Meet the composer and librettist of Mud Girl, one of the three winning micro-operas for FSOO 2026!
Often the most poignant and powerful dialogue happens between those who create and those who perform. That’s why OOO connects our singing-artists with the composers and librettists selected for the 8th Fresh Squeezed Ounce of Opera.
If you’re curious about the story inspiration, what to listen for, what to expect, and more, you’re in the right place.
Here, get the scoop behind the story of Mud Girl by Omar Najmi (composer) and Christine Evans (librettist) – with questions from the cast – designed to enhance your experience.
First, a quick synopsis:
A catastrophic flood has reshaped the world. MAUDE, a scientist, fled the city’s toxic remnants over a decade ago, painfully relinquishing her work and her connection to the networks that power it. She rescued RIVER, a young child, clinging to a shopping basket hurtling down the river. But now that RIVER’S reaching adolescence, she needs companions, a bigger world, and her independence. Can MAUDE keep her safe from a world she sees as brimming with human threats, pathogens, and dangerously mutating AI?
Commissioned through the American Opera Initiative at Washington National Opera
Do you consider the story to be a cautionary tale for the future of humanity due to the expedited progression of AI and technology?
Christine: No. We don’t need one- we’re already living it! I’m more interested in creating wonder and asking questions, than in conveying a message.
For River, curiosity and loneliness drive her to build her Mud Girl. She sees no difference between plastic and mud— they’re both part of the only world she’s known. Maude tried to protect her but Maude is caught between the world she’s lost, and the new one River is in. How do you find joy and a way forward in a melting, morphing world? Their struggle is over that question.
Omar: No, I actually don’t think of Mud Girl as a ‘cautionary tale’ per se. I think one of the fascinating elements is the generational difference between Maude as someone who knew a very different world before, and River who knows only this world. There is a purity to River’s vision of the world, and through her lens, the world they inhabit, the remnants of the world before, and her creation Poly are not malevolent. They are in a sense morally neutral, and I think this piece aims to step aside from judgment and consider that the world WILL change and transform, through climate change, through technology, and address the big question of what we do with that new world. That said, I am personally actively opposed to all current iterations of generative AI.
What specific folklore inspired the story?
Omar: One of the influences that Christine cited early on in our brainstorming of this story was the myth of the Golem from Jewish folklore. Elements of this mythology as I understand it include the creation of a humanoid creature from mud or clay, the responsibility that comes with playing God and creating life, and the danger that such a creature could pose if not properly returned to inert earth.
Christine: MUD GIRL is an attempt to imagine hope in a changed world. The idea came to me in a dream: a voice said, “I was a frog, a leaf, a star. And I will be again”. When I woke, I saw these two figures- River, a girl, and Maude, a middle-aged woman- cooking frogs over a fire, under a huge broken bridge. Together, these elements made me wonder about deep time- how forms change over time, whether the borders between living and non-living are porous. And I’m fascinated by creation tales- Frankenstein’s monster; the Jewish Golem (as Omar mentioned), who is alive by virtue of a letter drawn on its forehead, which can be erased. I love this idea that writing summons a being into life.
Do you feel that Poly reaches full consciousness by the end of the story? In other words, an ability to make their own decisions and experience full emotions?
Christine: I would say, she/they are definitely alive— she’s learned how to “build” her being from ones and zeros— and she has the desire of every living thing to exist. In nascent state they are two (they); when they fully connect, they become one being (she, or “we”). She can feel fear, and connection, and wonder—- perhaps like any newborn being who has the ability to grow and become.
Omar: My short answer is yes, Poly reaches sentience. We know in her words that she experiences fear. But the more involved answer is that this piece interrogates our definitions of sentience and sapience and exposes the porousness of our conceptual barrier between what is and isn’t alive. Poly’s name has several meanings. On the surface, River names her after the murmuring of component chemical names she hears. But she is also named Poly because she is a composite being, comprised of many different infinitesimally small ‘grains of sentience’ working together as a whole, bound by River’s naming. This was a big part of why we chose to have Poly performed by two singers in simultaneous counterpoint. And in a certain regard we too are composite creatures. There is microbial life within us that is intrinsically tied to our survival, the mitochondria in our cells have their own DNA – so really, how different are we from Poly? She is a new kind of life, for sure, but yes, I think she is alive and conscious!
Christine: And the “shiver” in the story is her coming to life— what might happen next is an open question!



