THE MONKEY KING LANDS WITH A ROAR

A dazzling, design-driven premiere expands what opera can be

Every now and then an opera house unveils something that doesn’t just premiere — it shifts the whole conversation about what new opera might be. San Francisco Opera’s The Monkey King is exactly that kind of event: vibrant, imaginative, visually extravagant, and proudly uninterested in the minimalism, atonality, and thin storytelling that have flattened so many recent commissions. It’s a reminder that opera, of all art forms, still has room to surprise us — and maybe even reinvent itself.

Mei Gui Zhang as Guanyin

Just in time for the winter holidays, The Monkey King arrives like a bright lacquered gift box — bursting with color, movement, and a mischievous airborne hero at its center. This world-premiere opera, adapted by composer Huang Ruo and librettist David Henry Hwang from the Ming-dynasty spiritual fable Journey to the West, blends Buddhism, comic invention, martial arts, mythic pageantry, and theatrical swagger into an exuberant spectacle unlike anything in the current repertoire. Commissioned in partnership with the Chinese Heritage Foundation of Minnesota, the work is performed in English and Mandarin, with English and Chinese supertitles.

Joo Won Kang as Lord Erlang (center) with Christopher Jackson as King
of the North, Chester Pidduck as King of the South, Jonathan Smucker
as King of the East, and William O'Neill as King of the WestThe Monkey King puppet

Sun Wukong — the Monkey King — is a rebellious, stone-born immortal who, on his way toward enlightenment, shape-shifts, defies the gods, and repeatedly tangles with heaven’s bureaucracy. His journey becomes a meditation on power, independence, and the slippery cost of ego — a surprisingly timely parable. Transformation is his defining trait, so the creators represent him through a triad of artistic disciplines: Kang Wang’s gleaming tenor gives Sun Wukong his voice; dancer Huiwang Zhang supplies the bravado and lightning-quick physicality; and puppetry created by theatrical wizard Basil Twist animates the spirit inside the creature, unlocking the character’s supernatural dimension. Far from a gimmick, the approach reflects Wukong’s very nature. The Monkey King is always dividing, multiplying, disguising, transforming. In this staging, he literally can.

Kang Wang as the Monkey King with members of the SFO Chorus

The stage is populated by gods, demons, celestial functionaries, and a full roster of named figures from the classic tale. Mei Gui Zhang brings warmth and authority as Guanyin, the Bodhisattva of Compassion, while Konu Kim makes a sharp-edged, exasperated Jade Emperor. They are joined by Peixin Chen as Supreme Sage Laojun, Joo Won Kang as Dragon King Ao Guang and Lord Erlang, Hongni Wu as the Crab General and Venus Star, and Jusung Gabriel Park as Master Subhuti, later revealed to be the Buddha. In a clever physical doubling, Marcos Vedovetto becomes the dancer counterpart to Lord Erlang. Supporting these figures in court scenes, battles, rituals, and Wukong’s many transgressions is a robust ensemble of dancers and puppeteers and the ever-excellent San Francisco Opera Chorus, under John Keene, who collectively give the production its sense of scale and teeming life.

Jusung Gabriel Park as Master Subhuti with members of the SFO ChorusDancer Huiwang Zhang

Hwang, whose M. Butterfly redefined East–West theatrical storytelling back in 1988 (and returns to San Francisco Playhouse in 2026), offers a libretto that is lean, lyrical, and surprisingly funny — an age-old myth shaped with contemporary clarity. Huang’s evocative score shifts between steady rhythmic pulse and cinematic sweep; it may not lodge in the memory the way a Puccini earworm does, but it propels the evening with a spiritual undercurrent that suits the tale. Making her Company debut, conductor Carolyn Kuan brings crisp definition to the bursts of rhythm, meditative textures, and ritualistic sonorities that draw more from ceremony than traditional Western melody. It’s music that moves the story forward and leaves room for the design to speak.

Jusung Gabriel Park as Buddha, Mei Gui Zhang as Guanyin, and Kang WangKang Wang

That design, under director Diane Paulus with Basil Twist serving as the production’s de facto visual architect, becomes its own engine of storytelling. Without a traditional scenic designer, Twist’s puppetry, creatures, and kinetic imagery define the opera’s shifting landscapes — from the depths of the sea to battles in heaven — giving the work a fluid sense of place. Ann Yee’s choreography pulls from Chinese theatrical traditions and martial-arts forms without ever feeling borrowed or literal. Anita Yavich’s costumes — a riot of saturated reds, shimmering golds, and luminous greens — announce character and hierarchy the moment performers appear. Ayumu “Poe” Saegusa’s lighting and Hana S. Kim’s projections sculpt the production’s shifting environments with clarity and imagination, while Jamie Guan, as Peking Opera specialist, brings the stylistic precision and gesture vocabulary that root the piece in its cultural lineage. Together, the design team produces a world that seems to fold and unfold from the air itself.

Jusung Gabriel Park as Master Subhuti and Kang WangThe Dragon Palace of the Eastern Sea

And here’s where the big question arises: Why is this considered an opera? Because despite its dance, puppetry, mythmaking, and comic-book flair, the scale, vocal writing, orchestral foundation, and narrative ambition remain unmistakably operatic. It doesn’t reject the form — it broadens it, allowing an enduring myth to feel both ancient and newly minted.

Hongni Wu as Venus Star, Joo Won Kang as Dragon King Ao Guang,
Konu Kim as Jade Emperor, and Peixin Chen as Supreme Sage LaojunKonu Kim as Jade Emperor (center) with members of the SFO Chorus

What’s striking is how the elements traditionally thought of as “supporting” — the costumes, puppetry, projections, lighting, and movement — become the storytelling engine itself, continually shifting as Wukong evolves. The Monkey King isn’t trying to imitate Verdi or Wagner; it’s a different kind of opera altogether, one that treats the stage as a multimedia canvas rather than a museum case.

 Kang Wang

This is the sort of surprise a new commission should deliver: imagination, wit, and enough stagecraft to make the impossible appear briefly possible. Most modern premieres feel dutiful. This one feels genuinely alive. A vibrant, invigorating debut — and a reminder that even in one of America’s grandest opera houses, there’s still room to play. The Monkey King may well point toward a future where new operas are grand, visually fearless, culturally specific, and structurally inventive all at once. The art form could use more of that. Judging from this debut, Sun Wukong isn’t the only one determined to leap past the old rules.

Jonathan Smucker as King of the East and dancer Huiwang ZhangKang Wang (center)

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photos by Cory Weaver/San Francisco Opera
poster illustrations by Brian Stauffer

The Monkey King
San Francisco Opera
War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness Ave
performed in English and Mandarin with English and Chinese supertitles
2 hours and 23 minutes, including intermission
played November 14-30, 2025
for more info, visit SF Opera

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Peixin Chen as Supreme Sage LaojunKang Wang Joo Won Kang as Dragon King Ao GuangDancer Huiwang ZhangMei Gui Zhang as Guanyin and Kang Wang