On August 4, 1961, the yacht Christina glides into the small harbor of Epidaurus, in the eastern Peloponnese. Maria Callas and Aristotle Onassis arrive two days before the premiere of a production already hailed as the event of the summer. The newspapers confirm the anticipation. “Fever in Epidaurus, where Callas rehearses ‘Medea,’” writes Eleftheria on August 5, priming the public for “a rare artistic delight for audiences and a major artistic achievement for its creators.”
Callas comes to Epidaurus having already “revived,” to great acclaim, Luigi Cherubini’s long-neglected opera at the 1953 Florence May Festival. In Dallas, in 1958, she electrifies audiences in the same role under the direction of Alexis Minotis, with sets and costumes by Yannis Tsarouchis. These high points mark the beginning of her profound connection with “Medea” – one that many expect will reach its apex in the “sanctuary” of the ancient theater.
La Divina allows herself only a few hours of rest before requesting a costume fitting. She seeks comfort and freedom of movement. Tsarouchis, pencil in hand, records every remark. Kathimerini would later note that “the harmony of colors and forms captures both eye and heart at first glance,” affirming that the painter’s vision was not merely functional but distinctly artistic. The dress rehearsal begins at 8 in the evening. Callas appears in a dark blue patterned dress – calm, focused, and in striking form.
The premiere on August 6 fulfills every expectation. The ancient theater fills with 15,000 spectators, many having traveled from afar to witness “Medea” at the very site where the drama’s roots lie. Contemporary accounts speak of a “miracle,” of a performance bordering on ritual. The second performance, on August 13, surpasses even the first. Journalists estimate an audience of 17,500, while some 2,000 people reach the gates without securing a ticket. That “Medea” – of Callas, Minotis, Tsarouchis, and choreographer Maria Hors – has since entered the realm of 20th-century artistic myth. Who would dare measure themselves against it 65 years later, and in the very same space?
The Greek National Opera’s “Medea,” to be presented for one night only in Epidaurus on June 20, has already become the first major success of this year’s Athens Epidaurus Festival. Within 24 hours of ticket sales opening, more than 7,000 tickets were sold; less than a week later, nearly all 10,000 available seats had been claimed, leaving only a handful with restricted views. Prices – €200 for VIP seats – proved no deterrent; they underscored the sense that audiences were not merely purchasing a ticket, but seeking to be part of a historic occasion.
The new production revisits – and seeks to reconstruct – the legendary 1961 “Medea.” The Greek National Opera team – Panaghis Pagoulatos (stage direction), Lili Pezanou (sets), Tota Pritsa (costumes), and Christos Tziogkas (lighting) – has spent months studying surviving archival material, aiming not for simple replication but for a thoughtful recreation of an aesthetic that has never been surpassed.
In the title role, the Italian dramatic soprano Anna Pirozzi brings a voice already proven in “Medea” and fully attuned to its demands. She is joined by Jean-Francois Borras as Giasone (Jason), Tassis Christoyannis as Creonte (Creon), Alisa Kolosova as Neris, and Danae Kontora as Glauce.
Kathimerini went behind the scenes, visiting the GNO workshops where the production’s historical sets and costumes are being crafted, and spoke with the team preparing to return the opera to the ancient theater.
Desire and destiny
“The ancient theater of Epidaurus holds a precious place in my heart and mind, both because of my work as a composer and my long experience as a spectator of ancient drama,” says GNO artistic director Giorgos Koumendakis. He is referring to the decision to stage opera at Epidaurus – an idea that, as he recalls, had quietly accompanied him for years. It had taken root as early as 2017, not as an administrative or programming objective, but as something deeply personal.
‘Interpretation has evolved – even if Callas herself was, in many ways, strikingly modern. I remain deeply inspired by her vision, but I also hope to contribute a small piece of history of my own’
The desire was there, but its realization was far from straightforward. Behind the vision lay considerable artistic risk – and an even greater financial one. “The budget for such a large-scale production in an open-air theater of this size, away from our base, can reach staggering levels, especially when one considers that nearly 400 people – staff and collaborators – must travel to and stay in Epidaurus for several days,” Koumendakis explains.
When it was announced that the Herod Atticus Theater would close for restoration, however, Epidaurus emerged as the “first and indisputable choice.” It was as if circumstances themselves had cleared the path. “Given that the thematic axis of the 2025-26 season is the dialogue between the opera’s historical past and its ambitious future, the ‘Medea’ of Minotis and Tsarouchis – in which Callas once starred – became the obvious choice,” he adds.
Despite the scale of the challenge, Koumendakis conveys a quiet confidence grounded in sustained work and hard-won experience. The enrichment of the GNO Archive with significant collections – those of Dimitris Pyromallis, Nikos Petsalis-Diomidis, Polyvios Marchand, and Kleisthenis Daskalakos – has provided a solid foundation, while the insights gained from the major 2023 tribute to Callas have further strengthened the effort. With this in mind, he concludes, “we feel that – despite the absence of any filmed record of the 1961 production – we are in a position to deliver a reconstruction of the highest level.”
The risk of reconstruction
Pagoulatos has assumed the formidable task of reconstructing the direction of a production that, as he puts it, “is etched in the collective memory.” “The greatest risk I took was accepting Giorgos Koumendakis’ proposal,” he says of the ambitious undertaking. “The responsibility is immense – artistic, institutional, financial, technical – and it is shared by the entire creative team: choreographers, set designers, costume designers, lighting designers. It is a project that demands absolute precision, and at the same time, courage.”
Among the team’s key sources are Minotis’ directing notebooks, used in conjunction with the archive of the National Bank of Greece Cultural Foundation. Yet these materials cover only selected scenes and often function more as preparatory notes for different stagings of the work. “The photographic material provides visual clues that align with the libretto,” Pagoulatos explains, “but there are significant gaps that must be filled with consistency, so as to preserve the coherence of the production without introducing foreign elements.”
Does such a process constrain him creatively? “There is freedom – but within strict parameters,” he replies. “Even when a revival is mounted by the original director, the ‘living material’ inevitably changes: The performers, their voices, their personalities, their experiences – all of these transform the work. The same applies to the costumes in this new “Medea,” which are adapted to today’s performers while remaining faithful to Tsarouchis’ visual language. The aim is for the 2026 audience to perceive the archaic costume as a symbol of its time, not as something rigid or museum-like.”
The return of ‘Medea’ to ancient Epidaurus carries both the weight and the emotion of an encounter with a space “sacred in every sense,” as Pagoulatos emphasizes. The theater itself, the tragic myth – faithfully respected by the libretto and so precisely shaped by Cherubini’s music – create a singular set of conditions. To this are added the figures who defined the production’s legacy: Minotis, for whom “tragedy was second nature”; Tsarouchis, with his modern reading of ancient iconography; and choreographer Maria Hors, “so deeply attuned to the ancient spirit.” And, inevitably, Callas – “the singular phenomenon of the singing actress” – who remains the ultimate point of reference. “One can enter this space only with respect,” he concludes, “with knowledge and inspiration, but also with the awareness that one is attempting to ‘restore’ a monumental work – recreating what has been lost.”
And if Minotis himself were in the audience? “I would want him to see a performance that would not preoccupy him with questions of fidelity or deviation,” Pagoulatos says. “Not something he would find dated or irreverent, but something contemporary and convincing – a ‘Medea’ that can stand alongside his own, not as a replica, but as a living continuation.”
Pritsa, head of the GNO costume department, has been preparing for this production for a long time. “A contemporary revival presents significant challenges,” she notes. “Today’s performers have very different body types from those of the past, which makes it difficult to reproduce the original patterns faithfully. At the same time, sourcing equivalent fabrics is no easy task, as the local market no longer offers materials with the same properties or quality. Even achieving the right colors proved complex. It is important to understand that this is not reproduction in the strict sense of absolute fidelity, but rather a process of reinterpretation. To the contemporary viewer, the cloak or short chiton may appear unfamiliar, even awkward – something that does not belong to our time. But here costume does not simply depict an era; it preserves memory. This work does not belong to any one individual. It belongs to time – and to all those who have served it with their hands and their minds.”
Passion of a Neapolitan
By all accounts, Pirozzi – one of the leading sopranos of our time – embraces challenges with wholehearted intensity, true to her Neapolitan roots. We first heard her at the GNO during the centenary celebrations of Callas’ birth, where she delivered an outstanding “Medea”: technically assured, dramatically compelling, and deeply passionate. “Medea is a demanding psychological journey,” she reflects. “I have to complete the role while preserving both my vocal and mental health. It is easy to be swept away by the ‘dark soul’ of this woman – a truly complex and ambiguous figure.”
On June 20, she will sing in the open-air ancient theater, at the very spot where Callas once stood. What does that mean to her? “It is a tremendous honor, both because of the history of the space and because she performed the opera there,” Pirozzi says. “My initial concern was the acoustics. In open-air venues, it is crucial to have an acoustic response that supports the vocal demands of the role. Fortunately, that concern disappeared when I visited Epidaurus this summer. I sang a few phrases at the center of the theater – the experience was extraordinary.”
Ultimately, Pirozzi does not position herself against tradition but turns inward, testing her own limits. She speaks of a balance between continuity and renewal. Her gaze turns toward Callas – not in imitation, but in dialogue. “I don’t want simply to sing; I want to interpret, to act through the sung word. At the same time, I hope to write a new chapter. We are in the 21st century, after all, and interpretation has evolved – even if Callas herself was, in many ways, strikingly modern. I remain deeply inspired by her vision, but I also hope to contribute a small piece of history of my own: Anna Pirozzi’s ‘Medea’ – my ‘Medea’ for the 21st century.”