Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart - Idomeneo
Buxton Festival, 2018
Nicholas Kok, Stephen Medcalf, Paul Nilon, Rebecca Bottone, Heather Lowe, Madeleine Pierard, Ben Thapa, Richard Dowling, Julian Debreuil
Buxton Opera House - 19th July 2018
As well as working on a trilogy of rare early Verdi works over the last couple of years, the Buxton Festival have also been presenting a number of Mozart's early operas that aren't quite as well known and rarely staged. Like early Verdi these can be a mixed bag but very worthwhile if you can find and show the qualities and the promise in the works. La Finta Giardiniera proved to be an absolute delight in Buxton's staging, wonderfully effervescent and playful, but Lucio Silla last year on the other hand came across as rather dour and uneventful. Idomeneo is certainly the best of early Mozart and consequently it is always worth exploring, but in contrast to some exciting and ambitious recent readings of the work elsewhere, Buxton's approach doesn't initially seem to have a great deal to bring to the work.
For an opera that is very much connected to the sea and the curse of Neptune, Stephen Medcalf's production somewhat counter-intuitively sets the whole three acts of Idomeneo within a dry room that is semi-buried in a sand drift. It's a simple enough image that does capture some sense of the domestic drama at the heart of the plot as well as the forces of nature at the heart of the work without having to be overly literal. If Roderick Williams and Iain Burnside could bring all the heart-freezing sentiments of Schubert's Winterreise fully into being earlier in the day during one of the hottest summers on record in the UK, well there's no reason why Buxton can't likewise test the effectiveness of Mozart's setting of Idomeneo. And you wouldn't bet against Mozart winning through.
With the same set designed by Isabella Bywater unchanged for all three acts, and only open doors and windows for the characters and chorus to make their entrances and exits, there was no other apparent concept or original reading applied. If there was any area in which Buxton's Idomeneo differed from other recent productions, it was that Stephen Medcalf took a rather more balanced view of the contrasting forces at work in the opera. This was one of the kindest and most gentle Idomeneos I've seen, particularly in its sympathetic treatment of Electra and Idomeneo, more often seen as the villains in the piece. That does actually place a very different perspective on the work, but you really have to wait a long time in this opera seria for its impact to come through.
In terms of characterisation and relationships and how they are expressed through the opera seria medium, the production is fairly 'dry'. Idomeneo's indecision, vacillation and agonising over his rash promise to Neptune to kill his own son as a sacrificial offering doesn't cut much ice in terms of eliciting sympathy. Idamante and Ilia's romance feels rather wet and unlikely to ever get off the ground, each of them delicately stepping around the subject. In such a situation where everyone is being 'nice' and non-committal, Electra seems to have the best potential to break through here and shake the opera up, but she too seems to take it rather philosophically, mildly disappointed at her rejection by Idamante rather than filled with righteous vengeance.
How much is down to the direction and how much down to the characterisation adopted by the singers and even how much of it is down to Mozart's music potentially being rather too generous is debatable. The singing is good all around, but little of it seems to express any real personality, particularly when you want and expect an Electra full of fire and fury. But as the opera exerts its own momentum a strong central figure does emerge, and in contrast to the tendency to portray him as weak, indecisive and no longer fit to rule, it's Idomeneo who surprisingly takes centre stage. After all, the opera is named after him, so there is merit in looking more closely at his role in the drama.
And when you're looking towards characterisation in a Mozart opera, the best gauge of that is by listening to the music that Mozart writes for the characters. Mozart at this age may perhaps not have the depth and insight into human nature that is evident in is greater mature works, but he is by no means restricted by the conventions of the opera seria format, and even at this stage shows tremendous ability to create fully rounded characters out of what is a very limited dramatic situation. And it's only fully rounded by the time you get to the end of the work. So as austere as the production and the music might seem, Mozart's personality, his innovations with the form, his undoubted attention to Gluck's reformist agenda and his own sense of melody and dramatic flow still strike you as astounding. Austere it is not, but rich in detail, alive at every moment and never indulgent.
Conducted by Nicholas Kok, the music was allowed to exert its own force and carry the momentum of the accumulated scenes. Stephen Medcalf follows this line also and allows Idomeneo's curse, fate and fall to emerge from it as the true heart of the work. Idamante's love, generosity and humanity are important and Heather Lowe gives voice to that, just as Madeleine Pierard expresses Electra's anger but doesn't allow it to overwhelm and dominate. In line with Mozart's music, it's Paul Nilon who makes every moment of Idomeneo's agony to be truly felt, seemingly possessed by an evil spirit that forces him to enact the promised sacrifice, fighting with himself and his guilt at surviving the sea-wreck. Quite brilliantly supporting this interpretation, Neptune, when he makes his appearance at the end of the opera speaks chillingly through the possessed body of Idomeneo.
If the Buxton production of Idomeneo shows us anything it's that Mozart's writing is capable of supporting other readings and interpretations, but even in its purest and most austere form and despite its serious nature, it's a rich and involving work in its own right. Allowing each of the characters voice (although Arbace is inevitably cut back here, he's far from essential to the overall impact), allowing the set pieces to have their place - the placing of the Act III quartet 'Andrò ramingo e solo' absolutely pivotal and hugely impressive here - allowing the chorus - likewise impressive - to contribute their part, is what really drives this work and makes Idomeneo an endlessly fascinating work if you stick with it and most importantly, give Mozart's music its place.
Links: Buxton Festival
George Frideric Handel - Tamerlano
Buxton Festival, 2016
Laurence Cummings, Francis Matthews, Rupert Enticknap, Paul Nilon, Owen Willetts, Marie Lys, Catherine Hopper, Robert Davies
Buxton Festival - 21 July 2016
The key to making an opera like Handel's Tamerlano transfer successfully to the modern stage is to find an appropriate emotional level that will make the necessary connection. You could probably say the same about any opera really, but it's particularly important for baroque opera. What might have been appropriate nearly 300 years ago might not necessarily be the case now, so there's a difficult balance to judge between fidelity to the original intentions of the work and how it can be best viewed by a modern audience. Director Francis Matthews seems to be aware of the particularities and the peculiarities of Tamerlano and this 2016 Buxton Festival production gets the essence of the work across very well indeed.
So what is the dominant mood or emotional level that the Buxton production pitches for? Well, strangely, it plays Tamerlano as something of a drama of manners. The drama of Tamerlano isn't that different from most baroque opera plots. There's a ruler who wants to marry the lover of his closest friend or ally, not realising or caring about the trouble it is going to cause. Afraid to confront the Emperor's wisdom and authority, the other protagonists whose lives have been turned upside down then embark instead on a series of laments of woe and betrayal before those sentiments start to turn towards feelings of anger and a desire for vengeance.
With a few other complications thrown in to set everyone at cross purposes, that's Tamerlano in a nutshell. Handel however, while he has no option but to adhere largely to the conventions of these emotional plot points, is much less strident about their severity. Which strikes you as unusual, because the dramatic plot seems to be dialled up to 11 here in this particular opera with several regicidal death plots of stabbing and poison, the threat of a political prisoner being executed by beheading, a heartbreaking familial conflict between a father and a daughter that plumbs the agonies of betrayal, and several other political and marital complications thrown into the emotional bouillabaisse.
Handel however, certainly as far as it is applied here in Matthews' direction and supported in the period instrument musical arrangement of Laurence Cummings conducting the English Concert, plays all the emotional turmoil of Tamerlano as a delicate question of manners and etiquette. How should Bajazet, the defeated Turkish Sultan, conduct himself before the Tartar victor? And should Tamerlano treat his prisoner with mercy or justice? Should Andronicus defer to the decrees of the Emperor, even if it means he cannot be with the woman he loves, Asteria, the daughter of Bajazet, who the Emperor himself wants to marry and then execute her father? And where does this leave Irene, who Tamerlano was originally supposed to marry? It's a troubling conundrum and one must be seen to be behaving in the right manner at all costs.
The question of etiquette being the dominant concern here is very much within the libretto of the work itself, with frequent pronouncements and accusations of arrogance, pride and anger blinding people to the correct way of behaving. Much is directed against Tamerlano, but he also sees any challenge to his authority - particularly on the part of his reluctant bride-to-be - as improper and is convinced that the 'superba' (arrogantly proud) Asteria will surely recognise what is the right way to behave in this situation and come around. The emphasis on manners is also brought out in this production by the silent courtiers who do the king's bidding, issuing proclamations to make sure protocol is followed and documenting any infractions of them.
The elegant and gentle expression of Handel's music explores the ambiguous and complicated space between intent and behaviour wonderfully, and this is brought out well in the period instrument performance and the conducting of Laurence Cummings. There's a persistent rhythm but the use of instruments and melody suggest more complex emotional workings and plays on these rather more nuanced positions that aren't quite up to the gravity of the conventional opera seria situations. There is a risk that a modern audience might still find such concern over manners and protocol a bit silly, but the production and playing takes this into account without betraying the intent of the work or turning it into a light comedy.
The position and the performance of Tamerlano and how he is characterised is important in keeping that balance. Wonderfully, the Buxton production employs a countertenor for the role (with a second countertenor for Andronico) and Rupert Enticknap plays the part of the Emperor absolutely perfectly, certainly at least as far as the tone and intentions of this production are concerned. There's an edge of arrogance in his bearing, demanding respect for his position but also wanting to appear fair to his friends and enemies, and be loved. It's amazing how much of that can be fed into Enticknap's little trills and ornamentation - just pushing his self-importance and self-confidence too far.
Other little "dramatic" gestures and mannerisms play upon the overheated pronouncements and the artificiality of how they are presented on the stage. Paul Nilon's Bajazet, for example, really milks the situations for sympathy and anguish, yet this is exactly how the role is devised and how the arias are composed for it. Yet, there's an underlying suggestion in the music that it's the proud act of a defeated man and failed father - again those roles and manners that need to be followed - and by playing it that way (undoubtedly directed to be played that way), largely straight, letting the music tell us more than the words and the gestures do, it allows a modern audience to see beyond the conventions of the opera seria form.
Adrian Linford's set designs are curious and difficult to place in any period. It's not quite a 'Night at the Museum' idea, but it does fit with the overall tone adopted which is to suggest something of a 21st century view of an 18th century depiction of the 15th century Ottoman empire, again emphasising the artificiality of it all. Aside from the two fine countertenors, Rupert Enticknap as Tamerlano and Owen Willetts as Andronicus, Marie Lys also made a great impression as the "superba" Asteria, a strong character who knows her own mind and always has a plan. She cuts through the hesitancies and uncertainties of the male characters bemoaning their fate and is more in favour of taking direction action, moving everything along as it should.
Links: Buxton Festival
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart - La Clemenza di Tito
Opera North, 2013
Douglas Boyd, John Fulljames, Paul Nilon, Annemarie Kremer, Fflur Wyn, Helen Lepalaan, Kathryn Rudge, Henry Waddington
Grand Opera House, Belfast, 7 March 2013
Mozart's final opera La Clemenza di Tito was composed in 1791 as a commission for the coronation of Leopold II as King of Bohemia. It had a short-life span which barely lasted much beyond the death of Mozart just three months after its first unsuccessful performance. The opera's failure and subsequent disappearance into near-obscurity for centuries can be put down to the haste in which it was written (once account claims it was written in just 18 days), its old-fashioned opera seria structure that was based on an old libretto by Metastasio that had already been set more than 40 times by other composers, and the fact that its story of a benevolent and forgiving king was somewhat dated and out of touch even then with the revolutionary upheaval going on in Europe at the time.
Mozart was of course in ill-health and in financial difficulties by the time he came to write La Clemenza di Tito, requiring the assistance of his student Süssmayer and Catherino Mazzolà to adapt Metastasio's libretto into a workable form, but Mozart also completed some of his greatest works during the same late period, not least of which were The Magic Flute and the Requiem, so it's not surprising that the composer's final work has resurfaced and been subjected to a number of successful productions that have highlighted the aspects of the qualities that are to be found within it. Despite the rigidity of the opera seria form and the seemingly outdated libretto, it's also a work that can sustain modern and stylised reinterpretations. And, contrary to its unrealistically optimistic outlook on the wisdom and goodness of the monarchy, certain elements of Mozart's own enlightened views can be found in the work if a director is willing to delve deeper beneath the surface.
Opera North's fresh, unfussy, clean and modernistically classical account of La Clemenza di Tito (seen on tour in Belfast) is just such a production. Recognising that the strength of the work lies within Mozart's writing, there's nothing too radical attempted here in terms of interpretation. Douglas Boyd's conducting of the Orchestra of Opera North places emphasis on the structure and rhythm of the piece, not seeking to overstate the relative simplicity of the arrangements, yet it pays attention to how certain lyrical touches give warmth and personality to what would otherwise be stock opera seria characters. This is where the danger lies in any performance of La Clemenza di Tito. It can seem like a dry, conventional and academic work, remote and aloof, uninspired in many sections, simply going through the motions and without some real emotional investment on the part of the singers, it can come across as just the rote recital of lines.
A work like La Clemenza di Tito however needs some careful consideration if it is to bring these characters to life and make their predicament seem relevant. On the surface, it doesn't look like director John Fulljames has done much tweaking of the piece. The subject remains grave and serious, each of the characters involved seem to have their own personal predicaments and it seems that anything that the Roman Emperor Titus Flavius Vespasianus (71 to 81 AD) does will only lead to unhappiness for others. As far as traditional opera seria goes, Metastasio's libretto then meets all the necessary conditions that allow a composer to express these deep feelings of anger, resentment, jealousy, betrayal and vengeance in the musical arrangements, while the work as a whole fulfils its function as a suitable piece to put on to celebrate a coronation, showing how a monarch rules for the good of his people, with wisdom, compassion, forgiveness and clemency.
Making the work feel relevant while remaining faithful to its intentions is however still something of a challenge. Setting it in the past, in its historical setting (whether from an Ancient Roman or with regard towards its 18th century relevance), will not do a great deal for this dusty opera seria, other than making it look like an ancient operatic curiosity, but it's difficult to see how it can be applied to any modern context. Fulljames doesn't attempt to impose any specific present-day parallel (an interesting essay in the programme attempts to relate it to Boris Johnson and David Cameron's present UK coalition government, but it's far from convincing), but rather sets it in a more generically timeless modern office boardroom setting of clean lines and geometric structures. While this might not seem to do much to give La Clemenza di Tito contemporary relevance, it does however provide a perfectly appropriate environment for the meticulous elegant structures of Mozart's score, and it also reflects the progression of the drama as those lines and structures break up and fragment, only to become whole again at the end.
What brings considerably more humanity out of this work however is the careful attention paid to the emotions and the predicament of the characters, and the degree of emphasis placed on their respective positions. The key to the relevance of La Clemenza di Tito in Opera North's production, and the principal reason for its success here, lies in the consideration it gives to the relatively secondary characters of Annio and Servilia. There's good reason to assume that this is not just an arbitrary tweak that distorts the balance of the work, but that it does fit in closer to Mozart's own personal views and his distinctive approach to the work. While all the others are running around striving to further their own personal and political agendas (Vitellia to become Empress, Sesto to win the love of Vitellia, the recently appointed Tito to give his people firm, stable leadership), Annio and Servilia strike a balance between these opposing positions that seemingly cannot co-exist.
Tito's clemency at the end of the opera evidently lies at the heart of the work, mending the divisions that have been stirred up to have such terrible consequences. That healing comes about however through the intervention and selfless appeals of Annio and Servilia. Although they are indeed motivated by their love for each other, they are prepared to put their own happiness aside if it is ultimately for the greater good. Tito responds to the openness and honesty in Servilia pleas. She is the only one who speaks the plain truth that other yes-men in his inner-circle, too concerned about their own position, will not. It's Annio's honest, heartfelt appeals too that touch Tito much more than Sesto's belated regrets for his betrayal, as sincere as his sentiments may be. None of this takes anything away from the opposing contrasts that are so important in the work, or the reconciliation that takes place between them, but rather it makes their resolution just that little bit more meaningful and credible, to say nothing of truly humanistic.
It's to the credit then of Fulljames and Boyd that not only does the warmth of Mozart's writing for these parts and their importance come through, but it's not to the detriment of the other figures who are traditionally given a bigger billing. That was reflected in the way that the casting was not only strong for the main roles of Tito (Paul Nilon), Vitellia (Annemarie Kremer) and Sesto (Helen Lepalaan), but that attention was paid to singers of warmth of expression in the roles of Annio (Kathryn Rudge) and Servilia (Fflur Wyn), as well as the rather serious Publio (Henry Waddington). Not one of the performances felt like routine deliveries, but rather like their characters and personalities had been carefully thought through and given expression, without mannerism, in the smallest of details and gestures.
La Clemenza di Tito can still have challenges making a staging visually interesting and meaningful, but Conor Murphy's innovative designs and geometric lines suggested classical structures in a modern context. Back-projections and a rotating dividing screen that projected images and transformed from transparency to opacity, opened up and closed down spaces with perfect precision, working wonderfully in accord with the musical content, playing to the strengths of the work and the singers.
