Desire, Drama & High Notes

Opera’s Not as Innocent as You Think

Watch my TV show Operaluscious EP2

If you think opera is all powdered wigs, polite clapping, and people standing very still while singing beautifully—you’ve been lied to. Opera is about desire. Unfiltered. Obsessive. Sometimes reckless desire. It’s about what happens when longing gets ignored, when power meets jealousy, and when people who look refined decide they are absolutely willing to burn everything down for love, status, or revenge—all while hitting a high note that rattles your soul.

And honestly? When I started studying opera in college...that’s what made it irresistible. I realized that opera as I understood it on the surface level was beyond boring. It is not sweet; it is a sophisticated hot mess at times.

You’re used to seeing desire packaged neatly in modern media: quick scenes, obvious villains, clear heroes. Opera doesn’t do subtle in the way you expect. It does this slow-burn sort of tension, emotional extremes, and consequences that feel operatic because… well, they are. The characters may enter dressed in silk and diamonds, speaking in poetry, but underneath? They’re messy. Strategic. Vulnerable. Ruthless.

I think about the first time I learned the role of Dorabella from Mozart's "Cosi fan Tutte"... first of all, let's talk about how Mozart felt about women. He thought we were all conniving, fickle, and often unfaithful. Although Dorabella was an affectionate person, she was also naive and easily bribed (clearing my thought)—I mean swayed. She was fickle (some would say unfaithful), and dare I say impulsive.

Which brings us to one of opera’s most deliciously deceptive characters.

Opera singer, Bri Cooper as Princess Eboli

When I made my Carnegie Hall debut in the Weil Recital Hall, I performed an aria from Adriana Lecouvreur. The character, Princess Eboli, known as Princess de Bouillon, also known as The Princess Who Smiles—Then Destroys You. On the surface, she’s elegance personified. Royal. Reserved. Proper. The kind of woman who never raises her voice and never breaks posture. As a matter of fact, the first time I read through the libretto, I assumed she was just another background aristocrat floating through the story. I was wrong, very wrong.

The opera Adriana Lecouvreur was first performed in 1902 and inspired by the play of the same name. Adriana (an actress) is in love with Maurizio, who is also having an affair with Princess Eboli. When the princess finds out that Maurizio does not feel the same way, after building this romantic meeting up in her head. She is done and becomes driven by jealousy, wounded pride, and desire; When the princess realizes that he is in love with someone else (Adrianna), she doesn’t spiral publicly. She calculates. She waits. And then she strikes—quietly, efficiently, and fatally. Turn on your local news, and unfortunately this can be seen today, a representation of the most selfish part of humanity. No screaming. No dramatic confession. Just a bouquet of poisoned violets delivered with a smile. Opera doesn’t need to shout to show you how dangerous desire can be. It lets you watch it unfold—beautifully.

Here’s the thing: in 2026 this still hits; you recognize these characters because you’ve met them.

You’ve seen people who appear harmless but are playing a long game. You’ve watched desire turn competitive. You’ve felt the tension of wanting something you’re not supposed to want—or someone who might cost you everything. Opera just gives those feelings with music big enough to hold those feelings.

And that’s why opera continues to influence fashion, film, pop music, and culture at large. It understands something timeless: desire doesn’t disappear just because society asks you to behave.

This is why my tagline for Operaluscious and harbour for the arts is "where opera meets lifestyle," because opera Is a lifestyle, not a lecture

At Harbour for the Arts, I don’t believe opera belongs in a museum. It belongs at the table—with cocktails, conversation, and curiosity. Opera is luxury. Opera is storytelling. Opera is passion dressed in couture. It’s the original elevated experience—where music, drama, and desire collide.

So the next time someone tells you opera is boring, innocent, or “not for you,” just smile.

Because now you know the truth.

Opera has always been a little dangerous. And that’s exactly why you’re drawn to it.