Director Claus Guth heightens the surrealism of this initially extremely cruel fairy tale, which he prefers to see as a »parable«, into the grotesque. Guth sees Calaf, son of the fugitive Tartar king Timur, »thrown into a world that he cannot understand«. It is a system that functions according to its own logic: Princess Turandot, in order to protect herself, has built a bureaucratic apparatus around her that is as brutal as it is effective. For director Claus Guth, it is clear that Turandot is describing her own experience when she speaks of the terrible things done to her ancestor Lu-o-lin; the terror state is her reaction. The stage by Etienne Pluss, the costumes by Ursula Krdina and the choreography by Sommer Ulricksen show it from the outside as well as the inside - and also its decay, which is the necessary prerequisite for Turandot and Calaf's happy ending.

The sailor's daughter Senta takes pity on the centuries-old legendary figure of the Flying Dutchman. He was condemned by Satan to sail the world's oceans until a woman frees him from this curse through her loyalty. One day, when Senta's father returns home from a long voyage with a mysterious man, Senta is the only one who recognizes the Flying Dutchman in the sinister foreign captain. At the cost of self-destruction, she decides to redeem him. Director Christine Mielitz and her set designer Stefan Mayer see Daland's and the Dutchman's ships as an image of the entire world, of life itself, in which we all have to find our way around.