Opera Galas Are Overrated (There, I Said It)


I know this is going to annoy some people. Possibly quite a lot of people. But here goes: opera galas are overrated, and the industry’s reliance on them is a problem.

Before you close this tab, hear me out. I’m not saying they should be abolished. I’m saying we need to be honest about what they are and what they aren’t.

What a Gala Actually Is

An opera gala is essentially a greatest-hits concert. A string of arias, duets, and maybe the odd chorus number, pulled from various operas, performed in concert dress (or sometimes in costume), with an orchestra. They’re usually fundraisers or season openers. They attract sponsors. They look great in the society pages.

Opera Australia does several each year. So does Victorian Opera. They sell well. The audience dresses up, has champagne at interval, and goes home humming “Nessun Dorma.”

And that, right there, is the problem.

The Greatest Hits Trap

Galas reinforce the idea that opera is a collection of famous tunes rather than a dramatic art form. When you rip “Un bel dì” out of Madama Butterfly and perform it between a Rossini overture and “La donna è mobile,” you strip away everything that makes it devastating — the context, the character, the dramatic arc that makes Butterfly’s hope so painful.

It’s like showing someone the car chase from Bullitt and calling it cinema. Yes, it’s thrilling in isolation. But it’s not the thing. It’s a fragment of the thing.

I worry that galas create opera fans who think they love opera but actually love arias. These are not the same thing. The person who’s been to five galas and zero full productions hasn’t experienced opera. They’ve experienced a playlist.

The Programming Problem

Here’s where it gets more insidious. Galas are easy to program and relatively cheap to produce. No sets. Minimal rehearsal. A few star singers, a decent orchestra, a well-known conductor, done. Compare that to mounting a full production with sets, costumes, lighting, blocking, weeks of rehearsal, and the cost difference is enormous.

When companies are under financial pressure — and let’s be honest, every Australian opera company is perpetually under financial pressure — galas are tempting. They fill seats without the risk of an adventurous new production that might not sell. Over time, this creates a feedback loop: audiences get used to galas, companies program more galas, and the full-length works that are the art form get squeezed out.

I’ve spoken to artistic directors (off the record) who’ve admitted that their boards pressure them to include more galas because the revenue is more predictable. That’s understandable from a business perspective, but it’s corrosive to the art form.

The Audience Development Myth

“But Margot,” I hear you say, “galas are a gateway! They bring in new audiences who then go on to see full productions!”

Do they, though? I’ve seen very little evidence of this pipeline actually working. The gala audience tends to stay the gala audience. They like the event — the dressing up, the champagne, the social occasion. A three-and-a-half-hour Don Carlo with one interval and a complicated plot about the Spanish Inquisition is a very different proposition.

I’m not blaming these audience members. If all you’ve ever been offered is the highlight reel, why would you assume the full experience is for you?

What I’d Rather See

Instead of galas, I’d love to see companies invest in shorter, more accessible full productions. There are brilliant one-act operas — Puccini’s Gianni Schicchi, Ravel’s L’heure espagnole, Menotti’s The Telephone — that run 45 minutes to an hour, tell a complete story, and give audiences the actual experience of opera as drama.

Pair two short operas together and you’ve got an evening. You’ve spent more than a gala on production costs, sure, but you’ve given your audience something real. Something that might actually convert them into opera lovers, not just aria fans.

I’d also love to see more “opera in concert” performances of full works — no sets, minimal staging, but the complete score and dramatic arc intact. These are cheaper than full productions and offer something a gala never can: the experience of a story unfolding through music.

I Know, I Know

Look, I’ve been to galas that were genuinely thrilling. A great singer performing a great aria is a great singer performing a great aria, context or no context. When Jessica Pratt floats a perfect high E-flat, I don’t care if she’s in full costume or standing in front of a music stand. It’s extraordinary.

But I want more for our art form than extraordinary moments. I want extraordinary experiences. And that means full operas, fully staged, with all the messy, glorious, sometimes challenging drama that entails.

Galas are the dessert cart. I want the whole meal.