The Curse of Ambition: What Kennedy Center’s Macbeth Reveals About Power’s True Price
The first thing you notice is the sweat. Not the audience’s — though we sit rapt in the Kennedy Center’s grand opera house — but the conductor’s. Evan Rogister’s long hair catches the light as he moves with an almost supernatural intensity, commanding Verdi’s score like a sorcerer summoning spirits. It’s November 21st, 2024, and Washington National Opera’s Macbeth has barely begun its dark descent into ambition and madness, but already the air crackles with something electric.
I first encountered Macbeth in Mrs. Rogalski’s British Literature class, where Shakespeare’s words danced off the page and Polanski’s 1971 film adaptation burned images into my teenage mind that I’ve never quite shaken. “What’s done cannot be undone,” Lady Macbeth would later lament, and how right she was — once you truly see Macbeth, you cannot unsee it. Like the ghost light left burning in empty theaters, it haunts you.
Hours before the performance, Aaryaman and I found ourselves wandering the Kennedy Center’s marble expanses. At 6 PM, the building holds a different kind of magic — the anticipatory hush before a storm of artistry. Tour groups drift through the Hall of Nations, their whispers echoing off the flags. This is where art lives and breathes, where the membrane between the mundane and the transcendent grows thin enough to touch.
The evening’s first spell comes from an unexpected quarter. In a pre-performance that feels less like an opening act and more like a secret shared among friends, James Fernando’s trio takes the stage. Fernando, just 29, approaches the piano like he’s greeting an old friend who happens to hold the secrets of the universe. His fingers dance across the keys, building bridges between classical precision and jazz’s wild heart. Sam’s bass thrums like a heartbeat beneath it all, while KYON on drums becomes joy personified. KYON’s smile — infectious, irrepressible — spreads through the audience like a benevolent contagion.
After the performance, we make our way to enter the world of Macbeth. As we enter the Opera House at the Kennedy Center, we find ourselves spellbound by the grandiosity of the auditorium. Bright red seats and a chandelier so beautiful that one couldn’t help but feel amazed by it.
We take our seats and soon, the lights dim. We hear the crash of thunder. We have now been transported to the lands of Scotland.
The opera begins, and Verdi’s adaptation soars with themes that feel eerily contemporary: political corruption, tyrannical rule, the price of unchecked ambition. The composer wrote this during Italy’s independence movement, but watching it now, in our own tumultuous times, every note resonates with fresh urgency.
Étienne Dupuis embodies Macbeth with a baritone that carries both power and vulnerability — the voice of a man ascending to greatness and descending into madness in the same breath. His performance reminds us that tyrants aren’t born but made, choice by terrible choice. When he confronts Banquo’s ghost, Dupuis makes us believe in specters through voice alone.
But it’s Ewa Płonka’s Lady Macbeth who steals not just scenes but souls. Her soprano cuts through the theater like a blade made of moonlight, especially in the famous sleepwalking scene. Her voice carries such conviction that audience members unconsciously check their own hands. Płonka doesn’t just perform the role; she inhabits it with a frightening totality, her voice moving from seductive power to haunted madness with devastating precision.
Soloman Howard’s Banquo brings gravitas and warmth to a character who serves as the moral compass in a world spinning off its axis. His bass resonates with such depth that when he appears as a ghost, the air itself seems to thicken with supernatural weight. Howard makes us feel the loss of goodness in this world of treachery, making Banquo’s murder feel like the death of conscience itself.
The production design transforms the stage into a psychological landscape where shadows have weight and every corner holds a potential betrayal. It’s Ozark meets Shakespeare meets grand opera, and somehow it all works. When Kang Wang as Macduff takes center stage for his aria in Act Four, the audience collectively holds its breath. His tenor voice carries such raw emotion that when he finishes, the theater erupts in an explosion of approval that feels less like typical opera house appreciation and more like a primal recognition of shared humanity.
The performances soar under the masterful direction of Brenna Corner, whose intimate knowledge of Shakespeare (having studied in England and performed Lady Macbeth herself) brings fresh insight to this production. Her vision transforms the witch chorus into something more haunting — spirits of those lost in Macbeth’s wars, their conjured manifestations serving as mirrors to his darkest ambitions. This interpretation, brought to life through Erhard Rom’s abstract scenic design and AJ Guban’s atmospheric lighting, creates a psychological landscape where the supernatural and the human blur together.
The creative team’s attention to detail extends to every aspect: Kathleen Geldard’s additional costume design places the action in an abstracted version of Verdi’s own mid-19th century, while S. Katy Tucker’s projections and fight master Casey Kaleba’s staging bring visceral energy to the production. Under the guidance of chorus master Steven Gathman and intimacy coordinator Lorraine Slone, every moment feels both grand and painfully intimate.
As lies stack upon lies in the opera’s final acts, watching Macbeth’s desperate attempts to maintain control, one can’t help but wonder: at what point do you stop? When does ambition cross the line from driving force to destructive obsession? The production offers no easy answers, but then again, neither does life.
This staging reminds us why Macbeth’s themes of self-fulfilling prophecies cut so deep. We watch a man architect his own downfall by trying to force destiny’s hand. The witches’ predictions work like a virus in Macbeth’s mind, but they’re really just a mirror reflecting his own darkest impulses back at him. It’s a warning that feels particularly pointed in an age of algorithmic prophecies and echo chambers: our beliefs about our fate can shape that fate, for better or worse.
For those who’ve never attended an opera, let this Macbeth be your gateway drug. Forget any preconceptions about opera being stuffy or inaccessible. This production grabs you by the throat from the first note and doesn’t let go. The language may be Italian (with helpful English subtitles), but the emotions are universal. You don’t need to know your arias from your elbow to feel the power of Verdi’s score or the punch of Shakespeare’s story.
If you can’t catch Macbeth, the Kennedy Center’s 2024–2025 season offers plenty of other opportunities to experience the magic of opera. December brings an exciting new adaptation of Jungle Book, where composer Kamala Sankaram blends Indian classical traditions with Western operatic elements. Working with librettist Kelley Rourke, Sankaram reimagines Mowgli as a young female refugee, creating a timely meditation on acceptance and community. The season continues with innovations like The (R)evolution of Steve Jobs in May 2025 — a contemporary opera that promises to be as transformative as its subject — and concludes with the beloved Porgy and Bess.
The Kennedy Center itself, with its sweeping halls and history-soaked walls, adds another layer to the evening. Early arrivals (and you should arrive early) can explore the building like it’s a character itself. This temple to the performing arts stands as a testament to JFK’s belief that the arts are not a luxury but a necessity — a light against the darkness, if you will.
THIS COUNTRY CANNOT AFFORD TO BE MATERIALLY RICH AND SPIRITUALLY POOR.
TO FURTHER THE APPRECIATION OF CULTURE AMONG ALL THE PEOPLE, TO INCREASE RESPECT FOR THE CREATIVE INDIVIDUAL, TO WIDEN PARTICIPATION BY ALL THE PROCESSES AND FULFILLMENTS OF ART — THIS IS ONE OF THE FASCINATING CHALLENGES OF THESE DAYS.
JOHN FITZGERALD KENNEDY
If you’ve been waiting for an excuse to experience opera at the Kennedy Center, consider this your engraved invitation. In an age of endless streaming and digital distractions, there’s something revolutionary about sitting in a darkened theater with hundreds of strangers, experiencing art that’s simultaneously centuries old and startlingly current. Opera isn’t just alive; it’s vital, visceral, and volatile.
The ghost light in theaters serves a practical purpose — preventing accidents in the dark — but theater folk will tell you it’s also there to appease the spirits of the house. After this production of Macbeth, I’m inclined to believe them. Some stories are more than stories; they’re eternally burning lights, illuminating the darkest corners of human nature. This production keeps that light burning bright, even as it draws us deep into the shadows.
The Kennedy Center doesn’t just house performances; it houses possibilities. As you leave the opera house, you might find yourself changed in subtle ways. Perhaps you’ll hear music differently, or notice how ambition plays out in your own life, or simply feel more alive to the power of live performance. That’s the real magic of nights like these — they remind us why we need art in the first place: to show us who we are, who we might become, and sometimes, who we must never allow ourselves to be.
ABOUT THE WASHINGTON NATIONAL OPERA
The Washington National Opera (WNO) is an opera company that performs at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in Washington, DC. Learn more at Kennedy-Center.org/WNO.
Learn more about the 2024–2025 Season
OCT. 25-NOV. 4, 2024
FidelioОСТ. 26, 2024
Gods & Mortals: A Celebration of WagnerNOV. 13–23, 2024
MacbethDEC. 13–15, 2024
Jungle BookDEC. 17, 2024
Marian Anderson Vocal Award Recital: Key mon MurrahJAN. 18, 2025
American Opera Initiative: Three One Act OperasMAY 2–10, 2025
The (R)evolution of Steve JobsMAY 3, 2025
American RhapsodyMAY 23–31, 2025
Porgy and Bess
For more information, visit Kennedy-Center.org/WNO.
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Juan David Campolargo and Aaryaman Patel are the creators of The UIUC Talkshow, a platform that brings you captivating conversations, compelling stories, and unique experiences with some of the most intriguing thinkers, artists, scientists, entrepreneurs, and storytellers. Whether you’re looking to cover an event, feature a speaker, or explore fresh ideas, reach out to us for more details.