Stepping out of her dressing room at the legendary Metropolitan Opera, Sandra Oh declared with a mix of excitement and determination, “It’s happening. I’m doing this.”
Her journey backstage led her through a labyrinth of iconic opera sets, from “Turandot” to “Don Giovanni.” Along the way, Oh greeted colleagues she’d come to know during the intense weeks leading up to her opera debut. She’s taking on the role of the Duchess of Krakenthorp in Donizetti’s “La Fille du Régiment,” which is set to premiere its seven-performance run this Friday.
A brief pause in the wings, then onto the grand stage. While not her first time standing there, this final dress rehearsal marked her inaugural performance before an audience. The moment she made her entrance, the applause was thunderous.
The Duchess of Krakenthorp is a unique role—a speaking part often filled by seasoned, sometimes retired, opera singers. However, it’s also a coveted spot for celebrity cameos, with past performers including acclaimed actresses like Kathleen Turner, the charismatic drag queen Monét X Change, and even the revered Ruth Bader Ginsburg.
While best known for her captivating performances on screen in hit TV series like “Grey’s Anatomy” and “Killing Eve,” and films such as “Sideways” and the recent “Good Fortune,” Oh has also been making a significant impact on stage. This past summer, she graced Shakespeare in the Park as Olivia in “Twelfth Night.”
It was at the “Twelfth Night” premiere that she reconnected with Peter Gelb, the Met’s general manager. Their paths had first crossed in the 1990s during the making of “The Red Violin,” where Oh was acting and Gelb was a Sony executive. When he extended an invitation to play the Duchess in “La Fille,” her schedule, freed up by a postponed movie, allowed her to accept. Her Canadian upbringing in Ottawa, where she learned French, proved to be an unexpected advantage.

Oh isn’t entirely new to the opera world, having visited Moscow’s Bolshoi Theater in her student days and attending William Kentridge’s production of “Lulu” at the Met a decade prior. Although “Lulu” is considered intense, Oh, familiar with the Wedekind plays it’s based on, was eager to see Berg’s opera adaptation. She was captivated by the performance, particularly by mezzo-soprano Susan Graham, who sang Countess Geschwitz. Now, a decade later, Graham is her colleague in “La Fille.” Upon realizing this connection during rehearsals, Oh excitedly told Graham, “Girl, I saw you!”
Yet, despite her extensive experience in Hollywood, Oh confessed that she had never truly grasped the intricate mechanics of opera production—the sheer scale of personnel and departments required to bring a show to life—until now.
She raved, “I love seeing all the stuff backstage. It’s like, ‘Turandot’ is over there, ‘La Sonnambula’ is over there, and there are all these pieces, but also so much hard work and professionalism going on all the time. It’s all happening at an extremely high level, down to the person in charge of the calendar.”
Before joining the Met, she admitted to a certain naiveté. “It’s a great ignorance on my part to think that somehow it all magically happens,” Oh mused. “But that’s also the beauty and the mystique of the performance. You don’t see any of the effort, only the beauty.”
Above all, Oh expressed deep admiration for the operatic voices she’s heard up close. Her character, the Duchess, is meant to be haughty and prone to angry outbursts, maintaining a perpetual scowl. This proved challenging, however, when listening to the stunning performances of soprano Erin Morley and tenor Lawrence Brownlee.
“It’s one of the hardest things,” Oh confessed. “Erin’s singing is, like, this beautiful goddess coming down, and I just have to be filled with anger and hate. All these unbelievable singers, and I have to look like a big sourpuss.”

During her Tuesday dressing room prep, Oh remained perfectly still as Heath Bryant-Huppert, the Met’s assistant head of makeup, meticulously applied her lipstick. The voice of Erin Morley, singing the lead role of Marie, echoed from the monitor. Breaking her silent concentration, Oh remarked, “See? That’s what I’m talking about.”

Oh’s Met journey began in early September with costume fittings, overlapping with her “Twelfth Night” run. Rehearsals kicked off a few weeks later, allowing her to bond with the cast and familiarize herself with the Met’s vast stage and auditorium—a stark contrast to screen acting, where gestures must be grand enough to captivate even the most distant audience members.
To master these broad gestures, she sought advice from Met veterans, who instructed her to project her voice “at the exit signs.” Backstage, she found invaluable support from the “total pros” in costumes, wigs, and makeup. One such artist even crafted a magnificent fan for her, reminiscent of a prop from “Twelfth Night,” which she wields with fierce elegance to underscore the Duchess’s formidable personality.
Her costume is a character in itself: a lacy dress boasting a comically large bustle, a vibrant blond wig streaked with purple, and a whimsical hat secured by magnets—a hat that still bears Kathleen Turner’s name tag from a previous production. Preparing for Tuesday’s rehearsal, Oh, adorned with rings on her left hand, received assistance from dresser Laila Alvarado and wig-maker/hair stylist Lexi O’Reilly. She occasionally took sips from a “Twelfth Night” water bottle, playfully adorned with stickers of her former castmates, including Daphne Rubin-Vega reimagined as a beagle.


Leaving her dressing room, Oh radiated a comfortable familiarity, far from a mere guest. She chatted and laughed with colleagues, holding doors open, before making her way to the stage. (During a cast photo shoot, she comically twirled her enormous bustle, trying to make space.) Her grand entrance was met with roaring cheers, prompting bass-baritone Peter Kalman to quip from the wings, “That’s it, we can go home.”
For many of her fans, Oh’s performance will be a fresh experience, showcasing pantomime comedy and a delightful lack of subtlety, all designed for maximum laughs. She explained, “Everything has to be slower, and more deliberately carved. The way that I would normally do comedy is to drop a line, but you cannot do that here. You have to kind of lob it up, in a different way.”
The dress rehearsal was a riot, particularly when Oh broke character from her French dialogue to ad-lib in English, “Sweetheart, don’t be stingy with the schnitzel.” Her castmates were quick with congratulations afterward, and Lawrence Brownlee assured her she’d done wonderfully on the way out. But Oh, ever the perfectionist, knew she wasn’t quite done.
“I’m still trying to figure stuff out,” she admitted, a glint of determination in her eye. “You know, I have seven chances, so I’m going to make the most out of all of them.”