Written in spring 1771, “Betulia Liberata” is an azione sacra, a sacred play in the style of the Italian oratorio. The libretto takes up the well-known biblical story of Judith and Holofernes. The Assyrian general and dictator is laying siege to the Jewish town of Betulia. He has the town surrounded and its water supplies cut off. While the Prince of Betulia, Ozias, and religious leaders discuss what to do, the widow Judith decides to act: she boldly strides into the enemy camp, where she wins Holofernes’ trust, arouses his senses and cuts off his head. The work was commissioned by Don Giuseppe Ximenes, Prince of Aragon, a member of a noble Spanish family living in Padua. Years later, in 1784, Mozart took a renewed interest in the work and planned to use some of its music for a new oratorio – proof of his satisfaction with music he had written at 15. The libretto is by Pietro Metastasio (1698-1782), the leading author of opera and oratorio texts of his day (who also penned the libretti to Mozart’s “Il re pastore,” “La clemenza di Tito” and “Il sogno di Scipione”). “Betulia Liberata” owes much to the composer’s early experiences with opera, especially “Mitridate,” and contains some strikingly prophetic features. One finds the conventional aria types of the opera seria such as the rage aria and the bravura aria; there are powerful choruses and a remarkable C minor aria with choral interjections. The work is preceded by a stormy D minor overture that foreshadows the Sturm und Drang atmosphere of the “little” G minor Symphony K. 183 of 1773. As befits an oratorio, the Salzburg production of “Betulia Liberata” is a semi-staged concert performance. The incisive playing of the Munich Chamber Orchestra under its early-music-inspired conductor Christoph Poppen provides the dynamic basis for the homogeneous cast headed by Jeremy Ovenden as Ozias, a demanding tenor part sung with nimble bravura, Marjana Mijanovic as a darkly hued and sensual Judith, Franz-Josef Selig as a profound Alchior and Julia Kleiter as a luminous Amital. Noteworthy is the rousing vitality of the Chorus of the Vienna State Opera.
Così fan Tutte (Mozart 22)
Women are like that, women act that way – no matter how you translate the words “Così fan tutte,” it boils down to this: women are impossible to understand! The philosopher Don Alfonso, however, believes he knows how to read women’s hearts and is ready to test his theory in a little experiment of love. When Ursel and Karl-Ernst Herrmann’s production of “Così” begins, we find Don Alfonso playing with fire. First it’s only a cigarette, but then it’s the flames of love that he’s stoking. And the instrument he’s using is ancient, well-worn and very effective: jealousy. Don Alfonso is convinced that the sweethearts of the two soldiers Ferrando and Guglielmo, Dorabella and Fiordiligi, would be unfaithful to them, given the opportunity. The two soldiers are convinced otherwise and bet with him. With the help of the young ladies’ maid Despina, Alfonso devises an elaborate scheme to make the two young women believe their lovers have gone off to the army. Then he brings back the two young men, now disguised as “Albanians.” Dorabella and Fiordiligi are smitten, and soon fall in love with the handsome strangers, but not with the “right” ones… In their light-footed, witty and poetic staging, the Herrmanns took advantage of the wide stage of the Grosses Festspielhaus to create a luminous and elegantly minimalist landscape dotted with a few sparing but stylish props. The lovers are portrayed with verve and compelling emotional confusion by Ana María Martinez (Fiordiligi) and Sophie Koch (Dorabella) as the two sisters, and Stéphane Degout (Guglielmo) and Shawn Mathey (Ferrando) as the cocky soldiers who learn that lying isn’t the best way to find out the truth. Thomas Allen (Don Alfonso) and the great Helen Donath (Despina) add their incomparable stage presence to the action. Conductor Manfred Honeck entices a wondrous delicacy and tenderness from the Vienna Philharmonic. Coming after “Figaro” (1786) and “Don Giovanni” (1787), “Così fan tutte” (1790) is the third of the magnificent trio of operas on libretti by Lorenzo da Ponte. “Così” has long been problematic on account of its libretto, which in earlier days was decried as immoral and in more recent times as politically incorrect. But the beauty of the music and the psychological truth at the heart of the text have ultimately redeemed this opera buffa, which Nikolaus Harnoncourt calls “the saddest opera in the world.”
Die Schuldigkeit des Ersten Gebotes (Mozart 22)
Mozart was eleven years old when he wrote “Apollo et Hyacinthus” K. 38 and “Die Schuldigkeit des ersten Gebots” (The Obligation to Observe the First Commandment) K. 35 in 1767. Their brevity and contemporaneity made it seem fitting to entrust them to one director for their stage interpretations within the Mozart 22 project. John Dew, known and admired for his rediscoveries of long-neglected works and his highly imaginative productions, has created a semi-ironic framework that ideally suits the two little pieces. They are given graceful musical accompaniment by the Symphony Orchestra of the Mozarteum University. “Apollo et Hyacinthus” is Mozart’s very first operatic venture and was commissioned soon after the successful performance of “Schuldigkeit”. “Apollo” is a Latin intermezzo that was intended as an insert between the prologue and the five-act school drama “Clementia Croesi”. Curiously, it already contains many of the themes that would recur in Mozart’s later operas: disguise, intrigue, transformation, self-discovery¿ The plot concerns Zephyrus’ love for Melia, who is about to marry Apollo. In his jealousy, Zephyrus gravely wounds Hyacinthus with a discus and, to have Apollo banished, accuses Apollo of murder. Apollo, how saw Zephyrus throw the discus, turns the true culprit into a wind. The dying Hyacinthus reveals the truth and Apollo consoles the mouring family by changing their son into a flower. “Die Schuldigkeit des ersten Gebots” is an allegorical drama in three parts that was first performed in the Archibishop’s residence in March 1767. Mozart composed the first part. The work is an offshoot of the 17th-century tradition of the Jesuit school drama in which the characters are purely symbolic. Here, the “lukewarm Christian” becomes the object of contention between two authorities. Worldliness tempts him with the pleasures of the senses; a trio formed by Justice, Mercy and Christian Spirit urges him to choose an active Christian life. Mozart included such subtle musical touches as a 3/4 dance rhythm and merry woodwinds deployed by Worldliness and an alto trombone that summons the hero to the Last Judgement – an instrumental color that will appear prominently in “Don Giovanni”¿
Die Zauberflöte (The Magic Flute) (Mozart 22)
“The Magic Flute” is Mozart’s most popular and beloved opera, and its melodies – from Papageno’s folkloric tunes to the Queen of the Night’s breathtaking coloraturas – are familiar even among non-listeners of classical music. In this production by Pierre Audi, however, it is the eyes and not the ears that first fall under the spell of this truly magical “Magic Flute.” From the illustration on the stage curtain to the incredible, wildly colored, primeval-looking monsters, animals and decorative elements on the stage, the production is dominated by the unmistakable expressive world of the Dutch artist and sculptor Karel Appel. A co-founder of the acclaimed Cobra Group, Appel developed a darkly expressionistic idiom and was the “secret dramaturge” of the production, says director Audi. Appel died at the age of 85 three months before the premiere of “Die Zauberflöte” at the Salzburg Festival. Blending smoothly into Appel’s exotic designs, director Pierre Audi’s production is neither a contemporization nor a deconstruction of Mozart’s German Singspiel, which was written in 1791 and was one of Mozart’s last works. Instead, Audi leaves the alleged stylistic breaks and unresolved conflicts between good and evil as they are and seeks to “give them a home,” as he puts it. He relates the fairy-tale story of the “Magic Flute” in a sensual and playful, but never childlike or childish way, using Appel’s sets as a component of his vision. While the sets may be a treat for the eyes, the music is a feast for the ears. Metropolitan Opera and La Scala star Diana Damrau shines as a Queen of the Night who effortlessly tosses out her coloraturas with dazzling accuracy. René Pape’s Sarastro is a worthy counterpart, a solemn figure with balsamic bass tones. Paul Groves’ supple tenor voice ensures a faultless Tamino next to the captivatingly natural lyricism of Genia Kühmeier’s Pamina. Christian Gerhaher is a welcome, almost restrained Papageno. His Papagena, Irena Bespalovaite, brings her fresh musicality to the ensemble. The Vienna Philharmonic is led with an expert hand by the great Riccardo Muti.
Don Giovanni (Mozart 22)
“Il dissoluto punito, ossia Il Don Giovanni” is the full title of the opera that is widely held to be the most perfect work of its genre. Luckily, it is known today merely as “Don Giovanni,” a title that far better evokes the hero in all of his seductive power, his disregard for the social order, his merry wantonness. It is this hero who fascinated Mozart, not the “dissoluto punito” – the “rake punished” – who harks back to the morals and conventions of the late 18th century. The work, again on a libretto by Lorenzo Da Ponte (like “Figaro” and “Così”), was written for Prague after “Figaro” had enjoyed such an overwhelming success in the Bohemian capital. It was premiered there on 29 October 1787. The opera’s perfect fusion of opera buffa and opera seria is suggested by its novel designation as a dramma giocoso, or merry drama. It is a moral tale of murder, sexual exploitation and betrayal that is lightened by comedic elements that infuse the whole with warmth and humanity. As sung by baritone Thomas Hampson, who made his international breakthrough as Don Giovanni under Harnoncourt in 1987, the title hero superbly incarnates the aging rake and emotional anarchist who’s seen and done everything. Ildebrando D’Arcangelo plays his servant without exaggeration, as an astute observer. While Melanie Diener dazzles as Donna Elvira, it is Christine Schäfer and Piotr Beczala who, with their powerful stage presence, give exceptionally unforgettable performances as Donna Anna and Don Ottavio. Director Martin Ku¿ej interprets “Don Giovanni” with compelling images that cast the rake as a child of today’s consumer society, a man who acquires women, uses them and disposes of them after consumption. Happiness can be bought – but the specter of retribution is never far away, as in the evocative “tableau vivant” of spent and broken high-society hedonists. Under the baton of young conductor Daniel Harding, the Vienna Philharmonic weave a fresh, transparent and jaunty musical fabric that underscores every nuance of passion and despair, as well as every shading of wit and humanity that make “Don Giovanni” a work of unequalled artistry.
Die Entführung aus dem Serail (Mozart 22)
The plot couldn’t be simpler: the Spanish nobleman Belmonte must free his fiancée Konstanze, her English maid Blonde and Belmonte’s servant Pedrillo from the clutches of the Turkish Bassa, or Pasha, Selim. Belmonte must sneak into the pasha’s seraglio and sneak back out again, all the while eluding and outsmarting Osmin, the overseer of the harem. With his Salzburg production of 2003, young Norwegian director Stefan Herheim raised a storm of controversy that continued to crackle in 2006, when the production was revised for the Mozart 22 cycle. The controversy was largely due to the fact that Herheim transposed the events to the inner world of the human psyche. The harem is no longer a real harem, but a psychological place of longing and desire, enticing and yet threatening at the same time. The entire exotic, Janissary scenery gives way to the more familiar images of one’s own sexual urges and impulses. The production revolves around the question: how does a man get a woman? To get to the bottom of this age-old question, Herheim shows how men and women try to seek happiness together and fail since they are caught in conventions and subservient to their inner demons – illustrated here by Osmin as priest and devil. “It is a genesis, the beginning of all beginnings, when man is separated into two sexes, is disoriented, and from then on seeks to return to his original form in ever new constellations,” explains Herheim. Giving powerful accounts of their difficult roles is a top-notch cast dominated by Laura Aikin as Konstanze and Charles Castronovo as Belmonte. With her elegiac Andante arias, Aikin is an oasis of calm and nobility. Castronovo suggests his own vulnerability with his wonderfully lyrical timbre. At the head of the Mozarteum Orchestra, Ivor Bolton once again confirms his reputation as a dynamic and sensitive interpreter of Baroque and Classical operas. The clarity and wisdom of his music-making provide an astute contrast to the turbulent activity on stage. Indeed, the marriage of orchestra and voices evokes the image of the stage of life: on the surface, everything is in motion; below, order rules – but it is an order that is often lost in everyday life.
Everything for Dawn
Written over three years by 15 librettists and composers, this 10-episode serial represents a radical new approach to opera. Bringing together different musical styles and voices, and shot in a sound stage, Everything for Dawn is a mesmerizing synthesis of streaming television and theatrical spectacle. It is an original coming-of-age story spanning the 1990s. Dawn is a teenager dealing with the impact of her father’s suicide and her personal tragedy becomes public when his paintings become celebrated as “outsider art”. With each episode, the opera is an examination of the ways we seek solace in a broken world, community intersectionality, and the rationale for making art. Soprano Britt Hewitt in the role of Dawn, baritone Aaron Engebreth as her father Mac and mezzo-soprano Sishel Claverie as her mother Gloria, as part of a cast of eight, are backed by a six-piece music ensemble. “‘Everything for Dawn’ stretches the boundaries of genre and storytelling to recalibrate opera for the twenty first century.”Opera News
Die Entführung aus dem Serail
La Finta Giardiniera (Mozart 22)
“My opera … was such a success that it is impossible for me to describe the applause to Mamma,” wrote Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart to his mother from Munich on 14 January 1775, the day after the premiere of his new opera buffa, “La finta giardiniera” (The Make-Believe Gardener) K. 196. Written for the Munich carnival season, it is not only the first example of a combination of buffa and seria roles in Mozart’s music, but it also carries its plot of pretense, disguise and surprising revelations to the brink of catastrophe. Belfiore believes he has killed his betrothed, Violante, in a fit of jealousy. He flees in panic – which does not prevent him from falling for Arminda, who then spurns her admirer Ramiro in favor of Belfiore. Violante, meanwhile, searches for her lover with her servant Roberto. Under a false name, she takes a post as gardener on the estate of Don Anchise; her servant passes himself off as her cousin. While Anchise pursues Violante, Roberto romances the maid. The labyrinth of pursuit and deception becomes completely entangled when Belfiore, his new conquest Arminda and her persistent admirer Ramiro turn up on the estate… The Mozart 22 production of “La finta giardiniera” was placed in the hands of Doris Dörrie, a noted filmmaker (“Men”) and, more recently, director of controversial opera productions (“Rigoletto” in Munich). Asked why she set the work in a garden center, Dörrie replied: “It’s a market of emotions! The plants represent feelings, the garden is our little paradise. […] We all have the same dream …, which is why we buy so much equipment, chemicals, even weapons to keep our garden under control. It must be kept in its boundaries, for just as an uncontrolled garden can mutate into a wild jungle, so can uncontrolled emotions, proliferating like wild plants, become dangerous to us.” The rousing musical underpinnings of this irreverent production are provided by the Mozarteum Orchestra under its principal conductor Ivor Bolton, who has made a name for himself as champion of authentic and spirited interpretations of Handel, Monteverdi, Gluck and, of course, Mozart. In this performance of “La finta giardiniera,” Bolton makes it clear that the real dramatic development in this early work is to be found in Mozart’s music.
Capriccio
When the curtain fell at the Paris Opera premiere of Capriccio, the audiences rose to long and frenetic ovations. They unanimously applauded each singer in a cast of stars, but Renée Fleming was undoubtedly the leading light of this remarkable production. Every one of the performers in this production is outstanding and can be regarded as the best possible singer for the role – Opera fans from all over the world came to Paris to see this production.
This Capriccio also served as a role debut for American star soprano Renée Fleming who took on the role of the Gräfin. The critics celebrated her performance as “ideal” in all aspects: musically, dramatically and above all
vocally and she was cheered frenetically by the audience at the Palais Garnier of the Opéra National de Paris.
Dietrich Henschel had critics raving about his sensitively sung Graf, Anne Sofie von Otter won audiences over with her highly ironic interpretation of the singer Clairon. Rainer Trost presented himself both as a true actor and as a versatile tenor in the role of the composer Flamand, Gerald Finley gave a very convincing poet Olivier and Franz Hawlata was described by a critic as “a glowing” La Roche. Altogether a true ensemble of stars!