What is so powerful about Greek mythology is that its worldly themes have survived a myriad of generations. What was a re-telling of the human condition, meant to entertain and move its receivers, is now a symbol of core human emotions never changing despite a gap of thousands of years. The myths depict every aspect of our emotional range, what we are capable of and what we desire, and with Ariadne auf Naxos we tap into the powerful effects of love and death.

Richard Strauss’ opera lends its material from different genres and is a mad version of the classic myth and its grave essence with a play-within-a-play structure, mixing farce and tragedy, light and darkness. Split in two, the prologue shows us the brains behind a tragic opera, Ariadne auf Naxos, to be performed for a rich patron and showcase the talent of the gifted, but troubled young composer. However the patron decides to combine the grave opera with a saucy comedy troupe, and chaos breaks loose in the dressing room until the opera starts. Ariadne auf Naxos is then interrupted by the troupe, trying to put their light-hearted touch to the tragedy and thereby devising a performance not in line with the composer’s vision, but somehow still true to the heart of humanity.

Ariadne auf Naxos is as puzzling as the synopsis and having the prologue written as an amendment and added in later on is an obstacle for the smoothness and clarity of the performance, which seems a bit muddled at times. The prologue shows great potential, especially with Ruxandra Donose’s anxious and eccentric composer, whose notes soar and thunder as she curses the loss of perfectionism and art’s sublime potential. The differences in class and style between the two companies are strongly initiated by the brilliant casting of performers, and especially Jane Archibald’s flamboyant Zerbinetta is a growing marvel throughout the performance. However the blocking feels a bit stiff as the stage is busy but seemingly without purpose – performers seem to linger for longer than necessary and as Strauss has left out a chorus the crowd seems slightly fidgety and stuck at times.

The opera itself is a marvel musically and Karita Mattila’s lyrical soprano pierces the heart as she sings out hers in Ariadne’s arias, depicting raw and touching emotion. It is clumsily interrupted by the comedy troupe – farcical and funny, it is a fresh breath of air transforming the performance into something broader than human tragedy. Zerbinetta’s elaboration on the fall of women when loving a man is honest, funny and something a modern female audience (as well as the original one I reckon) can relate to in the most reassuring way. The two women, who before seemed so apart in class and appearance, unite on a deeper level and both explore what love really is, what it does to us, and how we move on when crushed by it. Culminating in Ariadne’s meeting with the god Bacchus, the play-within-a-play suddenly disappears and we are left with the bared opera as it was intended – the tragedy of a woman reversed into something higher, an accept of life’s trials and storms and another destiny awaiting with the arrival of a new love (sung tenderly by Roberto Saccà). Though it feels messy shifting in and out of farce and the heightened performance of the myth, Strauss intended the opera to be a rivalry of the two sides of the arts – comedy and tragedy, light and dark, and as intended it does confuse and awaken its audience.

Because of the prologue not originally intended for the piece it does feel slightly out of place, and we don’t get a ‘finished’ experience of the whole piece – we never return to the artists and we never know whether they’ve learnt from the experience or not. Christof Loy’s direction has humour and soul to it, but Herbert Murauer’s design disappoints slightly, not because it lacks grandness – the stage moves up in the ceiling and reveals an impressive lower floor – but because its chaos and inconsistency in costume style adds to the confusion of the opera. It is probably intended – and fits Strauss’ idea – but to the eye it clashes. That said the music of Ariadne auf Naxos dances through the evening led by Antonio Pappano and is a delight for the heart and ears. Lyrically it’s near perfection, and being so majestically sung your ears will thank you for going.

Ariadne auf Naxos is playing at the Royal Opera House until 13 July. For more information and tickets, see the Royal Opera House website.