Gustav Mahler despised it. Its publisher feared commercial ruin. Critics dismissed it as little more than "noise" and predicted its swift oblivion. Yet, over 125 years after its January 1900 premiere, Giacomo Puccini's fifth opera, Tosca, stands as one of the most reliably profitable works in the operatic repertoire.
A Hard-Won Success
Classical music cherishes tales of triumph against the odds. Consider Beethoven's struggles, Wagner's Tannhäuser initially booed off stage, or the riotous premiere of Stravinsky's The Rite of Spring. In Tosca's case, it is difficult now to fathom how a work brimming with tuneful hits—some of opera's most recognizable numbers—could have prompted a critic to lament a "lack of song." Yet Mahler's own snide dismissal as "papal pageantry with continual chiming of bells" reveals the crux. In 1900, Puccini's integration of "real-world" sounds—bells, screams, cannon fire, religious chant—into his score was groundbreaking, an immersive soundscape. For contemporaries, however, those sound effects seemed radically out of place in an operatic art work.
Enduring Suspicion
This sets Tosca apart from other initially reviled treasures: it still faces suspicion. In the 1950s, musicologist Joseph Kerman branded it a "shabby little shocker." More recently, critic Rupert Christiansen described it as a "tawdry but irresistible melodrama." The opera's most persistent problem in certain circles is its popularity—overwhelming melodic appeal combined with a gripping plot of sex and death.
A Study of Evil
"It's also a study of evil," suggests US director Ted Huffman, "which we find really entertaining in a horrible way." Huffman spoke between rehearsals for his new production at Glyndebourne in East Sussex. The summer festival has run since 1934, but this is its first staging of Tosca. "I associate this piece only with the largest theatres," says Huffman. "It's interesting to do Tosca on this scale, which is much more intimate than opera houses like the Royal Opera House or the Met." Glyndebourne's smaller stage and auditorium mean "people will experience it as a slightly different piece," full of "little conversations and asides and minuscule plot points that are very important." Crucially, the size means "you don't have to telegraph those details to the audience in a big way."
Traditional Grandeur
For over a century, productions have reproduced the same details on the grandest scale. As specified by Puccini and his librettists, Tosca is set in three real Roman locations in 1800: Sant'Andrea della Valle, Palazzo Farnese, and Castel Sant'Angelo. While modern productions rarely follow historical stage directions literally, the vast majority still present a monumentally realistic Rome with priests in cassocks, a painter hero, a heroine in red placing candelabras on the villain's corpse, and a leap from the battlements.
Relevance Today
Huffman emphasizes that Tosca is "a piece about state violence and resistance and heroism"—themes highly relevant today. Yet bold reimaginings are rare. Where are the equivalents of Jonathan Miller's 1950s-set Rigoletto or Claus Guth's space-bound La Bohème? Huffman, known for intrepid new opera, is cautious, agreeing the work seems "more rooted in its setting than most." Changing time and place is possible, but Puccini's "little narrative details" remain vital.
Opera critic Tim Ashley notes that "Rome, Catholicism and the queasy symbiosis between church and state are so embedded in Tosca that most directors shy away from rethinking it." The Te Deum closing act one—an authentic religious chant accompanying the villain's erotic fantasy—and the bells in act three's prelude, tuned per Puccini's location research, exemplify his commitment to realism. No wonder directors have filmed on-location productions of a work pre-empting modern cinema and TV.
Rare Radical Productions
Among countless productions, Ashley cites only two major deviations: Barrie Kosky's "opéra noir" for Dutch National Opera (minimalist chic, a sushi-making villain, though Tosca still wears red) and Martin Kušej's staging for Vienna's Theater an der Wien, set in a post-apocalyptic wasteland of grimy caravans and snow.
At Glyndebourne, Huffman's production draws inspiration from 1940s Italian neorealist film. "Not in a literal way," he clarifies, but exploring realism that "comes back at certain times when we need to assess what has gone wrong politically in our world." He adds with a chuckle: "People keep asking me whether there are two candelabras at the end of act two. Spoiler: there aren't. I'm sorry."
Tosca is at Glyndebourne, East Sussex, from 21 May to 22 June and 4 to 30 August.
