One War – Many Voices

History is said to be written by the victors, and wars are usually told from the perspective of those who wage them: generals, soldiers, and those in power. The focus is invariably on military strategies, battles, and political decisions. What is often lost from view, however, are the people whose lives are irrevocably changed by war. Their fears, losses, and hopes are often given less space in official historical accounts than the major events themselves. Yet it is precisely these personal experiences that make the full scale of war emotionally tangible, beyond statistics and the shifting lines of the front – particularly the experiences of women and children. (Review of the performance attended on 16 October 2026 in Warsaw)

 

Women experience war in many different ways. They fight on the front lines, care for the wounded, resist the enemy, or are forced to flee their homeland. They lose loved ones, try to bring their children to safety, and hold their families together as everything familiar around them falls apart. Their stories speak of loss and helplessness, but also of seemingly unbreakable courage, resilience, and an unwavering determination to preserve life – even at the cost of their own well-being. And yet, their experiences are usually relegated to the margins of the established narratives of war.

Svetlana Alexievich, the Belarusian Nobel laureate in Literature, has created a powerful work that challenges this collective forgetting. The Unwomanly Face of War brings together the memories of Soviet women who served as soldiers, resistance fighters, or nurses during the Second World War. In what she calls her “novel in voices,” Alexievich allows the women to tell their own stories, recounting experiences that have found little place in official accounts of the war. They speak of the cruelty and loss they witnessed and of the difficult task of carrying on with their lives after the fighting ended. These individual memories form a multifaceted picture of war that defies conventional notions of heroism and military glory.

In Russia’s war against Ukraine, too, it is women in particular who suffer the consequences of violence, carry the responsibility, and fight for their families’ survival under almost unimaginable circumstances. Their stories are equally part of the history of this war and must not disappear behind images of shifting front lines, weapons deliveries, and political power struggles. It is these stories that make the suffering – as well as the courage – of these people tangible to us outsiders.

 

The Mothers of Kherson: A Journey Against Forgetting

This is precisely where The Mothers of Kherson, an opera by Ukrainian composer Maxim Kolomiiets, begins. Like Alexievich’s book, the opera directs our attention to the female perspective on war and to the civilian trauma that all too often vanishes behind the grand narratives of politics and military conflict. War may have no female face, and yet there are countless stories told from women’s perspectives that must be heard. The Mothers of Kherson is one of them.

The opera focuses on a simple yet profoundly human tragedy: mothers and grandmothers who travel thousands of miles through war zones and enemy-occupied territories to bring back their children, who have been abducted by Russian occupying forces. Based on real events, the story follows three women from Kherson whose daughters have been taken to Crimea, which is under Russian control. What is geographically a relatively short distance becomes, under the conditions of war, a journey of more than 2,500 miles across several countries.

Both works break with the traditional, male-dominated narrative of war, placing the female perspective and civilian trauma at the centre instead. While Alexievich gathers memories of a war that has passed, The Mothers of Kherson turns its gaze towards a present in which the wounds are still open. The fact that the war in Ukraine is still raging lends the opera an additional layer of profound significance.

George Brant’s libretto is inspired by real events and the experiences of the women affected, but it is not a verbatim documentary record of individual interviews. Instead, it condenses different experiences into a dramatic narrative. This is precisely where music theatre demonstrates its ability to bring individual destinies to life on stage while drawing attention to a crime that extends far beyond the stories of individual families.

 

 

Poland as a Place of Remembrance and Responsibility

The fact that this opera receives its fully staged world premiere in Warsaw is, in itself, an expression of extraordinary courage. Since the beginning of Russia’s full-scale invasion in February 2022, Poland has been an important supporter of Ukraine. The country’s geographical proximity to the war, its reception of Ukrainian refugees, and the political significance of an independent Ukraine give the subject particular relevance here.

Polish Prime Minister Donald Tusk has repeatedly stressed that Poland’s security is closely linked to Ukraine’s sovereignty. An independent Ukraine, he has argued, is a prerequisite for a secure Poland and a secure Europe. The opera’s world premiere offers a cultural expression of this position: support means more than political declarations or financial assistance. It also means ensuring that the individual suffering of those affected remains visible, that their experiences are remembered time and again, and that the crimes committed against them continue to be condemned.

Boris Kudlička, who has served as General Director of the Polish National Opera since the 2025/26 season, represents an institution that refuses to turn away from the realities of the present. The co-production with the Metropolitan Opera in New York, together with the participation of conductor Keri-Lynn Wilson, co-founder of the Ukrainian Freedom Orchestra, gives this commitment an exceptionally important international dimension.

At a time when support for Ukraine is increasingly becoming the subject of social and political disputes in other European countries, this evening in Warsaw demonstrates the power such an artistic stance can have. Opera is no substitute for political action. But it can prevent the world from becoming accustomed to suffering.

 

 

Scorched Earth and Shattered Landscapes

 

Director Barbara Wysocka stages the action inside a concrete structure resembling an air-raid shelter, perhaps an abandoned underground car park—a skeleton of pillars held together only precariously. Everything feels bleak and apocalyptic. The setting is as minimalist as it is brutalist, and throughout the journey images of devastated and deserted landscapes repeatedly appear: ghost villages in Ukraine, vast stretches of grey, desolate countryside.

Barbara Hanicka’s set design becomes a metaphor for a world whose familiar order has been shattered. The architecture feels cold and hostile; it offers shelter only sporadically while simultaneously conveying the sensation of being trapped inside a ruin. The video projections expand this space to include the landscapes through which the women must travel. The result is an interplay between an almost timeless place of menace and the concrete locations of the war.

One particularly moving moment in the production takes place aboard an old bus carrying the women thousands of miles. As the vehicle splits in half, it reveals a cross-section of its female passengers, exposing their many tragic destinies, their despair, but also their determination and, not least, a glimmer of hope.

 

 

A Diverse Musical Language with a Powerful Impact

 

For The Mothers of Kherson, Ukrainian composer Maxim Kolomiiets, whose work usually centres on contemporary and experimental music, chooses a remarkably accessible and emotional musical language, one that is almost cinematic.

The opera does not primarily aspire to be avant-garde or to establish a new musical style. Rather, its aim is to stir the audience emotionally, create a sense of intimacy, and evoke both the madness of war and the hardships of the journey. This is also one of its strengths: contemporary music can sometimes alienate audiences unfamiliar with the genre, whereas this work establishes a connection between listeners and its subject from the very first hearing—not merely through the plot, but above all through its emotional and musical dimension.

From the opening bars, the music is permeated by the sounds of drones, bomb impacts, and ominous rumbling. War is not presented as some distant, abstract political event, but as an immediate, audible threat that reaches the body itself. The score works with harsh, densely layered sound clusters and a clear, emotionally compelling dramatic structure. In between, lyrical and beautiful passages emerge, evoking Ukrainian folk songs.

Kolomiiets relies on the contrast between harshness and tenderness, between the noise of destruction and the longing for what is familiar and recognisable, for a sense of security and belonging. The opera demonstrates just how diverse the stylistic means of contemporary music can be when responding to the present. It seeks to illustrate reality without overly romanticising it. Music need not be atonal or enigmatic to convey complex experiences. Its strength lies precisely in opening a door for the audience without trivialising the brutality of what is taking place.

 

 

George Brant: Language Without a Protective Layer

 

The same directness characterises the work of American librettist George Brant. At times, one might miss a more enigmatic, perhaps even poetic, use of language in The Mothers of Kherson. Here, everything is expressed with striking clarity. The dialogue feels everyday, drawn from real life, and largely free of artifice. The characters speak because they must act, hope, doubt, and survive.

Brant nevertheless understands the power of language and repeatedly crafts carefully chosen, moving verbal images that reflect the wide emotional range brought to life in the opera. Both the language and the action are firmly rooted in the present, creating another layer of immediacy and urgency.

The libretto largely dispenses with symbolic obfuscation. This very matter-of-factness can be deeply unsettling: bureaucratic obstacles, interrogations, and harassment at border crossings are presented with dispassionate clarity. The language is sobering precisely because these events may well have unfolded in much the same way.

 

 

Three Women, Three Fates, Three Voices

 

At the centre of the performance are the three women, whose voices carry through the journey. They are profoundly human characters, each with a distinct temperament and a different means of expression.

Izabela Matuła portrays Kateryna with a powerful voice rich in vibrato and an intensely emotional performance. Her determination is palpable, yet the character never loses her vulnerability. Matuła gives the mother’s struggle a physical presence that makes the inner pressure of the journey particularly tangible.

Kamila Dutkowska portrays Dasha with a rounded, assured voice. She conveys her character’s despair, providing a counterpoint to the determination that the women must repeatedly summon in order to carry on. Her singing leaves room for doubt and exhaustion, making her all the more human.

Małgorzata Walewska embodies Olha, the grandmother of two abducted children and Dasha’s mother. Despite suffering from cancer, she summons the strength to embark on the arduous journey. Her performance is particularly compelling in the way it combines physical frailty with inner strength. Her character demonstrates that resistance need not always be loud or heroic.

Together, the singers create a portrait of female solidarity, united and strengthened by their shared mission. The opera thus portrays not only mothers fighting for their children, but also women supporting one another along a path that none of them could undertake alone.

The performance was further enriched by two choirs: the chorus of the Polish National Opera and the Artos Children’s Choir. Through their vocal power and the impressive mass scenes, they added another dimension to the production, conveying a sense of oppression and despair on behalf of the Ukrainian people.

 

 

Keri-Lynn Wilson: Music as Activism

 

Keri-Lynn Wilson leads the orchestra of the Polish National Opera with assured finesse. Her passion for the cause is unmistakable. She sees her conducting as a contribution to the cultural effort on behalf of Ukraine. As founder of the Ukrainian Freedom Orchestra, she has for years combined her artistic work with a commitment to ensuring that Ukrainian music and Ukrainian voices are heard internationally.

Musically, she draws everything the score has to offer with tremendous emotional force: from orchestral tuttis that surge towards the limits of what is bearable to lyrical, beautiful passages reminiscent of Ukrainian folk songs. At times, Wilson allows the orchestra to become an audible antagonist to the women: it presses in on them, yet also drives them forward, while opening up moments in which the music approaches the human need for comfort and consolation.

The Mothers of Kherson was created as a co-production between the Polish National Opera and the Metropolitan Opera in New York. A concert version was presented in Kyiv in June 2026; the Warsaw performance on 16 October marks the fully staged world premiere of the complete opera. The Metropolitan Opera plans to present its own premiere in April 2028.

Peter Gelb, General Manager of the Metropolitan Opera and Keri-Lynn Wilson’s husband, travelled to Warsaw especially for the premiere. He described the work as a “testimony to war crimes”, underscoring its ambition to secure a place for these women’s stories in the international cultural memory.

 

 

No Happy Ending—but Not the End Either

 

Despite the rescue of many children, the opera does not end with a happy ending. Given the current situation in Ukraine, such a conclusion would hardly be appropriate. According to the Ukrainian initiative Bring Kids Back UA, more than 20,000 children had been registered as deported by 18 October 2026; the actual number may only become clear in retrospect. Behind every figure lies an individual destiny, a childhood interrupted, a family still hoping for a reunion.

Instead of a triumphant finale, a lullaby sung by reunited children and mothers brings the opera to a close. Despite their return home, the trauma of what they have experienced remains embedded in the families’ lives. The rescue brings the journey to an end, but not its consequences. What has happened cannot simply be forgotten. The music therefore holds both realities together: the relief of reunion and the knowledge of wounds that will endure.

The Mothers of Kherson is an opera for everyone. Just as war concerns us all and we must not look away, this work offers even those with little experience of opera an opportunity to engage with its story and its message. The artistic and musical team has achieved this in a truly impressive way.

The opera offers a way to engage with the conflict, and particularly with the individual destinies caught up in it, on an emotional level that leaves a lasting impression. Its immediate musical language, clear dramatic structure, and focus on women give it an impact that does not depend on prior musical knowledge. It is a work that continues to resonate long after the performance has ended.

In this way, Maxim Kolomiiets and George Brant carry forward an idea that also lies at the heart of Alexievich’s work: history is shaped above all by the voices of those who live through it and by experiences that cannot be gleaned from official narratives alone.

Alexievich gave a voice to the women of the Second World War. The Mothers of Kherson turns that same attention towards the present. The opera gives the war here and now a female face: one shaped by maternal resilience, unimaginable pain, and the unwavering, selfless struggle to protect one’s own children and preserve their lives. And it reminds us that listening itself can be a form of responsibility: so that suffering is not forgotten and we never grow accustomed to it.

 

Watch the opera on ARTE (available from 24 October 2026): https://www.arte.tv/de/videos/134660-000-A/die-muetter-von-cherson/

 

• Review by Alexandra Richter / Editorial team, DAS OPERNMAGAZIN
• Polish National Opera, Warsaw
• Cover photo: Polish National Opera, Warsaw / THE MOTHERS OF KHERSON / Photo: Krzysztof Bieliński
• Travel expenses were covered by the Polish National Opera in Warsaw.