Right off the bat, let me explain that I am not an opera scholar. I am an opera singer and an opera lover who knows a fair bit about opera, but if you are looking for any deep historical research type writing here you are not in the right place.
My aim is to give you enough of an idea of the world for which Idomeneo was composed, and of the composer’s thinking while composing and his librettist’s mindset while writing that you feel a bit more smug and knowledgeable yourself while watching it. All for the same reason that we all prefer watching films on subjects we feel competent about, starring actors we love, or by a writer or director we know a bit about. Also, much of it is just my opinion, or a way to get you thinking about the opera, so feel free to argue with me.
Firstly, let me say that I am indebted to several longer and more in-depth online resources for some/most of this post. For a taster, and if you have the time and inclination, take a look at:
Modernising Mythology: A Historical and Cultural Study of Mozart’s Idomeneo
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_operas_by_Mozart
Idomeneo is a difficult opera to define. It sits somewhere between the genres of Italian Opera Seria (long serious operas with huge arias and a lot of bowing) and the newer styles coming from France and Germany. It was composed between 1780 and 1781. Obviously by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (27 January 1756 – 5 December 1791 if you care about such things), with a libretto by Giambattista Varesco (1735-1805), the then chaplain of Salzburg Cathedral.
First let’s put Idomeneo in context of Mozart’s oeuvre. Mozart was a prolific little prodigy and by the time he was 23 had composed 11 operas. This rather puts one in one’s place. Most critics see Idomeneo, his twelfth, as a turning point. Mozart’s previous works are all rarely performed, and while they have some exceptional musical moments, there is a reason. They do not show the genius with human drama that Mozart could be and have a tendency to be very long (or very short), very confusing, very historical, trying to squeeze into a genre, and often, very, very difficult to sing.
Some of them are coming back into fashion however, especially La Finta Giardinera (1774), useful for a lot of companies because it is really very funny and good for youth companies because it has a nice big cast. It was recently revived very successfully by Glyndebourne.
But back to Idomeneo. What is undoubtedly the most interesting twist in the Mozart-Varesco version is that Idamante doesn’t die. This veers away from the the traditional Greco-Roman plot. Ultimately, humans who repent and are willing to sacrifice everything are redeemed. Instead of unswervingly vengeful gods (Mozart and Varesco cut out Venus) we see only one god and he is forgiving. Thus, the opera reflects the Enlightened Christian attitudes that had become prevalent by the mid to late 17th Century (especially among cathedral chaplains if you get my drift). It is also one of his first operas to really explore human relationships.
As many critics and musicologists point out, at the time of composition, Mozart had recently lost his mother and was arguing constantly with his father. He’d also just been rejected by Maria Aloysia Antonia Weber Lange, a German soprano he’d got the hots for (don’t feel too sorry for him, he married her sister in the end). These fundamental trials (death, family feuding, rejection) affect the lives of the opera’s main characters. The supernatural element that drives the traditional story is strikingly down-played. This is an usual choice for a composition written at a time when theatrical spectacle was hugely popular.
“Hang about!” I hear you cry, “this isn’t a sign of Mozart’s new found genius, he just had a good librettist!” Not exactly. He did, but even so, if you explore the many letters between Mozart and Varesco it becomes clear that Mozart was calling the shots, more often than not telling Varesco to shorten things and get to the point.
Furthermore, it is the music that expresses the emotions. Mozart’s previous libretti had not been at all bad. The libretti Mozart seemed to favour were excellent vessels. they were ‘to the point’ and comparatively simply written.
However, while composing Idomeneo it seems that something matured in Mozart and gave him the chance to really make the characters come musically to life in a way they nearly had before, but not quite. He seems able, for perhaps the first time, to find a way to keep to recognisable musical forms but to simultaneously free himself from their restraints from within.
Take, for example, Ilia’s opening aria
Padre, germani, addio! Father, siblings, goodbye! Voi foste, io vi perdei. You were, I have to lose you. Grecia, cagion tu sei. Greece, you are the cause. E un greco adorerò? And will I love a Greek? D'ingrata al sangue mio Disgrace to my blood So che la colpa avrei; I know I would bring; Ma quel sembiante, oh Dei, But that look, Oh God, Odiare ancor non so. I still do not know how to hate
Actually, what Ilia says is pretty straight forward. But Mozart’s melody rockets all over the place in ways that perfectly express the inner turmoil bubbling below the surface. It is an exceptionally clever and powerful mix. A direct libretto that speaks the way people really do, interwoven with music that encapsulates the feelings speech cannot express. The music is still perfectly formed but its rises and falls and twists and turns are so dramatically ‘right’ that it really hits the spot.
Even when day-dreaming Ilia is not verbose:
Zeffiretti lusinghieri, Flattering breezes Deh volate al mio tesoro: Fly to my beloved E gli dite, ch'io l'adoro And tell him that I adore him Che mi serbi il cor fedel. That I am served by a faithful heart E voi piante, e fior sinceri And you faithful plants and flowers Che ora innaffia il That now are watered by pianto amaro, my bitter tears Dite a lui, che amor più raro Say to him, that a more special loveMai vedeste sotto al ciel. Was never seen beneath heaven.
But Mozart’s wafting melody gets to the heart of her human nature – she is simply a young girl in love.
And one more (to prove it’s not all Ilia!)
Non ho colpa, e mi condanni I'm not to blame, and you curse me Idol mio, perché t'adoro. My idol, because I adore you. Colpa è vostra, oh Dei tiranni, You are to blame, oh tyrant gods, E di pena afflitto io moro And hurt with sorrow I die D'un error che mio non è. For a crime that is not mine. Se tu brami, al tuo impero If you desire it, on you order Aprirommi questo seno, I will open up this breast, Ne' tuoi lumi il leggo, è vero, In you eyes I read it, it is true, Ma me'l dica il labbro almeno But at least say it with your lips E non chiedo altra mercè. And I will ask no other mercy
Idamante is slightly more poetical, he uses “lumi” or “lights” for eyes, and begs Ilia to “tell him with her lips” rather than just “say it”, but his outburst is hardly lyrically over the top. Furthermore, he is speaking to his beloved, and he is still trying to woo her. A little flowery language would hardly go amiss under such circumstances, even if he weren’t on stage in an opera (ah, gentler times!- well a part from the sea monster etc.).
This is, I think, the magic of Idomeneo. How real the characters terms of expression are and how powerfully the music expresses their psychological upsets. It builds real pathos and creates true people out of these ‘mythological stock characters’. It is something that really takes off in Idomeneo and continues into Mozart’s most famous operas with the librettist Da Ponte.
No wonder Mozart got so shirty that half of the singers he was working with couldn’t act! He apparently had a hissy fit in a letter to his dad because Idomeneo, Anton Raaff, was “like a statue” and Dal Prato, his Idamante, had never been on a stage before.
Opera Miscellany 