
NEW YORK — Kaija Saariaho’s Innocence — an unflinching operatic dissection of school-shooter trauma — was bound to hit deep levels of identification at its April 6 Metropolitan Opera opening. Some audience members left in tears. The post-concert elevator rides from the balcony had deep-in-thought quiet. After all, the opera ends with a child ghost telling her mother to finally let go. It was a tough evening for other reasons: The Met hasn’t fully wrapped its resources around an opera full of real people but presented the sort of dream-like narrative that’s been Saariaho’s hallmark.
Acclaimed at its 2021 Aix-en-Provence premiere, Innocence is considered the most ambitious of the six operas by the beloved Saariaho (1952-2023). Few operas depict subjects of such current concern to the general population. The libretto by novelist Sofi Oksanen was sure to bring honesty and respect to the trauma of losing a child — not at the hands of a stranger, but someone familiar. Set 10 years after the incident — at a wedding celebration laden with PTSD — the now-imprisoned shooter is revealed not as an aberration. He had partners in crime who pulled out at the last minute. Life goes on — or does so fitfully in a world where nobody is their best self. As operas go, this one is plot heavy, but with emotional collisions that are quieter than usual. The narrative style — shifting in and out of memory, with ghostly children — is rich but amorphous in Saariaho’s waking-dream manner.

Yet for all of its built-in immediacy, Innocence felt remote at the Met compared to the live stream of the same Simon Stone production at Aix. Initial scenes played like a slow-moving ritual (kabuki-influenced music and all), as if characters are sleepwalking through present reality, coming and going with a vague sense of consequence. During the slow build of this intermissionless opera (and, yes, some presumably puzzled audience members made an early exit), the piece was much more communicative by the end. But it’s a fragile flower that doesn’t bloom amid the objectivity that comes with viewing from afar.
Distance was what made the difference here vs. the Aix live stream. In the 3,800-seat Met auditorium, the perpetually revolving, two-tiered Chloe Lamford set (representing homes, schools, and party venues in modern-day Helsinki) was literally remote, roughly 30 feet from the lip on the stage. With the singers inside these spaces, watching the opera was like peering into a far-off aquarium. Conductor Susanna Mälkki had to bridge a psychological distance from the stage action, while singers had projection and diction challenges. Thus, the audience couldn’t help having comprehension challenges, even with a surtitle screen in addition to the Met titles.
Always the master of layered textures, Saariaho is at her most atonal in this score, allowing her a purposeful freedom to fashion vocal lines dictated by text. Her delicately colored instrumental effects are more hypnotic than usual — and dense. In the first five minutes of the opera, I heard 17 motifs amid a rumbling piano, searching bassoon solos, trilling wind instruments, and a piercing piccolo. Backstage chorus was intermittently heard. Any given moment is a concerto for orchestra and voices — with the contemplative manner one associates with Asian music. Solo cries suggest Arab influences. Sprechtstimme vocal lines were employed for one character — a teacher — who lies outside the family systems in the opera.

That role was taken by the longtime modern-music advocate Lucy Shelton, who didn’t project strongly enough. The only consistent vocal presence was Joyce DiDonato — a strong compass in this ensemble piece — as a traumatized mother and waitress. Other roles weren’t vocal opportunities as much as they were rhetorical opportunities. There was no lack of notable names — Kathleen Kim, Miles Mykkanen, Rod Gilfry, Stephen Milling, and actress Vilma Jää — and my guess is that performances will be more assured later in the run (in repertory through April 29).
But as it is, Innocence is the kind of opera the public maybe doesn’t know that it needs. With a stronger presentation in the theater, the opera, its subject, and its thought-provoking manner can speak directly to our times.

























