Artistic Director Ryan Brown
Opera Lafayette: Idomeneo, rè di Creta
(an opera series in three acts)
May 29, 2006: Final preparations: a Mannheim crescendo...
From the conductor's point of view, the final preparations are some of the most satisfying because one really has to have the whole piece and all its details in mind at once, an intense process which often yields new musical insights. Many of the things I find most exciting about Idomeneo have to do with its freely flowing (and characteristically French) forms, from recitative to aria and/or chorus and dance. The recits are most often accompanied by the orchestra, and, in addition, something new often happens musically at the end of an aria to introduce the recit, or the recit may carry forward and transform some of the material in the aria. An aria may also metamorphose into a chorus or a chorus into a march, which has the effect of keeping the stage action continuous.
Mozart even moves seamlessly from the overture into the first recit. The simple magic of the transition is that the last chord of the overture (which has changed from a dramatic to contemplative mood at its close) serves as the chord from which Ilia's voice is introduced. One doesn't hear the accompanying keyboard instrument (the "continuo") until the next measure. Then, at the end of Ilia's recit and the beginning of her first aria, the harmony and rhythm are unstable until the fifth measure of the aria. In each case, we are in the new form before we realize it, and the effect perfectly matches Ilia's anxious monologue and unsettled state.
An aspect of characterization which I didn't fully appreciate until rather late in the learning process was the youthful innocence of Idamante established early in the opera, before and just after his first confusing confrontation with his father in Act I and well before his transformation in the great sacrificial scene of Act III. His opening aria is full of swelling lines and fitful starts and stops, while being harmonically relatively simple and texturally transparent. It has some similarities to Cherubino's "Non so piu," Mozart's great characterization of adolescence in his next opera, The Marriage of Figaro.
Another "French" aspect of this opera is its tone painting. An exquisite example of this is the way the orchestra simulates the caressing breezes in Ilia's aria at the opening of the third act, and to make it work, the strings must articulate their repeated notes with an especially gentle touch. On the other end of the emotional scale, Mozart's admiration for Rameau's storm scenes is evident in the rapid chromatic figuration and bold harmonies that characterize the dancers and chorus fearfully fleeing a tempest and monster at the end of Act II. Similarly, in Act I, it's hard to know which is more impressive -- Elettra's interior tempest metamorphosing into an external storm scene, or that storm subsiding into the lapping of the waves at the shore as we are introduced to Idomeneo, the exhausted survivor of a shipwreck.
The final chorus in Act I hints at a few important elements of the original performing circumstances of the opera by its text and music alone. The text says "Let Neptune be honored...with dances and sounds we must celebrate." Curiously, but perhaps typically, the supertitles we secured for the performance left out the word "dances." We reinserted it, as we have reinserted the dance itself during this wonderful and vivacious Ciaconna. Also, towards the end of the movement there is a very long crescendo which builds from nothing to a final climax. This kind of effect has been called a "Mannheim crescendo" in honor of the virtuoso orchestra for whom Mozart wrote the work. In the middle of it Mozart has the trumpets enter to the text "Now sound the trumpets," and after a dramatic pause, the movement closes with a four-bar pattern (a rock and roll staple) of satisfyingly static energy after tremendous development.
Actually making all this come to life with full orchestra, soloists, and the dance company becomes a mad intense dash in the final week, without any time for reflection, so this blog ends here. I hope through this blog you've gotten a glimpse of the intellectual process that leads us to the rehearsal stage, and that you will come enjoy the musical fruits of this process at our performances on June 2 and 3.
Posted by rbrown at 04:37 AM | Comments (2)
May 22, 2006: Finding the artists...
Finding the right group of artists for a particular piece is always an interesting process, starting from how one hears the score but always affected by innumerable practical considerations.
In the role of Ilia the Trojan princess I heard a tender vulnerability, and in Idamante, Idomeneo's son, a more commanding tone, but also a youthful one (a mezzo -- not a tenor as in the later Vienna version). Early on in the process I had two singers in mind for these roles and fortunately they were available. The role of Elettra is challenging to cast -- she has to be overwhelming and angry in her low range in the first and last acts, and yet sublimely sweet and high in the second. For this role I auditioned singers I hadn't heard before. Also, these three women sing together at times, and I wanted to hear three distinctive voices in the roles. It was even more challenging to find an Idomeneo -- a tenor whose voice has the weight the role demands, but who has the stylistic flexibility to work well with Opera Lafayette's approach and also the stamina to sing this role three nights in a row, which hall availability and our performance calendar dictated. Idomeneo's confidant Arbace needed to sing convincing recitative; La Voce (the Voice of Fate) needed to be a voice with a deep timbre; and the High Priest another forceful tenor, but in a cameo appearance.
The orchestra has just as many demands placed upon it as the singers, for Mozart was writing for the most virtuoso orchestra in Europe -- the Mannheim band recently transplanted to the Munich court. It was a small group, and our sections are just about the same size, though we don't have the opportunity to play together nearly as often as our historic predecessors. After some discussion as to whether pitch at the 1781 premiere was closer to A = 430 or A = 415, we committed to the higher pitch because the copies of period wind instruments which are available today (though still few and far between) make it easier to perform the work at the higher pitch. The higher pitch also encouraged our use of the fortepiano for the continuo recitatives, though it's true that I am partial to the sound and accompanying abilities of a very good fortepiano in this repertoire. In addition, we also needed as much flexibility on the stage in Dekelboum Hall as possible, and a harpsichord would have needed a cello to reinforce the sound. The placement of our first cellist with the keyboard player would have limited our options regarding where to place the singers, which in turn would have had a limiting effect on how much room the dancers would have had to move on stage. Another choice of orchestration we made was one Mozart faced too, and for similar reasons. Though he first orchestrated the appearance of the subterranean La Voce with three trombones, the court evidently complained of the expense involved in adding three instruments for a single short scene. Mozart then wrote a version for clarinets, bassoons, and horns -- instruments that were already used in the opera -- a choice we make for the same reason as the Munich Court.
The final preparations for a performance often bring some of the most frustrating as well as some of the most satisfying moments of a performer's work, as one tries to stay focused on creating the fullest possible experience of the music for everyone involved.
Posted by rbrown at 09:31 PM | Comments (0)
May 15, 2006: A Number of Choices To Be Made...
In Mozart and Varesco's Idomeneo of 1781 there are a number of choices to be made regarding cuts and alternate versions of musical and dramatic material. It seemed that one of the interesting things to do in approaching these choices was to go back and look at the opera's precedent - the version by Campra and Danchet from 1712. It also made sense to look at the circumstances surrounding Mozart's and Varesco's own composition. What turned out to be striking was that the Campra — Danchet was a more integrated drama, and that Mozart struggled with different ways of how best to present his own rather unwieldy third act, the act in which he and Varesco deviated the most from the earlier operatic version.
The Campra-Danchet is a true tragedy, in which Idomeneo kills his son Idamante, whereas Mozart and Varesco created an ending in which the horrible sacrifice is avoided. Similarly, jealousy permeates the earlier version, and the vengeful character of Elettra is supported by the plot, whereas Mozart's happy ending leaves her the odd woman out. These changes in the libretto seemed to offer Mozart dramatic and musical challenges which in some cases he responded to with one solution and then another. Practical and political considerations affected the drama too. It's weakened, for instance, by his accommodating a request to provide a significant role for a favorite singer at the Munich court - the tenor who was to play the character of Arbace, the king's confidant. The two arias which Mozart provided for Arbace are unconvincing and do not advance the story, though an accompanied recitative written for him describing the horrible fate of Crete is wonderfully gripping.
Shortly before the premiere on January 29 1781, Mozart apparently realized that that he had more material than was good for the progress of the drama. He then made several cuts, being ruthless with his own music in a way that we would rarely dare to be today, as practically every note he wrote seems a treasure. But it made sense to revisit Mozart's choices and imagine what effect they have on our experience of the opera. Should we keep Idomeneo's long final aria, or move straight from his recitative to the chorus and ballet, as Mozart decided to do for premiere? Do we retain Elettra's dramatic final aria, or choose the alternate accompanied recitative Mozart wrote, which solves several dramatic problems? Do we cut one of Arbace's arias, as Mozart did, and if so, why not his other aria as well? What about the gorgeous middle sections of the third act choruses Mozart deleted — do they advance or hinder the plot? Generally, we chose to follow Mozart's own inclinations in 1781, trying to keep the drama as focused as possible, though it meant cutting many wonderful pieces modern productions have reinserted. On the other hand, however, we chose to perform (with dance) the beautiful Passepied and Gavotte in the divertissement at the end of the first act, which are rarely heard in modern productions.
Most decisions about cuts had to come before vocal soloists were contracted, as no one wants to be hired and then afterwards told one of their favorite parts has been scrapped! Putting together the right singers and orchestra came next.
Posted by rbrown at 02:50 PM | Comments (2)
May 8, 2006: Our First Choices Were Made...
Opera Lafayette has performed the repertoire of Lully (late 17th century), Rameau (mid 18th century) and Gluck (later 18th century), and their contemporaries. This repertoire may be the largest body of great dramatic music that has not yet been incorporated into the repertoire of major American opera companies. For whatever reasons this may be — the preponderance of German and Italian immigrants contributing to 19th century America's musical culture, French opera's dance requirements, the difficulty of finding players of the period instruments that facilitate this repertoire, or the special relationship of the French language to dramatic recitative - the fact remains that the public is just beginning to know the joys of these operas again.
As the 250th anniversary of Mozart's birth was approaching, I asked myself what Opera Lafayette could bring to the understanding and appreciation of a composer, who, unlike those we've been dedicated to so far, needs no introduction?
An answer quickly presented itself. We would do Mozart's 'French' opera, Idomeneo, the one most influenced by Mozart's study of Rameau and Gluck, and the one which, though in Italian, was taken, often line by line, from a French libretto (Danchet's Idomenée, which Campra set around 1712.) And, not incidentally, Idomeneo is an opera of Mozart's which seemed to cry out for rethinking. Before I had seen a staged production of it, I noticed that those who had would invariably talk about how gorgeous the music was, but how long it all seemed. When I saw a DVD of the opera, I understood what they meant, but instinctively felt that, regarding length, it did not have to be this way. Most obviously, the production on video hadn't captured the essential balance of drama and divertissement, or intensity and release, which seemed to be built into this 'French' opera. Idomeneo needs the ballet and the exhilaration of movement to contrast with the agonizing story of a father forced to sacrifice his son.
Our first choices were made — we would do Idomeneo, and the form the performance would take — a concert version with dance, similar to performances we had done of operas by Lully and Gluck in the past — would offer by itself, without staging, a fresh perspective on the piece. The New York Baroque Dance Company, our longtime collaborator, was an obvious choice as I knew the director Catherine Turocy had already choreographed many of the dances in Idomeneo. I had played excerpts from the opera with her a number of years ago at Lincoln Center.
The next step would be figuring out which version of Idomeneo to perform.
Posted by dcroft at 12:49 AM | Comments (1)
