In the landscape of Italian orchestral conducting, Beatrice Venezi occupies a singular place. She is young, determined, visible, and moves with ease between the operatic repertoire, cultural outreach, and the public debate. In a country inclined to defend its aesthetic strongholds, her figure—often more discussed than analysed—becomes a broader field of reflection: on what it means today to be an interpreter, a communicator, and perhaps a symbol.

The appointment of Beatrice Venezi as Music Director of the Teatro La Fenice in Venice sparked a heated debate, in which artistic merit was soon overwhelmed by partisan logic.
Yet, beyond opinions, one fact remains clear: Beatrice Venezi is a solid musician, with a coherent path and a precise vision — to restore to classical music a contemporary vitality, freeing it from certain habits that render it immobile.

Her recordings (My Journey – Puccini’s Symphonic Works and Heroines, both for Warner Music) reveal a sober conducting style, more attentive to design and colour than to effect — perhaps not yet endowed with the interpretive depth of the great masters, but already capable of a distinct sense of sound and structure.
Her London debut with L’amico Fritz in 2021 was received by much of the British press as a convincing performance, marked by balance and theatrical sense.
Not an exploit, but a serious step in a career under construction.

The issue, however, lies elsewhere: Italy struggles to deal with its own talents when they do not conform to familiar patterns. Venezi is a figure who exposes herself, communicates, allows herself to be read. What for some is media lightness, for others is the rare ability to bring classical music into the language of the present, making it less austere and more permeable.
Whether one approves or not, it is an act of courage: for in our country, where culture often hides behind austerity, those who dare to show themselves risk being misunderstood.

The tensions surrounding her appointment at La Fenice — with internal protests and disproportionate public reactions — reveal a deeper difficulty: that of recognising authority in the feminine when it does not pass through discretion. In this sense, Beatrice Venezi is not only a musician but also a litmus test of how we conceive merit, and of our resistance to a different model of leadership — less hierarchical, more dialogical, more open to communication.

The measure of her work, naturally, will be seen on the podium. Yet it would be shortsighted to reduce everything to questions of allegiance or visibility.
If she succeeds in consolidating a personal interpretive language and in finding, within an orchestra such as La Fenice, the trust necessary to build something enduring, time — not polemics — will provide the answer.