Opera and scandal have always made for strange bedfellows, but the latest production making waves—Sancta—has taken this trope to unprecedented heights. A combination of avant-garde choreography, explicit sexual acts, and graphic imagery has pushed this piece to the forefront of public discourse, leading to serious, and at times alarming, reactions from its audience.
Performed at the Stuttgart State Opera on the 5th and 6th of October, Sancta, choreographed by Florentina Holzinger, showcases intense moments of visceral performance art. So much so, it left 18 audience members requiring medical attention, some experiencing severe nausea and even fainting. According to Sebastian Ebling, the opera’s spokesperson, this was not merely the result of overly sensitive viewers; the shocking elements of the show included live piercings and unsimulated sexual acts, blended against vivid displays of real and fake blood.
“On Saturday we had eight and on Sunday we had 10 people who had to be looked after by our visitor service,” Ebling reported, noting the presence of emergency medical personnel on site, particularly on three occasions when ambulances were summoned. It’s quite remarkable considering the show was advertised—explicitly—as featuring sensitive content involving explicit sexual behaviors and graphic depictions of violence.
Despite the dramatic reactions, Holzinger's production does not shy away from its provocative premise. Centered around themes of sexuality, repression, and gender, Sancta can only be described as both gripping and disconcerting. Audience reactions, which varied from applause to concern, appeared to depend largely on individual thresholds for confronting such raw and daring performances.
One particularly unsettling moment involved the simulation of physical harm, where one of the performers had what was described as "a small piece of flesh" cut from their back. Such scenes, along with repeated piercing motifs and flash photography, contributed to the accusations of glamorizing violence and peril on stage.
Fans of Holzinger might argue these elements are integral to the artistic statement she aims to make. Her previous works are well known for employing daring methods involving the body, including live tattoos and performances incorporating bodily fluids. The presentation of women's bodies—and the stories they tell—continues to be at the core of Holzinger’s choreography.
Sancta itself is inspired by Paul Hindemith's controversial 1920s opera Sancta Susanna, which tells the story of a nun struggling with her desires. Holzinger’s reimagining brings the character’s internal conflicts to the fore with shocking imagery, including naked roller-skaters and depictions of religious iconography manipulated for explicit narratives, challenging the audience's perceptions of both faith and femininity.
Discussion around this opera has not only attracted attention for its audacity and narrative but also for the feminist lens through which it is presented. Holzinger has expressed her intention to critique rather than ridicule religious institutions, seeking instead to explore the intersections between conservatism and the sexuality portrayed on stage. This thematic guide endeavours to confront viewers with the more complex relations between tradition and transgression.
“If you don't want to see it, don't come,” she stated emphatically, dismissing critics who found her work disrespectful. “It's about real and complex issues,” she added, asserting her position amid the pot-stirring press coverage.
Despite the mixed reactions, Holzinger's production has been commercially successful, with several performances sold out—the buzz generated only adding fuel to the intrigue. After being called out by bishops for her perceived mockery of holy practices during earlier performances, her determination to provoke discussion around such subjects only seems to intensify.
Interestingly, Sancta draws audiences willing to engage with art at its most extreme. Sancta has become more than just an opera; it is now cultural commentary, sparking debates on sexuality, consent, and the portrayal of women's bodies. With tickets for its remaining shows and upcoming performances at Berlin’s Volksbühne already sold out, it is evident Holzinger’s work has not only sparked controversy but also revived interest and engagement with the genre.
The visual aspect of the opera—its shock-inducing revelry—positively resonates with those seeking to break the fourth wall of traditional performances. Each act challenges them to not just observe but to physically and mentally engage with the spectacle. Performances of this nature push boundaries, and Sancta exemplifies how contemporary audiences can be forced to grapple with visceral realities depicted on stage.
Moving forward, as this production takes its bow to new audiences and continues to perform, the discourse it generates remains largely important. Discussions from audience members, critiques from religious bodies, and Holzinger’s own declarations all contribute to shaping the future of performance art—courageously blurring the lines between shock value and transformative art.
Will the future of opera embrace this new paradigm, or will the backlash win out as audiences recoil at the discomfort it incites? These questions loom large as Sancta continues to challenge norms, inviting audiences—willing or otherwise—into its unpredictable embrace.