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lopehernanchacon · 6 years

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Lope Hernan Chacón: A great big present: Stephen Medcalf on returning to Buxton to direct his favourite piece, Idomeneo

Mozart: Idomeneo – rehearsals for Buxton Festival – the festival chorus (Photo Richard Hubert Smith)

With his production of Mozart’s Idomeneo for the 2018 Buxton Festival (Idomeneo opens on 8 July 2018), director Stephen Medcalf is coming full circle in a number of ways. Whilst he has never directed the opera before he worked on it very early in his career, on Trevor Nunn‘s production of the opera at Glyndebourne in the 1980s (Nunn’s first opera production) where Medcalf was a young assistant director. And Medcalf’s first job as an assistant director was at Buxton, where he worked with director Malcolm Fraser (who co-founded the festival) on Kodaly’s Hary Janos (with a cast which included Alan Opie, Cynthia Buchan and Linda Ormiston) and would go on to work on Cimarosa’s Il Matrimonio Segreto the next year with Lesley Garrett.

During rehearsal for Idomeneo, I recently met up with Stephen to learn more about this thoughts on directing Idomeneo.

Mozart: Idomeneo – Stephen Medcalf in rehearsal for Buxton Festival (Photo Richard Hubert Smith)

After his early period at Buxton, Stephen returned to Buxton in the 2000s to direct a sequence of Donizetti operas with Andrew Greenwood conducting, and then for Stephen Barlow (artistic director of the festival since 2011) he has directed Gluck’s Orfeo ed Euridice, Beethoven’s Leonore [see my review] and now Idomeneo.

Idomeneo is an opera that Stephen has always wanted to direct, it is the only major Mozart opera which has so far escaped him. He is thrilled to be doing it at Buxton where the Opera House is a perfect size for performing Mozart. He calls Idomeneo opera seria but not as we know it. Despite the opera seria form, Mozart uses a lot of devices to make it flow, thus advancing the form and transforming opera seria considerably. Stephen sees the work as very forward-looking, anticipating Mozart’s later operas, and he cites the way the storm in Elettra’s heart becomes the storm of the shipwreck.

Having directed the Mozart/Da Ponte opera and The Magic Flute three or four times each, Stephen finds the seeds of all the later operas in Idomeneo, you keep hearing echoes of phrases from these later pieces in the opera. And Stephen finds it extraordinary that Idomeneo was written by one so young, given the endless links to the later operas and the real insight into the characters. In order to keep the evening to under three hours, they have inevitably had to make cuts though Stephen feels that they have been clever about these and have created what he calls ‘a very punchy evening’, which he is very excited about.

Mozart: Idomeneo – Heather Lowe rehearsals for Buxton Festival (Photo Richard Hubert Smith)

Without a budget for large spectacle, Stephen feels that this avoids one of the areas where directors can come unstuck in the opera by concentrating too much on spectacular effects. Instead, he is taking a psycho-drama approach, as the characterisation in the opera is so rich he is using this to give insight into the extraordinary human characters.

Stephen points out that nowadays society is far more secular than it was in Mozart’s day, and few people believe the explicit religious imperatives of the plot. Instead, Stephen is exploring the real motivation underlying the religious symbols, what they actually symbolise. He cites Idomeneo’s guilt; he sends 100s of young men to their death yet his son survives, and the oath that he takes reflects this suffering. This approach takes Idomeneo into the realms of PTSD, and Stephen calls the piece a really extraordinary psychological study.

Stephen points out that people suffering from PTSD that people do hear voices, and the psychosis can lead to self-harm. In Idomeneo, Stephen translates that into Idomeneo’s attitude to his son, he cannot harm himself any more so he harms his son. But Stephen is taking a non-specific approach, and it is up to the audience to decide whether Idomeneo is really possessed by the god Neptune, but by implication he simply hears voices. You don’t have to deny the presence of the monster, but it is what happens inside of Idomeneo’s head which really interests Stephen rather than the possibility of spectacle with the scene of the monsters.

Mozart: Idomeneo – Ben Thapa & Rebecca Bottone in rehearsals for Buxton Festival (Photo Richard Hubert Smith)

For Stephen, none of the characters in the opera is predictable. Ilia is a romantic, yet is as tough as old boots and resists her own sentiment, finding the courage to sacrifice herself for Idamante. With Elettra, Stephen finds it too easy to portray her as a crazy fury and harridan. Her middle aria says that she is seductive, sexy and heartwarming, whilst her two other arias suggest that when pushed to extremes she will snap, though in mitigation there is her extraordinary family trauma (with her brother Orestes killing her mother Clytemnestra in revenge for Clytemnestra’s murder of their father Agamemnon). So that whilst there is almost a girlish quality to the middle aria, she snaps in the last one.

Whilst most of the characters have already gone through extraordinary suffering, which can give a schizophrenic aspect to their character, Idamante has not suffered yet and so he is the character which develops the most over the course of the opera. He starts off rather naive, he just does not understand the weight of history which troubles Ilia. Through her, he learns what suffering is, and come to understand that the only way to save the nation is to sacrifice himself. We see how he grows through the opera and becomes worthy of taking over from Idomeneo.

Stephen fell into directing opera by accident. His first job was as ASM at the Royal Nothern College of Music (RNCM). He took the job not because it was opera, but he wanted to work in the theatre and needed to get his Equity Card! At the RNCM he met Malcolm Fraser, who founded the Buxton Festival and simply fell in love with opera. This was a strong period at RNCM where the students included Jane Eaglen, Paul Nilon (who sings the title role in Buxton’s Idomeneo), Louise Winter and Anne Dawson.

Having directed only plays at University, at the RNCM Stephen completely fell in love with opera as an art form, but he comes from a musical family so his love of opera is not completely surprising. He went on to do a post-graduate course at the London Drama School, but he had already formed lots of contacts including with Buxton, Wexford and Glyndebourne festivals, and he would go on to become a staff director at Glyndebourne.

Gluck: Orfeo ed Eurydice – Michael Chance – directed by Stephen Medcalf at the Buxton Festival 2014 (Photo Robert Workman)

Stephen doesn’t have a specific directorial style. He works with a lot of different designers and feels that a strong directorial style can often come out of the design aspects of the production. He does feel that he takes a reasonably honest approach to the works, with detailed personen regie. He prefers not to overcomplicate things or be too elaborate, with not too much hi-tech. When working with singers, he respects the vocal lines, and always starts with the music. He aims for simplicity and clarity of storytelling.

It is perhaps important to mention here that Stephen is married to a singer (soprano Susan Gritton) which gives him an understanding of what singers go through. He calls it one of the hardest jobs and points out that there is nowadays a requirement to be a first class actor and singer. He does add that there are always great voices which escape the requirement of being a good actor, but most singers are expected to be good all round. Stephen points out how vulnerable the voice is, how easily a cold, emotion or stress can affect it, not to mention the sheer effort to produce the sound. This has given him a real respect for singers.

Peter Hall, with whom he worked at Glyndebourne, was a big influence on Stephen. He learned from Peter Hall’s whole approach and then worked out what worked for him. Stephen also worked on Trevor Nunn’s production of Porgy and Bess at Glyndebourne, they were virtually the only two white people involved in the staging. He describes it as a very special show, getting standing ovations every night.

Stephen learned a lot from Peter Sellars at Glyndebourne, Stephen calls him an extraordinary talent both as a musician, and a human being. Sellers has the ability to charm and befriend the whole company, and would know the name for the third stage-crew from the back! Stephen tries to embrace this approach, acknowledging every single member of the company, and the fact that Stephen did two years as an ASM at the RNCM certainly influences this attitude and whilst at the RNCM, Stephen benefited from working with Tim Albery. But he goes on to add that perhaps you learn more, in a different way, from directors whom you don’t respect!

Stuart Laing, Kristy Swift & ensemble – Beethoven’s Leonore directed by Stephen Medcalf at the 2016 Buxton Festival – photo Robert Workman

Finally, whilst talking about directorial influences, Stephen returns to Malcolm Fraser from whom he learned the building blocks of his trade. And so, returning to Buxton to direct his favourite piece with a super cast feels like a great big present.

Further ahead he has Handel’s Ariodante in Passau, Hansel and Gretel at Grange Park Opera (in a production originally at the RNCM), Carmen in Cagliari and La Gioconda.

The Buxton International Festival runs from 6 to 22 July 2018. Stephen Medcalf’s new production of Mozart’s Idomeneo opens on 8 July 2018 at Buxton Opera House, with Paul Nilon as Idomeneo, Rebecca Bottone as Ilia, Heather Lowe as Idamante, Madeleine Pierard as Elettra and Ben Thapa as Arbace, with Nicholas Kok conducting the Northern Chamber Orchestra. Full details from the festival website.

Elsewhere on this blog:

Handel’s finest arias for base voice – Christopher Purves, Jonathan Cohen and Arcangelo (★★★★★) – CD review

Story-telling in America: Verdi’s Un ballo in maschera at Grange Park Opera (★★★★) – Opera review

Each a world unto itself: Arvo Pärt The Symphonies (★★★★) – CD review

Intimate, candid and completely fascinating: The Tchaikovsky Papers – unlocking the family archive (★★★★) – book review

Notable debuts & a veteran director: Die Entführung aus dem Serail from the Grange Festival – opera review

Vivid drama: Handel’s Agrippina at The Grange Festival (★★★★★) – opera review

Rip-roaring fun: Elena Langer’s Rhondda Rips It Up! (★★★★) – music theatre review

Debut: Soprano Chen Reiss sings her first staged Zerlina for her Covent Garden debut – interview

Powerfully uplifting: Bach’s Mass in B minor from the Dunedin Consort (★★★★★) – concert review

Brilliant ensemble: Cole Porter’s Kiss me Kate from Opera North (★★★★½) – music theatre review

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#Lope Hernan Chacón

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monotonous-minutia · 4 years

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top 10 favorite new-to-you operas of 2020 and top 10 favorite overall opera productions (which can be ones you’ve watched before 2020) of 2020, as well as why! (take all the time and space you need to answer this one)

thanks!! :)

top 10 favorite new-to-me operas (tried to remember the order in which I first watched them, but I could be wrong): La fille du régiment Just a really fun, humorous, adorable opera with a great cast of lovable characters and some really slappy tunes. Les Huguenots This one went onto my list of top favorite operas almost immediately. Another cast of amazing characters (aside from the really despicable villain), especially some lovely leading ladies; adorable trouser role who gets two (preferably) arias; some really gorgeous music; and an absolutely devastating tragic ending that's so powerful and meaningful. Idomeneo The ladies are fighting over the mezzo; Idamante is one of the cutest and purest opera characters EVER; incorporates Greek Mythology which is one of my favorite things; great cast of characters (though Idomeneo himself still drives me crazy); very sapphic; lovely relationship between the main couple (kinda enemies-to-friends-to-lovers); and again some really great music La clemenza di Tito TWO mezzo bois; very VERY gay on all levels; angst with a happy ending (though depending on the production the ending can be more ambiguous than happy); entire cast of Disaster Bis; one of the smartest sopranos in the world (Servilia); lovely portrayals of loyalty and friendship; and, of course, some AMAZING music. Cendrillon Mezzo love. That's pretty much all I need to say. But also it's got a lot of my favorite things: the libretto is super poetic and beautiful; the music is absolutely fantastic at evoking the fairy tale feel, especially in the scene in the forest; wonderful lovable characters; and simply ethereal music and singing for the leading ladies. Chérubin it's the adventures of our dear Cherubino, what more could I want? How can I not love an opera that's all about this wonderful disaster child? It's so lighthearted and fun and sweet and also just really spot-on hilarious. I was laughing my head off the entire time. Plus it's Massenet so the music is gorge, especially the mezzo music :D Benvenuto Cellini Not least because it introduced me to one of my favorite trouser roles, but also because (as we've discussed) it has basically everything you need in a (not-tragic) opera: fantastic cast of lovable, wonderful characters; exciting and somewhat angsty plot; joyous happy ending; really cute and pure lead couple; adorable trouser role; Disaster Bi hilarious semi-villain you just can't help but love; some really fantastic music; and so much fun and hilarity in general. La Rondine I give this one props because it somehow made me bawl my eyes out even though no one dies. And of course it's the whole Puccini "let's pretend this thing is an operetta for an hour and a half :) and make everything all lighthearted and happy :) and have everyone just have a great time singing some wonderful music :) and then break everyone's heart in the last half hour and leave them obliterated." Also that ensemble in Act II just makes me CRY even though it's like the happiest bit of the opera?? it's just so freaking pretty omg. Alcina Props for being one of the frickin gayest operas on the planet. Also contains one of my favorite pieces of music ever in the history of ever. In general has a lot of opportunities for folks being gay as heck. Oronte can fall off the face of the earth, though. Also I am a sucker for Handel in general. Plus mezzos loving mezzos. Can't go wrong with mezzos loving mezzos. (Yeah, I know technically Rugierro can be played by a countertenor, but I don't watch those ones ;p ) The plot is still "WTF???" in my head, but does that really matter when it's basically one nonstop gay mess? Die Fledermaus Really don't understand how this took so long to get into my life (especially because German operetta was my Thing back in the day) but now that it's in my life I love it to pieces. One of the most iconic trouser roles ever, and an entire cast full of lovable buffoons, as well as just one bop after another. Plus a really slapstick plot. Basically laughed through the entire show.

10 favorite overall opera productions of 2020: It was so hard to narrow this one down! I've seen so many amazing opera productions this year. To make it a little easier for me, I tried to focus on productions of operas that weren't new to me this year (though I HAD to put the Pelly Cendrillon on here. I couldn't not) so I could focus more on the production itself. These ones aren’t in any particular order bc I’m lazy:

Sher Hoffmann (Met 2009/2015) Surprise, surprise. I simply adore the production, set, costumes, staging, etc.--all so wonderfully weird and delightfully eccentric, without distracting from the very odd and complicated story. Plus, I love the casts in both performances, esp. Kate Lindsey but you knew that already ;) Sher Barbiere (Met 2017) Three words: DiDonato. Flórez. Mattei. Plus Del Carlo and Relyea and it's Sher so really, where can it possibly go wrong?? It's an absolute delight from beginning to end that just takes all the comedic gold from the story and runs with it, and, as with his Hoffmann, provides a delightfully eccentric set and staging without being distracting. Salzburg 2013 Don Carlo Super gay, amazing cast, beautiful production, contains material not seen many other places, and introduced me to Maria Celeng's Tebaldo, which will undoubtably forever be my favorite. Did I mention how gay it is? Garsington 2017 Nozze A really fun, charming, heartwarming, and beautiful staging of one of my favorite operas. I love the cast and set and costumes and that people in general are pretty nice to Cherubino, and the Count isn't as creepy or mean as in some productions, and has some legit nice moments with Rosina during the opera so his apology at the end actually comes across as kinda genuine. In particular I love the really adorable Figaro and Susanna (individually adorable, as well as being a really adorable couple) and Cherubino. Pelly Cendrillon (Met 2018/ROH 2010) Super gorgeous production that does an amazing job evoking the fairy tale feel. Not thrilled with 100% of the choreography but I love pretty much everything else about it--the sets, the staging, the cast (especially the Met cast, though there is one little detail in the ROH one I like better) and even the lighting are super intricate and effective. Munich 2011 Hoffmann Just a really delightfully weird take on this opera, with a great cast, some fantastic singing, hilarious sets and costumes, and some quirky staging and edit choices that make it really unique and fun. Met 2017 (Sher) Roméo et Juliette I should basically just say everything by Sher is my favorite now huh? I legit want to write this guy some fan mail because his work (especially for Hoffmann) has in a lot of ways just been really meaningful to me. I didn't even like this opera until I saw this production. It's so GORGEOUS and timeless and yet simple and sweet, and the cast is to die for. Met 2017 Norma Flippin gay, that's really all I need to say, oh my lord. Plus the cast is amazing. Honeslty don't remember much about the sets or costumes, I just remember how amazingly gay it is. Met 2009 Orfeo ed Euridice The dancing in particular is what draws me to this one, but also the expansive moving sets and some really heartbreaking choreography and blocking. Side note, I know a lot of people are annoyed with Amor's outfit, but I love how ridiculous her sparkly pink ensemble is compared with the sombre outfits of the leading cast (and chorus representing all those famous dead people historical figures). I mean, she's basically Cupid, right? When has Cupid every been spiffy or dignified? Plus the whole thing is super gay and really underrated in my opinion. Bonus: Stephanie Blythe is now hands-down my favorite Orfeo. La Scala 1995 Hoffmann Set and costumes are okay, effective but not particularly memorable, but holy lord is this one GAY as hell. That's my favorite thing about it, plus much of the cast (Mentzer and Shicoff, obviously, as well as Natalie Dessay being my favorite Olympia and Denyce Graves being one of my top favorite Giuliettas). There are a few kind of weird things about the staging, and the edit is far from being my favorite, but I adore how fully it embraces every aspect of gay that this opera presents. Plus it's one of the few I've seen that actually has a legit nice ending (others being Munich and Sher).

Thanks for the ask, sorry it got kinda long!

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monotonous-minutia · 4 years

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ALL OF THEM (someone asked me to do that so I’m passing it along to you)

thank you!! Just managed to finish this before the kiddo woke up :)

1. favourite performance you ever attended

I’ve been to exactly 3 opera performances, and one was technically an intermezzo, and I’d say that one because it was a surprise that my teeny tiny home town that doesn’t even have an opera house despite being the third largest city in the state would do a production of a super obscure piece that I happened to love, AND it was in English with a hilarious translation, AND that translation happened to be by a friend of mine who worked at the theater that put it on (which is also the theater that turned me gay). The intermezzo in question was La serva padrona (which is fantastic look it up) and it was translated to Maid to Marry which I will never not get a kick out of.

2. a performance you would’ve wanted to attend (present or past)

Literally anything Mentzer has done that hasn’t been filmed which is unfortunately a lot (she was Idamante??? And Octavian?? And Adalgisa??? and Rosina?? and Prince Charmant with Frederica von Stade in Cendrillon??? seriously universe get your shit together she deserves more recognition)

3. a piece perfect for your commute

anytime I take a long walk I listen to Hoffmann, almost anytime I drive I listen to my mezzo boi playlist that consists of all my favorite trouser role arias/duets etc. (so, like, every one that I’ve heard)

4. do you have a go-to opera (and version)?

lately Hoffmann and Idomeneo (the latter of which I still think should be called Illia e Idamante or just Idamante but I digress). Versions would be: for Hoffmann, Sher (2009 & 2015), La Scala ‘95, and Brussels ‘85 and for Idomeneo Met 2017 and Salzburg 2006.

5. an opera you loved only on the second listening

as mentioned earlier, Idomeneo

5. a composer you have tried and failed to like

again not really sure bc I’ve liked most of what I heard, but I don’t really vibe with Glass

6. a character you love and definitely never want to meet in real life

Possibly Elizabeth from Don Carlo(s); love her because she’s wonderful and deserves so much better, but wouldn’t want to meet her because we would probably just cry a lot.

7. following up on that: your guilty problematic favourite character

hmmmmmm maybe Eboli?

8. forget anatomy/physiology. which voice category/fach would you choose?

mezzo :D

9. a casting/singer’s voice you’ll defend to the death. (now tell us why)

Nadine Sierra. Seriously people have been so mean to her in comments/reviews lately and it’s just rude because she’s amazing and adorable and talented and definitely one of my favorite divas, reins in my heart as my second favorite Countess Almaviva and is my favorite Illia and I want to see her as everything. People don’t even have anything specific about her to critique, they just say she’s bad. Which, it’s okay to just not like a performer, but don’t bash them because you personally don’t like them. Erg. Her voice and expressions SLAY me and she deserves only positivity.

10. and a production you’ll defend to the death

Sher Hoffmann. People are so mean to it in the reviews! I think it’s utter genius and the sets and costumes are so eccentric and fit the aesthetic of the opera so well, and the casts are amazing--anyone who wants to criticize Lindsey or Calleja can back off and never return. Also to all the critics who complain that it’s too risqué, they have obviously never seen the Geneva 2008 one where the chorus spends a good part of the opera almost fully nude, as does Olympia. Sher’s Hoffmann is my favorite and as the question states I will defend it to the death.

11. something you’re a rigid traditionalist (or revolutionary) about?

I’m kind of a traditionalist for ballet scenes in opera. I get it can be hard to stage those extended musical bits that aren’t as welcome now as they were back in the day, but how is it helping to make the choreography weird and irrelevant? I’d rather just have the ballet removed altogether than suffer through some weird staging. If a production retains the ballet, I would either like to just see some pretty dancing (actually, the Troyens that just streamed last night is a good example of that imo), or something related that’s also kinda funny (like the Wiener 2020 Don Carlos, though I’m not 100% okay with everything in it) or something that makes a statement about the opera (like the 2006 Salzburg Idomeneo, which I wrote a really long thing about earlier). My favorite choreography in any opera so far though is Mark Morris’s super awesome genderfluid choreography for the Met 2009 Orfeo ed Euridice because it’s just some really pretty dancing and also very gay.

12. an opera that made you have an ~*awakening*~ of sorts (any sort)

Don Carlo(s), you probably know why by now 😉

13. an opera/music debate do you know so much about that people will suspiciously ask “why...do you know this?”

Probably Hoffmann and its various edits

14. rant about a topic/an opera you love but haven’t found a good time to do so on your blog.

I’m not really a fan of countertenors in castrati roles. I’ve seen some countertenor performers that I like, and some productions with them that I’ve enjoyed, but I really need my mezzo bois. I know there’s not really enough to justify one over the other, given the original voice type is now nonexistent, but I will take any opportunity to infuse more sapphic energy into operas. Plus, I just like the sound of the mezzo voice better. And a LOT of my favorite mezzos have played those roles and I seriously don’t know what I’d do without Alice Coote’s Idamante or Elīna Garanča’s Sesto. If a role was specifically written for a countertenor—I see this more in modern opera, Adès in particular—that’s a different story. I enjoy those. But for Baroque/opera seria, I wanna see mezzos.

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monotonous-minutia · 4 years

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same rules as last time, another topic.

Taking advantage of this one to ramble a little on something that’s been on my mind since I saw the ending of the 2006 Salzburg Idomeneo. Pardon my lit crit nerdiness. Also TW for discussions of mental illness and suicidal ideation (in the context of the opera).

Under the line because it got really long…if only I could find this much motivation for my philosophy papers.

At the end of this production, during the ballet music written to represent Idamante’s coronation, they used it as an opportunity to give us some adorable flirting with Idamante and Ilia after the big final chorus and everyone being happy and relieved. I loved that; this opera is so full of angst we don’t get much calm or sweetness aside from Ilia’s aria at the top of Act III (which is still kinda angsty) and the following duet with Idamante. So it was nice to see them finally relaxed and able to enjoy each other’s company without the looming crisis and heavy amounts of despair.

But then at the very very end we get this moment where they both come to an abrupt pause when Idamante sees the ax his father was going to use to kill him with for the sacrifice. Because Idomeneo is the epitome of Useless Tenor, he decided to just leave it lying around.

Idamante just stops in his tracks and stares at it. Ilia sees it too and then she immediately looks at Idamante to see his reaction, and he stares back at her for a minute. They both start to back away and Idamante looks back at the ax and puts his hands to his neck.

First time around this blindsided me and I started freaking out because I thought maybe someone was going to do something with the ax after all—both Elettra and Idomeneo were wandering around in the background at this point so there was a lot of possibility. Or maybe even Neptune. He did give Elettra a dagger, after all, presumably to encourage her to use it on herself. (Arbace in that moment proved himself to be the only tenor with half a brain cell and took it away from her.)

Thankfully nothing along those lines happened, but I was angry that the directors made my mind go there and upset that we couldn’t just give Idamante and Ilia the peaceful happy ending they so deserve by this point.

But the more I thought of it, I started to respect the decision to put that part in there. It does something that none of the other productions I’ve seen have done—it gives us a vivid look into Idamante’s mind in terms of his trauma, which would very likely occur after such a dramatic series of events. And it got me thinking.

Idamante is very clearly depressed in this piece. Pretty much every opera character ever talks frequently about their emotional pain and grief, but basically 50% of Idamante’s lines are about how sad he is about pretty much everything. Almost every time he exits the stage directions say he does so “sadly” or “in despair.” He talks about wandering aimlessly until he dies, seeing no purpose in his life.

He does have moment of happiness—when he thinks his father is coming home, when he finds out he’s alive, when he finds out Ilia loves him, and even when he realizes he’s going to have to die to save his people. But the first experience we have of Idamante is basically him telling Ilia that he wants to die. This is a sentiment he makes more than once throughout the course of the opera.

In the beginning, he’s celebrating the end of the war and the fact that he can free the prisoners, and his father will be coming home soon. But he’s distracted by the fact that he’s in love with Ilia—whom he does not know loves him in return, because she hates his people on principle for being the enemies of her family (not that we can really blame her for that). She’s reluctant to show feelings for him. As we will learn, Idamante (following operatic convention) perceives the world in extremes; she’s cold towards him which makes him think she hates him. The war is over, his people are at peace, he’s making the executive decision to set the prisoners free so they can live in harmony with his people. Despite all this, he’s distracted by the despair he feels about his relationship (or lack thereof) with Ilia. A depressed mind can’t always find enough comfort in the good stuff to use it as motivation. And she apparently wants him dead. Being a people-pleaser, he offers to let that happen. He just wants to hear her ask it herself. Possibly because he secretly thinks she’s too nice to actually ask that. And if she’s in a place that she would, or even kill him herself, he’s in trouble anyway, so why stick around?

I’m not saying this is solid logic; it’s opera logic.

The second time he says he wants to die is right before his love duet with Ilia. By this point he’s been rejected by his father multiple times and he still thinks Ilia hates him. His people don’t need him, because the king has returned, and aside form that he’s being sent away anyway. He just found out there’s a terrible monster (which gets no other description) running around destroying things and Idomeneo isn’t doing anything about it. So he plans on going after it himself and notes that even if he does mange to kill it, he’s probably going to die in the process, and he’s okay with that because he feels no hope in his life.

Ilia finally tells him she doesn’t want him to die because she actually does love him. Don’t ask me why it took her so long to say this when she’d already asked Idomeneo to basically adopt her an entire act earlier.

Idamante finally feels like he has something to live for. His father might hate him, his kingdom may not need him, but if Ilia wants to be a part of his life, he has a purpose again. This joy does not last very long, though. Idomeneo, who seems to have a habit of coming when he’s not needed and staying away when he is, shows up and interrupts their duet so abruptly that every time the track ends on my mezzo playlist I get whiplash. Idomeneo is upset that Ilia loves Idamante, because that’s just one more person that’s going to be hurt when he sacrifices Idamante. Once again, however, he refrains from telling people what the heck is actually going on, preferring to leave them in the dark, which, if he paid any attention, makes people much more miserable than the truth would. So all Idamante hears is that not only does his father inexplicably hate him, he’s also forbidding him to be with the person he’s in love with.

By now Idamante’s basically experienced the full gamut. He’s been in and out of love with Elettra; he’s suffered the thought that Ilia hates him; he’s faced the joy of finding out that’s not the case; he’s been through the roller coaster of first thinking that his dad is finally coming home after then ten-year war, then despairing at his death, then a few hours later finding out he’s actually alive, only to have his father reject him upon their first reunion and several times after. Further, he just found out (or thinks he’s found out, because Idomeneo is terrible at describing things) that it’s his fault the gods are punishing his people and that this terrible monster is ravaging the city. Now his father is asking him to leave and never return. Idamante says that he’ll do that to please his father, but he’s probably just going to die along the way, and that truthfully that’s what he wants to happen at this point.

The only thing that finally makes Idamante happy is when he finds out that his father has to kill him. His joy is twofold. One, he finally knows why his father has been such a dick to him. Precious sunflower that he is, he thinks it’s totally okay that his father treated him that way because it was apparently out of love. Because repeatedly being rejected isn’t as bad when the person doing the rejecting is doing it because they don’t want to kill you. Even though said rejecting hurt worse than death and almost led to your death anyway. That’s the excuse Idomeneo has. Idamante is not only a victim of the gods, but of one of the most extreme cases of Disastrous Tenor Logic ever seen in opera.

The second part of his joy comes from the realization that he has the ability to save his people. He just managed to kill the terrible monster miraculously without dying, but he only saved himself because he found out his father needs to kill him. And now he’s bursting with joy because he can help his father gain peace of mind and protect his kingdom from the wrath of the gods. He spends the next several minutes forgiving Idomeneo for being an asshole and comforting him, despite the fact that he’s the one that’s going to die. The only value he sees in his life at this moment is the fact that it’s going to end.

If it weren’t for Ilia, who knows if Idamante would have survived, because Neptune sure took his time to intervene. But even after the love of his life rescues him, Idamante still wants to die. He finally has what he wants—the love of his father and the love of Ilia—but he’s still prepared to die because by this point he sees it as his destiny. Once again it falls on him to do the comforting. He tries to convince Ilia to let go, be happy, and let him die in peace. There is very little indication from Idamante that he’s sad about losing his life for its own sake. Only for the way it’s going to affect others.

People who are suicidal tend to think that the world would be a better place without them. Here that is literally the case: the chaos will only cease when Idamante is dead. So not only does Idamante spend the majority of this opera feeling hopeless and wanting to die because of that, he finds out that by dying he’s going to be more useful to the living than if he himself were to continue to live. The inaccurate assumption that the world is better off without him, brought on by his depression, has suddenly become reality. They couldn’t have chosen a better victim.

Then Neptune saves him and announces Idamante will be king (because it’s finally clicked that Idomeneo is doing a shit job) and that he’ll marry Ilia. Suddenly his life has purpose again. Suddenly, it’s not his death that would make people happy; it’s his life.

It’s opera seria so we want a happy ending, and usually we get a happy ending. Not so much with this production, though. The way these directors ended their Clemenza wasn’t my favorite—not nearly enough hugging—but it wasn’t specifically taking a step in a darker direction. It left us with some suspended angst, knowing it’s not possible, after the events of the opera, for things to go back to the way they were before, when people were happy.

This one, though, took things further. As described earlier, we get this eerie moment of Idamante stopping in his tracks and staring at the weapon that almost killed him. No one uses the ax. No one’s touching it. But the sight of it is enough to send him to a dark place.

At this point Idamante has faced, in a remarkably short amount of time, joy, despair, depression, elation, self-loathing, self-worth, suicidal ideation, and the desire to live. He’s basically felt the full spectrum of human emotion. And he’s faced death twice in the span of maybe an hour: at the hands of the terrible monster, and at the hands of his own father.

He was completely willing to lay down his life for the greater good, but an honorable death is still dying. Right now he’s dancing around with Ilia, celebrating life and love and joy, and then in an instant he’s faced with the memory of the fact that he almost died. Now that he has the ability to appreciate life, that concept is terrifying.

Before watching this moment, it had weirdly never occurred to me the lifelong impact that this series of events would have on Idamante. But looking back it seems kind of obvious that it would. In opera we’re used to people just dying, not getting rescued at the last minute. In most productions, Idomeneo is poised to make the final blow before Ilia intervenes. Idamante is certain these are his last seconds on earth, but suddenly the aren’t. He’s given a second chance to live again, but he’s still left with that feeling. That he was going to die. That his father was going to kill him.

So as much as I want them to just have a happy, carefree ending, that’s not realistic. As the Paris Clemenza pointed out, there’s no way things can go back to the way they were before. Idamante is king now (though he’s probably used to that, having basically run the place in his father’s absence anyway). He finally has Ilia’s love and permission to marry her. He finally has his father back, both physically (he’s here) and emotionally (he’s finally being nice again). His people are safe and will be protected. The war is over. The people are united. But the price of this was days (maybe weeks, depending on how the time span is portrayed) of despair, of the wish to die, and finally a near-death experience. This is a recipe for trauma. On the outside his life is now perfect; he has everything he wants. But the mental and emotional backlash is going to be brutal.

All this is to say…after thinking about it in this way, I actually really appreciate that the directors put this in. Yeah, I wish the opera could end on a happy note with some cute flirting and cuddles. But that would be minimizing the significance of the trauma for Idamante. I’ve always appreciated this opera for the way it emphasizes the intense emotions felt by Idamante (and the others, but mostly this kid) which are almost a commentary on mental illness. In some ways it shows us the same ultimatum we see in so many operas: love or death. “If I can’t have this person as my love, my only peace is in the grave.” How many times have we heard that (or some variant) coming from the mouths of operatic protagonists (and sometimes villains)? But this opera has always hit a little different for me. Maybe it’s because of how many times Idamante expresses this feeling, in various contexts. Maybe it’s because of the multiple facets of his life that impact his feelings. Or the complex web of relationships that add their own influence. Or the fact that he’s not making these comments to himself, as we see much of the time in opera, but flat-out stating them to the people in his life who have the power to make him feel better and literally save his life, but who for the longest time refuse to do so.

The ending of this production validates all of that by reminding us that Idamante’s problems are not easily swept away by the proclamations of a god. They’re still very real and very much a part of his life, and will be for some time—maybe forever.

He’s traumatized. Seeing the ax again triggered that trauma, and he’s left with the haunting truth that this trauma may never go away.

It’s honestly a really ingenious device and it just added so many layers to this concept for me.

Although…it would have been nice to see Idamante and Ilia hug before the lights go down.

#Idamante #Idomeneo #character analysis #opera #opera tag #opera asks #opera seria #opera analysis #literature analyisis

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monotonous-minutia · 4 years

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Ramble. Just go off and say everything you want to say about any topic. Let me pick your brain a bit.

one thing I’ve been thinking about a lot recently is opera directors making edits to operas to match their production concept. you heard me yelling about the DNO 2018 Hoffmann one day; the excuse for those cuts was, I think, that there is no “definitive” Hoffmann edit so it’s hard to say one isn’t okay when another is (though there are actually...but that’s another post...or a lot...I think I’ve written a few...idk I have an unhealthy obsession with that opera). But recently I saw two productions that really left me scratching my head because the operas in question, as far as I know, don’t have confusion surrounding the scores/libretti used because there weren’t dramatic revisions or pieces missing. Idk if that sentence makes sense.

so anyway there’s this one production of Idomeneo where they take out a ton of recits and for like the first thirty minutes basically just jump from aria to aria. The way they staged it kind of made up for it because we could still see where the action was going, but it seemed pretty obvious to me after a while that they were taking out the recits specifically because the text went against the way this production was designed.

two disclaimers here: 1) I’m not a fan of recits in general primarily for the way they sound (just kinda monotonous) but I appreciate them because they’re effective in getting a lot of information and exposition across quickly, and it’s less likely that lines will be cut or adjusted compared to operas with spoken dialogue where things constantly go missing (cough cough Zauberflote cough cough). 2) I can understand the dilemmas faced by directors/producers who want to set the opera in a modern setting and the text is making explicit references to Greek gods that wouldn’t apply in the modern setting.

that said, I don’t really jive with the idea of cutting them out completely, especially if there’s no history of them being cut by the original authors. Like...I don’t really see directors altering plays or musicals to match the production concept. I have seen a few Shakespeare performances that are missing a few lines, but I’m assuming that’s mostly because they’ve been reprinted so many times that some small pieces go missing (also I’m far from being proficient as far as Shakespeare goes so it could also just be me missing things). And a lot of time for musicals, they don’t even change the choreography and blocking from the original unless it’s super old. I suppose we could say that about opera then. But I have yet to hear of a production of Camelot set during World War II for example. Idk I guess I really am just rambling here.

anyway all that is to say: in this production they took out a ton of the recits and....like almost the entire second half of Act III. everything about the sacrifice and the “terrible monster” and Idamante willing to lay down his life for his people. It’s just...Idamante gets this aria I’ve never heard before and then Neptune gives his proclamation and everyone’s happy (except Elettra) and then there’s like a 20-minute ballet. And then it ends.

So: Most of the time when I see this opera it’s all pretty much the same but this one was just all over the place which I’m very much not used to for this one. I can only assume it was all the director/producer making these choices specifically to better match the libretto/score to their production concept. And I guess I’m just not sure how I feel about that.

On one hand I’m always interested in seeing new takes on an opera, even if the concept doesn’t 100% match what the opera was originally trying to get across. That’s one of the reasons I like opera so much: there’s so much scope for the imagination (to quote Anne Shirley).

On the other hand, I think it’s a little disrespectful to the original opera to cut out big parts of the opera so they don’t interfere with the production concept. Like--if the idea is so far off from what the opera typically is, why not pick a different piece that better matches their vision? Editing a few things here and there is okay (if they handle it well), but making huge changes throughout seems to be going a bit far. Part of the creative process is also seeing how what is already there can be adapted. I see so much creativity with productions where they’re placed in a concept very different from the original, without altering the score and libretto. As a viewer, I’m okay if someone in a suit and tie makes reference to a Greek deity or the Spanish Inquisition as if it’s a current event. There’s already a sense of suspended disbelief because we’re assuming this is a world where people sing about their feelings and no one thinks that’s weird, and where we’re expected to understand when multiple people sing different things at the same time. It’s not too hard to imagine that the setting doesn’t perfectly match what the score and text are trying to get across.

to sum up: making cuts like this seems kind of disrespectful to the original authors, as well as kind of lazy directing because they decided to adapt the opera to meet their needs, rather than doing what their job should be (imo) which is to take an already-complete piece of art and build a concept around that. Finally, it almost seems disrespectful to the audience. Like they don’t trust us to be able to make those leaps of imagination or understand how the context is changed.

again I’m in no way against creative takes on operas (though I tend to prefer when they’re set in the original context). I’ve seen some really compelling productions where the action is placed in an entirely new setting. I saw Ariel hanging from a chandelier in a broken-down La Scala and a bunch of French nobles from the five centuries ago playing tennis with Adidas rackets. But the directors were able to do this without changing the libretto and score and we (the audience) went along with it. So, it can be done.

I have no idea if any of this makes sense, but thank you for giving me the opportunity to get it off my chest!

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