Giorgio Pasotti’s Othello: A Modern Reflection on Violence

A stage lit by mirrors and illusions, a performance in conversation with the present, and an immortal text reimagined through the lens of one of Italy’s most important writers. Othello, adapted by Dacia Maraini and boldly directed by Giorgio Pasotti, is far more than a simple theatrical reinterpretation — it is a civic outcry, a call for reflection, a collective demand for accountability.

Behind this powerful reworking of Shakespeare lies a deeply contemporary urgency: the need to once again confront violence — against women, against those who are different.
“This is a tragically relevant issue, one that confronts us with its persistent brutality every single day,” says Pasotti. “That’s precisely why I felt the need to return to the Bard, to his words, and show how — even after 500 years — these dynamics are not only still with us, but in many ways have actually regressed.”

But Pasotti’s Othello introduces a quiet, strategic inversion: Iago, traditionally the puppet master of the tragedy, retreats into the shadows.
“I didn’t want Desdemona’s murder to be explained away as the result of deception. I wanted to show Othello as a young man blinded by an emotion he couldn’t manage — jealousy. I was interested in exploring the reckless act of a young man who holds a significant position, but is still navigating the world as a second-generation Italian. Someone who also carries the weight of an ancestral culture that isn’t Italian, but is still his. That’s why I tried to shape the music, costumes, and sets as a cultural patchwork — drawing from both Eastern and Western traditions — to make this story as universally relatable as possible. What emerged were real feelings: family ties, friendship, love. The things that speak to us today.”

The result is a piece of theater that speaks the language of cinema — thanks in part to evocative set design and intelligent directorial choices, such as the use of mirrors on stage.
“That idea isn’t mine,Pasotti admits modestly. “It was used in La Traviata of Mirrors by set designer Josef Svoboda. But I found it perfect for this production — the mirror reveals even the most hidden emotions, it expands space, it adds depth to the story.”

The Doge — a symbol of power and indifference — enters the scene with laughter, only to strike the audience with disturbing, “monstrous” truths.
“I wanted the audience to laugh, yes, but also to feel challenged,” says Pasotti. “Because deep down, we all share some responsibility for what happens. Everything begins with the family, with education. This isn’t meant to be entertainment — it’s a warning to everyone living in this era, a call to action. Each of us must do something, even in our own small way. The culture you belong to plays a crucial role in shaping who you become. But family education can’t be outsourced — not even to schools. Parents must take responsibility for raising their children. We need to ask ourselves why there’s so much suffering.”

This production doesn’t aim to please Shakespearean purists — it challenges them.
“Of course I was nervous about how those expecting a traditional version would react. But theater has a duty: it must shape future audiences — especially young ones. And it won’t succeed unless it learns to speak their language and respect their rhythms.” That’s why the show moves with a cinematic tempo, with costumes and music blending East and West into a cultural melting pot that transcends space and time.

Stepping into the role of Othello is Giacomo Giorgio, a rising star from television, supported by a tight-knit, passionate cast who “listen to the music, inhabit the space, and give meaning to every movement.” It’s a group effort marked by both hard work and deep enthusiasm.

And what’s next?
“In September I’ll begin rehearsals for an opera I’ll be directing — La Traviata — which premieres at Teatro Coccia in Novara on September 26. But my guiding principle remains the same: to bring to the stage only what I would want to see as a spectator.”

Finally, Pasotti leaves us with a broader reflection that goes beyond the stage:
“To bring young people closer to theater, we need to change our habits — even our schedules. Performances at 7 p.m., like in many other countries, would allow young audiences to experience theater without giving up their evening. And theater should be a mandatory school subject — it’s living culture, and children should grow up with it.”

Giorgio Pasotti’s Othello isn’t just a rewritten tragedy — it’s a civic work, looking toward the future without losing sight of the past.
A call, for all of us, to reflect — and above all, to act.