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.
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 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.
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”¿
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.”
Betulia Liberata (Mozart 22)
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.
Ascanio in Alba (Mozart 22)
“Ascanio in Alba” K. 111 came about through the good offices of Count Firmian, who had shared the Milan audience’s enthusiasm for “Mitridate” and exerted his influence on the Empress in Vienna. He suggested entrusting the young Mozart with the composition of a festa teatrale for the wedding of the Empress’s son, Archduke Ferdinand, and Maria Beatrice d’Este of Modena. Mozart began working on the score in late August 1771. Tailor-made for the royal wedding, the work’s main function was to portray the members of the Habsburg wedding party as generous, kindly rulers and virtuous heroes. For the creative team of the production shown at the Salzburg Festival but originating at the Nationaltheater Mannheim, this specificity proved to be a rewarding challenge. Since the audience had no pre-formulated expectations with “Ascanio,” director David Hermann and his stage and costume designer Christof Hetzer sought to draw out of this unknown opera the elements that are of particular interest to us today. The imaginative production – featuring a reduced chorus, a “movement chorus” and even a segment to be watched through 3D glasses – ideally complements the work, which is, after all, a festa teatrale and not an opera seria! We would hardly find a hero such as Ascanio in an opera seria: a puppet-like young man forced to follow orders and unable to determine his own life. And Silvia, his betrothed? She’s been in love for four years with a man she’s never seen… Luckily for us, the music to “Ascanio in Alba” is a delight from beginning to end. The 15-year-old Mozart felt free to ignore the strict conventions of the opera seria and culled his forms from a variety of sources such as concert arias, pastoral idylls, mass sections, recitatives both secco and accompagnato… The work radiates an irrepressible good nature and joy of life. Among the most highly praised roles in this production is the Faun, sung by Diana Damrau, the Queen of the Night in the Mozart 22 recording of “The Magic Flute.”
Apollo et Hyacinthus (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 a 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, who saw Zephyrus throw the discus, turns the true culprit into a wind. The dying Hyacinthus reveals the truth and Apollo consoles the mourning 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 Archbishop’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 Judgment – an instrumental color that will appear prominently in “Don Giovanni”…
Irrfahrten II: Abendempfindung (Mozart 22)
The Irrfahrten (Odysseys) trilogy comprises three independent, self-contained performances that are motivically interwoven into a compelling whole through a great variety of references. Various artistic genres – music, theater, dance and video – are fused into an original form of music theater that could very well point to the future. The trilogy was conceived by Joachim Schlömer, a noted dancer, choreographer and director. He sees his project as the “odyssey of an artist from external control to self-determination.” (Schlömer) This concerns not only Mozart himself, but also the artist in general, and, by extension, everyone who has overcome a crisis in their life to achieve their personal freedom. At the beginning of the trilogy is the twelve-year-old Mozart’s first opera buffa, “La finta semplice” (The Make-Believe Simpleton), a full-length opera with commedia dell’arte-style characters. “The music,” says Schlömer, “tells of wanting something – even if the characters still don’t really know what they want.” The second Odyssey, “Abendempfindung” (Evening Sensation), a pasticcio of Mozart arias, songs, instrumental pieces (including some for the rare and evocative glass harmonica) and letters. The great Ann Murray is the featured performer here. The third Odyssey, “Rex tremendus” presents a thought-provoking combination of two opera buffa fragments, “Lo sposo deluso” and “L’oca del Cairo,” along with various unfinished pieces and fragments from Mozart’s last work, the Requiem. It represents the artist’s ultimate liberation from the restrictions and conventions of society, his farewell from the world, in total darkness… Schlömer on his Odysseys: “It is about the path the artist follows from his entrance into adult life to a period of artistic crisis, comparable to the midlife crisis we all go through, and on to a fragmentation and liberation from all interpretation of the artist’s activity.” Irrfahrten / Odysseys is one of the most illuminating productions of the Mozart 22 cycle, one that makes Mozart’s genius shine in all of its facets.
Zaide & Adama (Mozart 22)
An abducted beauty in a harem, a noble rescuer from Europe, a merciless Muslim ruler – aren’t these the ingredients for Mozart’s “Die Entführung aus dem Serail”? Yes, but not only. They are also found in the fragment of a “Turkish” opera that Mozart wrote shortly before the “Entführung,” a work that was later given the title “Zaide.” The fragmentary nature and splendid music of “Zaide” have long stimulated enterprising artists to attempt completions or collages to make the work performable. For the Mozart 22 project, Salzburg Festival director Peter Ruzicka commissioned the Israeli composer Chaya Czernowin to produce a new work that stage director Claus Guth would then interweave with the “Zaide” fragment. In “Zaide” we have two lovers, Zaide and Gomatz, held prisoner in a harem in an imaginary past, somewhere in the Middle East… In “Adama” we have two lovers, a Woman and a Man, caught in the irreconcilable religious and political conflicts of today’s Middle East. Mozart’s themes are imprisonment, doomed love, culture clash and despotism; Czernowin’s are the same, but transported into our time. She tells of the love between an Israeli woman and a Palestinian man, a partnership doomed to fail in a world torn by violence. Czernowin approached her task with great reverence for Mozart’s work. ” Adama establishes a counterpoint to Zaide’s plot,” she says. “My contributions to this new ‘complete work’ are not traditional arias, but often fragments, musical pieces that are cut in the middle. […] Mozart’s excerpts alternate with elements from Adama and sometimes overlap as well: then the two scores are almost synchronized. In that sense, Adama is a mirror of Mozart’s Zaide.” While Ivor Bolton entices a fresh and spirited rendition of the Mozart score from the Mozarteum Orchestra in the pit, Johannes Kalitzke and the Österreichisches Ensemble für Neue Musik give a sharp and precise reading of “Adama” at the back of the stage. An outstanding cast gives performances of equal dramatic and vocal strength. Commenting on this experiment’s place in the Mozart 22 project, the Financial Times’ Shirley Apthorp declared that “Zaide – Adama stands out for its bold originality.”