his production: “Everything is art. Everything is politics.” That tenet is woven into every detail of the opera’s design, starting with its stark, minimalist staging, the use of imagery drawn from the refugee crisis, and the decision to focus less on romance and more on themes of control and resistance. At its core, Ai’s Turandot is about absolute power, fear, and submission, concepts that align with his experiences under the Chinese Communist Party’s surveillance and censorship. Princess Turandot’s cold ruthlessness and the populace’s blind obedience mirror themes in Ai’s broader body of work about authoritarian control.
The film allows the viewer to observe the logistics and the chaos of creating art during a global crisis, as the production was delayed by the Covid-19 pandemic and also affected by the war in Ukraine, which directly impacted the conductor, Oksana Lyniv. Despite having to overcome obstacles occurring on a global scale, Ai and his collaborators pressed on, managing to accomplish this impressive feat in front of the cameras capturing every moment of the journey. Some critics feel that documentary is more a polished piece of public relations. But it does provide connection to the other artistic endeavors of Ai Weiwei and his struggle against oppression over the past decades.
At the start of the documentary, Ai Weiwei concedes that he doesn’t like music much and Western opera is largely beyond his scope. However, 30 years ago while in New York City and penniless, he was actually an extra on stage in a production of “Turandot” by the New York City Opera. In the documentary he comes to understand better the artistic skills of the major creators of opera – includes stagecraft, costume design, and choreography.
The COVID pandemic of 2020 derailed the show only a month into preparations and it was shelved for two years by Rome’s Teatro Dell’Opera and by then the original conductor was no longer available and the production found Oksana Lyniv from the Ukraine as the female conductor. Lyniv took up the conductor’s baton right at the start of the Russia-Ukraine War and inspired Ai Weiwei to incorporate background film footage from the Ukraine War on the back wall behind the tiered moving sets. In the Rome production, conductor Lyniv is joined by her compatriot Oksana Dyka in the title role of Turandot.
Puccini’s works are known for their lush melodies, emotional intensity, and keen understanding of dramatic storytelling. He wrote 12 operas in total – Le Villi (1884), Edgar (1889) Manon Lescaut (1893), La Boheme (1896), Tosca (1990), Madama Butterfly (1904), La Fanciulla del West (1910), La Rondine (1917), Il Trittico (Il Tabarro, Suor Angelica, Gianni Schicchi) (1918) and Turandot (1926).
Turandot is one of Puccini’s most celebrated and unfinished operas. The opera’s libretto, written in three acts by Giuseppe Adami and Renato Simoni, is based on Carlo Gozzi’s play of the same name, which, in turn, draws inspiration from a Persian collection of stories known as “One Thousand and One Nights.” The word “Turandot” is Persian and means “the daughter of Turan” – a region of Central Asia which used to be part of the Persian Empire. The 12th-century Persian fairy tale it’s based on, is known as Turandokht, with both the “kh” and “t” clearly pronounced.
Set in ancient China, Puccini’s opera explores themes of love, power, and redemption and is known for its grandiosity. The opera tells the story of a beautiful but cold-hearted Chinese princess, Turandot, who challenges her suitors with riddles. Failure to answer correctly results in their execution. The narrative unfolds as an unknown prince, Calaf, takes up the challenge, risking his life for the chance to win Turandot’s love. The opera is set against the backdrop of ancient China and is renowned for its grandeur, intricate vocal writing, and the famous aria “Nessun Dorma,” which has become one of the most recognizable and beloved arias in the operatic repertoire.
After Calaf answers the three riddles, Turandot reneges on her word and refuses to marry him, invoking her own version of Hong Kong’s National Security Law. The guards arrest Timur and his loyal maidservant Liù, who’s secretly in love with Calaf. The predatory Turandot, smelling her victims, reappears with a white-widow spider in her hat. The crab guards capture Liù and put a knife to her throat. Under torture, Liù refuses to reveal Calaf’s true name. As Liù’s solo climaxes, we see an animation of mothers and children in refugee camps, echoes of female victims of war and migration.
No one lives “happily ever after” in Ai’s version of the fairy tale Puccini left unfinished at his death. Calaf proves to be no hero at all: He lets his faithful servant Liu die, causes his father to suffer, and stands by as innocent people are tortured, all so he can possess Turandot, the embodiment of tyranny. Ai has cut the final love scene that Franco Alfano wrote after Puccini died, meaning this staging ends with Liù’s death rather than the usual redemption.
For audiences who are familiar with Ai’s activism, the film serves to reiterate his lifelong mission to confront systems of institutional power. For those who are unfamiliar with his work, it offers a glimpse behind the curtain into an artist’s mind as he reshapes one of opera’s greatest works.
