Review of Yeston & Kopit’s Phantom at Sejong Center, June 2025

While most audiences are familiar with Andrew Lloyd Webber’s The Phantom of the Opera, fewer have seen Yeston & Kopit’s Phantom — a more intimate, dialogue-heavy adaptation with a very different tone. At the Sejong Center this June, I finally had the chance to experience it live. The production was visually ambitious, vocally refined, and emotionally earnest, though its second act presented some structural challenges.

One of the most striking features was the extensive use of LED backdrops, which projected vivid, panoramic images of Palais Garnier, the streets of Paris, underground canals, a misty forest, and even a stage-to-audience view of the Garnier auditorium. Transitions like crossing a second-floor bridge or descending toward the lake were handled with cinematic fluidity. The architectural precision suggests the visuals were likely authorized, or at least based on accurate references. Such realism would have been impossible when the show premiered in the early 1990s, which likely relied on painted flats or rolling curtains. Visually, the production now leans closer to film than stagecraft.

At one point, the LED backdrop revealed a sweeping view of Garnier’s roofline, complete with the angel statue familiar from ALW’s rooftop scene. That detail — subtle but unmistakable — briefly bridged the two productions. Though entirely separate works, the shared image felt like a quiet echo across interpretations.

The Sejong Center’s large proscenium stage was used effectively. Even with constant scene changes and moving set pieces, the space never felt cramped. The designers wisely embraced the stage’s full scale without boxing it in, which ensured all seating zones had clear sightlines — no masking or compromised views. Some productions at Sejong attempt to shrink the space using an inner proscenium, often resulting in muddier acoustics and unbalanced sound. This production avoided that mistake, and the results were clear.

The stage was busy, often bustling with motion. At first, this gave the impression of a high-budget, well-rehearsed production that valued seamless transitions. But after about thirty minutes, the near-constant shifting of props became overstimulating. The smoothness of the mechanics started to pull focus from the story.

Vocally, the leads were well-cast. Jihye Lee played Christine with elegance and precision. The role demands a classically trained soprano, and she delivered with clean phrasing, accurate pitch, and clarity in the upper register. Though she occasionally used bending techniques suited to musical theater, her foundation remained firmly classical.

Park Hyo-shin, widely recognized for his breathy, emotionally charged ballad style — often linked to the “소몰이 창법” — showed notable restraint here. He avoided the wide vibrato and dramatic slides associated with that approach, instead offering a controlled, musically focused performance. The emotional weight remained: at times, he sounded on the verge of tears. In the mid-register, particularly in the opening of Act II, he used a wider vibrato, but consistently ended each phrase with clarity and control. It was a more contained but no less expressive portrayal, revealing his growth as a musical theater performer.

One of the show’s strongest additions was “With You in His Arms” (“이렇게 그대 그의 품에”), reportedly composed by Maury Yeston specifically for the Korean production after hearing Park’s signature ballad “야생화 (Wild Flower).” The song felt perfectly tailored to Park’s voice and was emotionally resonant.

Other musical highlights included “You Are Music,” “My Mother Bore Me,” and the charming bistro scene. While light numbers like “Melodie de Paris” and the music lesson motifs offered a whimsical break, they lacked dramatic substance. The "Music Lessons" segments, in particular, felt more like basic Hanon piano exercises — repetitive patterns played out repeatedly. The motif later returned as an orchestral piece and again in a vocal exchange between Christine and the Phantom, perhaps as a bonding tool, but musically it remained simplistic.

Act I was musically dense and well-paced. Act II, by contrast, shifted tone and structure. It began with an extended ballet sequence — about 20 minutes in length — which initially marked a jarring genre shift. Though I didn’t dislike it — the ballerina was graceful, and the dancer portraying young Carrière was unexpectedly strong — the segment felt long. Fortunately, the tone was steadied afterward by the emotionally charged and vocally haunting “My Mother Bore Me,” which brought musical focus back into the act.

The second half of Act II then relied heavily on spoken dialogue, with sparse musical content. It felt like the production transitioned from musical to ballet to straight play. This structural blend could have worked with better framing, but here it lacked cohesion. The final scenes, including rope choreography and circus swings, might have been more impactful if sung. Instead, these sequences gave the performers little chance to showcase their vocal strengths.

Some of this may stem from the musical’s history. Yeston & Kopit’s Phantom was written before ALW’s version premiered in 1986, at a time when audiences were less familiar with Gaston Leroux’s novel. The writers relied heavily on dialogue to fill in story gaps. But for a modern audience — especially one that already knows the plot — the abundance of spoken exposition feels excessive. I would have preferred more music, less talk.

One visually and emotionally effective moment occurred during the ballet: as the ballerina mimed Erik’s mother, Christine’s voice (Jihye Lee) echoed in darkness, creating a ghostly duet of memory. It was a smart directorial choice, representing Erik’s longing and trauma with subtlety.

A curious dramatic moment came when the Phantom quoted William Blake’s “My Mother Bore Me.” Though poetic, it felt an odd fit. This Phantom is a singer, not a scholar or composer. It’s easier to imagine ALW’s Phantom, a self-taught genius, quoting Blake. In this version, it felt like artistic liberty outweighing character realism.

Among the supporting cast, Min Young-ki portrayed Gérard Carrière with gravitas and warmth. Though he didn’t sing much, his acting — particularly his physical mirroring of his younger self — was affecting. Carlotta and her husband provided charming comic relief. Carlotta was written as a poor singer, which left the audience wondering whether the performer’s true ability was being hidden. The character Philip, who frequently escorted women to music lessons, was not portrayed as a romantic rival or prince figure. The actor had no major musical moment, though he revealed himself to be a capable singer during the curtain call. The chorus was solid throughout.

The Sejong Center is often criticized for its difficult acoustics. Designed primarily for classical music, the venue can blur amplified sound. Yet this production sounded cleaner than others I’ve heard there. The sound team’s coordination with the cast and orchestra was evident. Their thoughtful use of the full stage — without unnecessary masking — allowed the sound to breathe naturally.

Translation was smartly localized, including Korean cultural references like K-pop song titles and ramen brands, which drew knowing laughter from the audience.

The house was full, and the applause was loud and sincere. This was clearly Park Hyo-shin’s night. The production seemed to have approval from or collaboration with the original creators. Effects like Carlotta’s electrocution, chandelier lighting, and the opera-within-an-opera curtain showed the use of updated technology and thoughtful coordination.

Final Thoughts

The Phantom doesn’t have to be mysterious — and Yeston’s Phantom shouldn’t be judged against Lloyd Webber’s. Taken on its own, it’s a dialogue-heavy romantic melodrama with a musically graceful first act and a genre-blending, less cohesive second act. If you enjoy emotionally earnest storytelling and are open to shifts in theatrical mode, this may appeal. If you prefer consistent pacing and musical continuity, it may feel uneven.