The Comet/Poppea Fuses Ancient Rome and Jazz-Age New York in a Bold Operatic Experiment
- Jun 19
- 3 min read
19 June 2025

In a daring new production at Lincoln Center, The Comet/Poppea combines Monteverdi’s baroque classic L’incoronazione di Poppea with George E. Lewis’s Pulitzer-finalist chamber opera The Comet, creating a provocative dialogue between Nero’s Rome and 1920s New York. Directed by Yuval Sharon, this hybrid opera premiered June 18 as part of the Summer for the City festival and runs for five performances in the David Koch Theater.
Presented on a rotating stage that completes a full turn every two minutes and eight seconds, the production divides the audience of 380 into two sections facing one of two distinct environments. On one side is ancient Rome, where Nero exiles his wife Ottavia to crown Poppea empress.
On the other is Jazz-Age Manhattan, where The Comet follows Jim (Davóne Tines), a Black working-class man, and Julia (Kiera Duffy), a white society woman, who believe they’re the only survivors of a comet impact. Their hopes for a shared life crash when they discover segregation persists even in apocalyptic circumstances. This stark contrast underscores an ongoing critique of white supremacy as dystopian both past and present
Sharon emphasizes that the revolving stage creates an "unstable ride," where each audience member's experience may differ significantly depending on their seating orientation. This intentional fragmentation invites spectators to engage actively, filling in gaps with imagination and interpretation
Visually, the production is stunning. Mimi Lien’s two-sided set juxtaposes a tiered marble bath on the Roman side with an Art-Deco lounge evoking New York’s Rainbow Room. John Torres's lighting highlights the period contrast, from imperial grandeur to sleek Jazz-Age glamour. The staging intensifies thematic weight: scenes in the elegant lounge include Jim and Julia discovering corpse-like figures, symbols of shattered innocence and societal failure.
The vision took years to realize. Sharon and countertenor Anthony Roth Costanzo who plays Nero and Julia’s father met in 2018 to conceive the combined narrative. However, the pandemic and shifting production support delayed progress. Still, the production first appeared in Los Angeles and Philadelphia before its New York premiere.
George E. Lewis’s composition, paired with Douglas Kearney’s libretto (based on W.E.B. Du Bois’s 1920 story), weaves dissonant harmonies and jazz with baroque motifs. Lewis notes that this blend spotlights how white supremacy remains an active dystopia. Musically, the opera merges eras without erasing their tensions, prompting audiences to confront both ancient authoritarianism and modern racial inequality.
Performers bring visceral intensity. Davóne Tines commands the stage as Jim, portraying both hope and disillusionment, while Costanzo embodies both imperial charisma and paternal authority. Critics, including those at LA Times and Hyperallergic, have lauded the production’s emotional depth and staging innovation, calling it “exceptional” and “a burst of imagination” in a traditionally rigid art form.
Part of the broader Run AMOC* festival, which includes twelve operas with ten New York premieres, The Comet/Poppea exemplifies Lincoln Center’s reinvigorated commitment to experimental classical programming post-pandemic. It’s also being streamed live, ensuring that those outside the city can experience the production.
By staging Nero’s betrayal and Jim and Julia’s disillusionment side by side, The Comet/Poppea reveals disturbing parallels: both settings wrestle with ambition, power, and exclusion. The revolving stage serves as a powerful metaphor for shifting perspectives, how history, culture, and identity turn in unexpected ways.
Ultimately, this bold merging of narratives pushes the boundaries of opera. It challenges audiences to interrogate the legacy of power, privilege, and prejudice through immersive storytelling. As the wheel turns, it calls viewers to reconsider history’s echo in the present and to listen closely to what the silence between the scenes says about justice and human longing.



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