L’Incoronazione di Poppea 2022
26, 27, 28, 29, 30 JULY 7:30PM
30 JULY 3:00PM
L’Incoronazione di Poppea
MONTEVERDI
GRIMEBORN FESTIVAL 2022
26, 27, 28, 29, 30 JULY 7:30PM
30 JULY 3:00PM
The Arcola Theatre, 24 Ashwin St, London
Marcio da Silva Stage/Music Director
Ben Riedel Assistant Stage Director
Helen May Production Manager
Predrag Gosta Harpsichord
Kieran Staub Harpsichord/Organ
Cédric Meyer Archlute/Baroque Guitar
Ed Taylor/Kirsty Main Violin
Nathan Giorgetti Cello
Paul Jenkins Recorder
Marcio da Silva Recorder/ Baroque Guitar/ Percussion
Helen May Poppea
Julia Portela Piñón Nerone
Eric Schlossberg Ottone
Kieran White Arnalta/Lucano/Liberto
Hazel Neighbour Ottavia/Virtu
Gheorghe Palcu Seneca
Poppy Shotts Drusilla
Anna-Luise Wagner Amore/Damigella
Rachel Allen Valletto/Fortuna/Pallade
L’Incoronazione di Poppea.
L’incoronazione, with a libretto by Giovanni Francesco Busenello, was first performed at the Teatro Santi Giovanni e Paolo in Venice during the 1643 carnival season. One of the first operas to use historical events and people, it describes how Poppea, mistress of the Roman emperor Nero, achieved her ambition to be crowned empress. It differed from Monteverdi's other operas because it highlighted the baser natures of humans, rather than the lofty natures of the gods.
The original manuscript of the score does not exist; two surviving copies from the 1650s (‘Venice’ and ‘Naples’) show significant differences from each other, and each differs to some extent from the libretto. It is now commonly accepted that L’incoronazione as it survives combines the work of various composers, although opinions vary on the precise nature of that mix. Some of the music is almost certainly by Cavalli, and some by Francesco Sacrati. Analysis suggests that the music of the final scene and the music for Ottone may have been written by a different hand, whether working under Monteverdi’s direction or not. But a fair amount of the music rings true to the style of late Monteverdi, and even the final love duet, ‘Pur ti miro, pur ti godo’, is close to music written by him.
None of the existing versions of the libretto, printed or manuscript, can be definitively tied to the first performance at the Teatro Santi Giovanni e Paolo, the precise date of which is unknown and there is no record of the opera's initial public reception. Despite these uncertainties, the work is generally accepted as part of the Monteverdi operatic canon, his last and perhaps his greatest work. Following its 1643 premiere the opera was revived in Naples in 1651 but was then neglected until the rediscovery of the score in 1888, after which it became the subject of scholarly attention in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
L’incoronazione is frequently described as a story in which virtue is punished and greed rewarded, running counter to the accepted conventions of literary principles, raising the classic moral dilemma of not-so-nice characters singing beautiful music. It is the adulterous liaison of Poppea and Nerone which wins the day, although this triumph is demonstrated by history to have been transitory. In Busenello's version of the story all the major characters are morally compromised. From their knowledge of Roman history, audiences in Venice would have recognised that the apparent triumph of love over virtue, celebrated by Nerone and Poppea in the closing duet, was hollow, and that not long after this event Nerone kicked the pregnant Poppea to death. They would have known, too, that Nerone himself committed suicide a few years later, and that others - Ottavia, Lucano, Ottone - also met untimely deaths.
Synopsis.
Prologue
The goddesses Fortune, Virtue and Amore argue over which of them holds greater power over humankind. Amore claims to be master of the world and declares that once they have heard her story, they will abandon their claims.
Act I
Poppea’s palace
Ottone arrives at the palace of his beloved Poppea (‘E pur io torno qui, qual linea al centro’) with intentions to pursue his love, only to discover that Poppea and Nerone lie within together. His love song turns to a lament. He sees Nerone’s soldiers outside, asleep. The soldiers are aroused and complain about their job and the decline of Rome (‘Sia maledetto Amor, Poppea, Nerone’). They feel sorry for Empress Ottavia being so badly treated.
Nerone enters with his mistress: they take a sensuous farewell as Poppea emphasises her love for him (‘Signor, sempre mi vedi’) and seeks to guarantee their marriage. She is left alone with her nurse, Arnalta, who warns her to be careful of the empress's wrath and to distrust Nerone's apparent love for her. But Poppea, arrogantly confident of his affection, dismisses her warnings., for Amore and Fortuna are on her side (‘Per me guerreggia Amor e la Fortuna’). Arnalta is left to grumble at his mistress’s folly (‘Ben sei pazza, se credi’).
City of Rome
The scene changes to focus on Ottavia who despairs at her humiliation (‘Disprezzata regina’) while her nurse (Nutrice) suggests that she should take a lover (‘Se Neron perso ha l’ingegno’). Seneca, Nerone's former tutor, addresses the empress with flattering words, and is mocked by Ottavia's page, Valleto, who threatens to set fire to the old man's beard. Left alone, Seneca reflects on power and the transitory nature of life (‘Le porpore regali e imperatrici’). The goddess Pallade appears to warn him of his impending death. Seneca welcomes the news.
Nerone enters and confides in Seneca that he intends to repudiate Ottavia and marry Poppea (‘Son risoluto insomma’). Seneca urges reason: such a move would be divisive and unpopular. Nerone is angered by this. Poppea tries to calm him down (‘Come dolci signor, come soavi’) but warns that Seneca claims to be the power behind the imperial throne. When Seneca persists in urging reason, Nerone furiously dismisses him.
After Nerone leaves, Ottone emerges and confronts Poppea over her infidelity (‘Ad altri tocca in sorte’). He unsuccessfully attempts to rekindle Poppea's affections for him. Arnalta feels sorry for the poor man (‘Infelice ragazzo!’). He tries to come to his senses (‘Otton, torna in te stesso’) but when all else fails he vows revenge. He is then comforted by Drusilla, a noblewoman. Realising that he can never regain Poppea's affections, he offers to marry Drusilla, who joyfully accepts him. But Ottone admits to himself: ‘Drusilla is on my lips, Poppea is in my heart.’
Act II
Seneca’s villa
Seneca praises stoic solitude. The god Mercury appears, warning him again of death which the philosopher accepts happily (‘Oh me felice, adunque’). Liberte enters with Nerone’s command that Seneca must die by the end of the day and is impressed by the philosopher’s calmness in response to it all (‘Mori, e mori felice’). Seneca gathers his famigliari around him; they try to persuade him to remain alive (‘Non morir Seneca’), but he is determined. ‘The warm current of my guiltless blood shall carpet with royal purple my road to death.’
City of Rome
At the palace Ottavia's page Valletto flirts with Damigella, a lady-in-waiting. Nerone and the poet Lucano celebrate the news of the death of Seneca with wine and song (‘Hor che Seneca è morto), praising Poppea’s beauty (‘Son rubini pretiosi’).
Ottone, in a long soliloquy, ponders how he could have thought to kill Poppea with whom he remains hopelessly in love (‘Sprezzami quanto sai’). He is interrupted by a summons from Ottavia who, to his dismay, orders him to kill Poppea. Threatening to denounce him to Nerone unless he complies, she suggests that he disguise himself as a woman to commit the deed. Ottone agrees to do as she bids, privately calling on the gods to relieve him of his life. Drusilla delights in her love for Ottone (‘Felice cor mio’), and Ottavia’s nurse wishes she were in his place (‘Il giorno femminil’). Ottone explains to Drusilla his plans for Poppea and persuades her to lend him her clothes.
In her chamber Poppea rejoices in Seneca’s death (‘Hor che Seneca è morto’) and prays for Amore to support her; Arnalta then lulls her to sleep (‘Oblivion soave’). Amore watches overhead, proclaiming her power to protect humankind (‘O sciocchi, o frali’), as Ottone enters dressed as Drusilla and tries to kill Poppea. Amore prevents the deed; Poppea wakes and gives the alarm as Ottone escapes. Amore boasts of her success (‘Ho difeso Poppea’).
Act III
Drusilla joyfully anticipates Poppea’s death and the life of happiness before her (‘O felice Drusilla, oh che sper’io’), but Arnalta identifies Drusilla as Poppea's assailant, and she is arrested. As Nerone enters, Arnalta denounces Drusilla, who protests her innocence. Threatened with torture unless she names her accomplices, Drusilla decides to protect Ottone by confessing her own guilt. Nerone commands her to suffer a painful death, at which point Ottone rushes in and reveals the truth: that he had acted alone, at the command of the Empress Ottavia, and that Drusilla was innocent of complicity.
Nerone banishes Ottone while praising Drusilla as a model of womanly behaviour. Drusilla asks to go into exile with him. Ottone accepts the punishment with glad heart (‘Signor, non son punito, anzi beato’). Now that Ottone has implicated Ottavia in the affair, Nerone has the excuse he needs, and he banishes her too. He and Poppea rejoice that the way is now clear to their marriage (‘Non più s’interporrà noia o dimora’). Ottavia enters and, in a lament, bids a halting farewell to her home and friends (‘Addio Roma, addio patria, amici addio’). Arnalta revels in the exaltation of his mistress as empress of Rome (‘Oggi sarà Poppea’).
In the throne room of the palace the coronation ceremony for Poppea is prepared. Nerone crowns Poppea (‘Ascendi, o mia diletta’) and the consuls and tribunes pay homage. Amore proclaims her triumph to the approval of her mother Venere (‘Io mi compiaccio, o figlio’). Nerone and Poppea sing a final ecstatic love duet (‘Pur ti miro, pur ti godo’).
Monteverdi and opera - ‘un sol vero’.
More than half of Monteverdi’s operas are lost to us. The three on which we build his current reputation – L’Orfeo (1607), Il Ritorno d’Ulisse in Patria (1640), and L’incoronazione di Poppea (1643) are strikingly different.
Ritorno and L’incoronazione were one and three in a trilogy of Venetian operas written by Monteverdi in his twilight years. The middle ‘ghost’ opera – Le Nozze d’Enea e Lavinia – is much talked of in written sources but did not survive. Fans of Monteverdi may already have dipped into the research of American musicologist Ellen Rosand, which greatly enhances our understanding of L’incoronazione and its place in this trilogy.
One of the most distinctive aspects of these three operas is that their librettos were written specifically for Monteverdi as part of an effort to lure him back to music theatre, from which he had been conspicuously absent for some time. In 1640 the nobleman Giacomo Badoaro prefaced his libretto to Ritorno with an open letter explaining that he had embarked on his libretto for the sole purpose of tempting the composer out of his operatic retirement. Until now, he explains, the emotions Venetian audiences had seen portrayed on stage had left them cold and unmoved, because they were warmed by a painted sun; only the great master Monteverdi, the true sun, radiates sufficient heat to really ignite the passions.
Yet opera in Venice was flourishing in 1640. From 1637 the Teatro di San Cassiano and a succession of newly constructed theatres had resounded to the success of operas produced by Benedetto Ferrari, Francesco Manelli, and Francesco Cavalli in a burst of frenetic activity. Monteverdi – in his seventies, in religious orders, and in position as maestro di capella - seemed initially reluctant to join the commercial stampede.
But the sight of the new librettos did serve to galvanise Monteverdi - he responded with a surge of activity, ultimately producing three new operas in three years. Ritorno was an immediate success: ten crowded and enthusiastic Venetian performances, performances in Bologna, and unheard-of re-runs the following year. Another personally conceived libretto was then sent to Monteverdi by an aristocratic fan: the libretto for Le Nozze – most probably written by Michelangelo Torcigliani – was based on the Aeneid, just as Ritorno had been based on the Odyssey, and was a sequel to it, purposefully continuing its grand narrative.
Operas of the time often sought to convey profound political messages by dramatic means. Ellen Rosand points out that recognising the placing of L’incoronazione as the third opera in the Venetian trilogy enhances understanding of its message. Ritorno contains a Greek story which follows from the destruction of Troy, Le Nozze contains a Latin story that deals with the founding of Rome, L’incoronazione, tells of downfall following the moral weakening of the Roman Empire whose greatness will live again in the magnificent republic of Venice. The Nozze libretto articulates the Venice myth - ‘I see with the passing years a city proudly raise its wings to the stars.’ Thus, Ritorno to L’incoronazione is a Troy-Rome-Venice mythic history. In choosing these three librettos Monteverdi was following the cultural mainstream of Venetian opera at the time. In 1641, for example, four out of five operas performed in Venetian theatres were based on Homeric and Virgilian themes, peddling different stages of the Venetian genealogical myth.
The concept of the trilogy does not falter because the constituent librettos were written by different authors. The three librettists were part of a coherent intellectual group and were well-known to each other. The libretto for L’incoronazione was written by Francesco Busenello. Badoaro and Busenello were life-long friends, and Badoaro was also friends with Torcigliani. All three were members of the Accademia degli Incogniti – the most important literary academy in Venice where aristocratic writers debated moral, social, and political issues in weekly meetings and in written publications. The group were strongly patriotic and committed to the welfare and fame of the republic, and many wrote operas.
Both Badoaro and Torcigliani emphasised Monteverdi’s role in shaping their original librettos – they commented that they concentrated on the affections and avoided abstruse thoughts and concepts in deference to Monteverdi’s wishes. Of the trio of librettists, Busenello was by far the more skilled dramatist, already having two operatic texts to his credit. However, despite his experience, he too attended carefully to Monteverdi’s preferences. Although Busenello makes no specific mention of modelling the text to suit Monteverdi he must have done so, since this libretto differs markedly to his two previous librettos and two later ones written for Cavalli.
Yet despite their efforts the many alterations and revisions which Monteverdi made on the different texts shows that each of the librettists did not always present material that matched Monteverdi’s exacting standards. Monteverdi was a skilled musical dramatist - fastidious textual selections balanced with nuanced melodic lines and rich harmonic choices ensured vivid characterisations and resonant human interactions.
L'Incoronazione – breaking new ground?
Written when the genre of opera was only a few decades old, the music for L’incoronazione has been praised for its originality, its melody, and for its reflection of the human attributes of its characters. The opera broke new ground in matching music to stage action, in its musical reproductions of the natural inflections of the human voice, in the use of the violin to mirror and match the new flexibility of vocal writing, and in the attempts to notate new metrical and rhythmic relationships.
Monteverdi was certainly valued as a composer in his own time, although he was not dubbed a genius. Contemporaries praised him for his ‘variety of output’, for his ‘musical way of moving some particular emotion in the breasts of men’ (Matteo Carbeloti), and for his ability to outshine his contemporaries. It is also true to say that the progressive trajectory model tracked in later ‘great’ composers is apparent in Monteverdi’s musical development - Cremona (1567-90), Mantua (1590-1612), and Venice (1613-43). However, along with other contemporaries, Monteverdi indulged in imitations, emulations, the re-working of ‘derived’ material, day-to-day collaborations, cross-borrowings, and skeletal scoring that relied heavily on improvisational practice. It cannot be proved that Monteverdi wrote all the music within the scores we study and hear - he clearly didn’t. Yet, despite lively debates about authorship, L’incoronazione is treated as ‘Monteverdi's’.
How do we evaluate Monteverdi’s significance?
Monteverdi’s own perception is interesting. He stated in a letter of 23 October 1633 that ‘I would rather be moderately praised for the new style than greatly praised for the ordinary.’ This suggests an awareness that he is breaking new ground, though as a contracted employee tied to social constraints, his would surely be an evolutionary rather than a revolutionary pathway. We do know that he was sensitive to his position in the compositional world, both from his attention to the work of his contemporaries and more directly his attempts to articulate and justify his own ideas in various ‘manifestos’ issued over a period of more than thirty years.
In L’incoronazione Monteverdi uses all the means for vocal expression available to a composer of his time - aria, arioso, arietta, ensemble, and recitative. The boundaries between these forms are flexible, with elements being woven into a continuous fabric so that the music always serves the drama, while a formal tonal unity is maintained. The musical style is sensuously melodic, brimming with closed forms, and offering a more realistic portrayal of characters than heretofore. Each character has strong emotions, fears, and desires which are reflected in the variety of their music. Outstanding musical peaks include the final duet (despite disputes regarding its authorship), Ottavia's Act 1 lament, Seneca's farewell and the ensuing madrigal, and the thrilling florid synchronous coloratura of the Nerone-Lucano duet which is often performed with strong homoerotic overtones. The drama includes tragic, romantic, and comic scenes (new for opera at that time). The combination of all these attributes established Monteverdi as the leading musical dramatist of his time.
In his observations about this opera Nikolaus Harnoncourt expressed astonishment at: ‘the mental freshness with which the 74-year-old composer, two years before his death, was able to surpass his pupils in the most modern style and to set standards which were to apply to the music theatre of the succeeding centuries.’ Mark Ringer proposes that the opera is a unified masterpiece of ‘unprecedented depth and individuality’.
Modern productions: dramatic techniques.
We face a dilemma when presenting performances of early operas. Sources such as descriptions of singers indicate that 17th-century acting was more presentational than naturalistic. Until the 20th-century, few opera goers seemed to care about ‘acting’ as we know it today. 19th-century ears were more focused on the beauty of the voice, and only a minimum of skill was required or expected in conveying a character.
Yet the idea that an opera singer should just ‘park’ and ‘bark’ is passé. George Bernard Shaw’s famous dictum that the best way to see an opera is to sit at the back of a box, put your feet up on a chair, and close your eyes has been replaced by the desire to see opera as theatre. Influenced in part by Stanislavsky’s ‘Method’, audiences expect a unification of singer and role in opera.
There is no doubt that the rich characterisation of Monteverdi’s operas invites a non-historically informed ‘Method’ style. However, opera singers tend to be encouraged to find a balance between inner drama and outer qualities of tone quality and intonation. This is one reason why Ensemble OrQuesta favours a minimalist approach to interpretation, design, and delivery. Our interpretations are creative but both music and drama are stripped down to enhance access to the essence of musical authenticity and artistic expression.
Modern productions: the vocal sound.
In terms of vocal sound, it is not easy to be certain about the style of singing in early operas since there is no tangible source of evidence. Notated texts, the composition of musical lines, and the acoustic aspect of performance venues can give us some indications. The emphasis on trilli and groppi requires a great deal of vocal agility, especially in lower parts of the range, which is not fully commensurate with the bel canto emphasis on legato and upper-voice clarity. The strongest and loudest part of the range in bel canto must be the top: any Rossini or Verdi aria will place the musical climax on a long-held high note. Earlier dramatic music usually requires agility throughout. In bel canto the voice floats over the smoothly changing harmonies. Modern harmonic voice leading is sometimes evident in Monteverdi’s music, but he was writing mostly within a system of modal, rather than triadic, harmony. Monteverdi’s dramatic music is music of rupture: his characters often move quickly from one idea to another, and the harmonic language follows accordingly.
The English ‘early music tradition’ has tended to encourage RP vowels, a tighter throat position, placement far forward in the ‘mask’, and the control of vocal tone required for choral blend. William Christie’s French revival style is based on the bel canto style, with precise rhythms, minimal vibrato but with the sound blossoming with vibrato on longer notes. Yet neither of these should be viewed as the only ‘acceptable’ way of singing early music. Close analysis of the treatises of the time seems to show that the most striking change in technique is that in the 17th-century the larynx was generally raised when singers sang higher, rather than lowered as it has been in classical singing since the late 18th-century. Some suggest that early opera singers may have sounded more like modern folk singers than modern opera singers.
Overall, as research and understanding has deepened an increasing pluralism of influence has emerged and a more liquid concept of how the music of composers such as Monteverdi ‘ought’ to sound. To take one example, note the difference in vocal sound in a choir such as The Sixteen from its inception in the 1980s to the present day - the use of a much freer vibrato is clear. Singers such as Joyce DiDonato demonstrate this current ‘multi-influential’ technique in singing early opera. Her performance of Ottavia’s ‘Addio Roma’, for example, is text-based and dramatic in a way Monteverdi’s contemporaries might recognise, but she also draws on her ‘grand opera’ voice in the middle section, giving it a sonic quality, with extra emphasis on consonants and an acceptance of sacrificing beauty for dramatic intensity. Soprano Danielle de Niese has worked with major early music conductors such as William Christie and Emmanuelle Haïm, and in her interpretations of Monteverdi’s Poppea and Handel’s Cleopatra she freely employs the pitch bending and chestier vocal production of singers like Barbra Streisand, Laura Nyro, or Audra McDonald. Some successful singers of this repertoire have also incorporated elements of jazz into their singing techniques, such as migration between chest- and head-voice within the same phrase, and less controlled vibrato.
Thus, it can be contended that a pluralist musical world means that there is no single ‘right’ way to sing anything, and certainly not ‘early music’. Our current cultural landscape of liquid authenticity in vocal sound allows fulness of vocal tone and legato technique where the musical lines permit, or where the dramatic intentions of the composer suggest. Purists who expect or indeed insist on a constrained choral sound when attending an early opera may feel indignant when hearing multi-influential technique, but there is little of substance to support their ire.
Gender ambiguity and vocal sound.
What is often presented as the most successful experiment in recreating early vocal production techniques, the modern revival of the operatic countertenor, has little historical basis. High male roles in Monteverdi’s time were sung by castrati, as were female roles where women were not allowed on stage. Because castrati do not exist today, opera companies sometimes opt for countertenors to sing these roles. However, the castrato voice would not have sounded like the modern countertenor voice as the mechanics of sound production in the two types is different: the castrato would have used chest voice, while countertenors use head voice. The operation of castration resulted in the abnormal growth of the chest area, which allowed the castrato to make an especially loud and resonant noise. Countertenors as a rule did not sing in opera and were confined to church music. The first operatic part written specifically for countertenor was Oberon in Britten’s Midsummer Night’s Dream, as late as 1960. Indeed, we know that when castrati were not available in the 17th-century, they were usually replaced by women, and there are many examples from Handel’s tenure in London of this practice. Therefore, the use of countertenors in roles such as Nerone and Ottone in L'Incoronazione has no purely historical basis - arguably the best historically informed way to deal with the absence of castrati is to cast women in these roles.
L’incoronazione features two significant castrato parts in Nerone and Ottone, both of whom fit the period stereotype of effeminacy (Ottone being ineffectual in his love for Poppea and unable to stand up to Ottavia, Nerone caring only about his sensuality rather than the running of his empire). It could be argued that this is an opera without a hero (even if Seneca is seen as a positive figure, his role is not large enough to qualify). Further contributing to the gender ambiguities is the fact that in the 17th-century the character of Poppea's old nurse Arnalta would have most likely been played by a high tenor in drag, although the role is sometimes played by a countertenor or a woman. Some parts - such as Amore and Valletto - may have been played by boy sopranos.
Further increasing gender blurring is the second-act scene between Nerone and Lucano, a court poet and Seneca’s nephew in history whose exact role is not well-defined in Busenello's libretto. In this scene Nerone praises Poppea in the company of Lucano in a duet, then sings a slower aria about her charms. It has a complex textual history, since all or part of it seems to have been omitted in the later Naples revival of the opera, suggesting censorship for its political and erotic implications. Musically this scene clearly suggests gradual build up to the point of sexual gratification unlike the more languorously sensual eroticism of the scenes between Nerone and Poppea. It is sometimes portrayed as a homosexual bond between two men emerging from love of the same woman, sometimes simply as an indication that Nerone’s omnivorous sexual appetite led to a disregard for the running of his empire. It is quite possible that Venetian audiences would have interpreted the scene as ‘effeminacy’ (loving excessively) distracting from ‘manly duties.’ If a modern interpretation implies violence in the encounter, then Nerone’s depravity and decadence is brought home more strongly.
Ottone’s effeminacy is highlighted in the opera at the end of the second act, when he disguises himself as Poppea’s maid Drusilla to attempt to kill Poppea in her sleep on Ottavia’s orders. In staging the relationship between Ottone and Drusilla directors face the challenge of conveying 17th-century ideas of gender relationships to modern audiences with very different ideas. In Venice, Drusilla’s decisiveness and drive in pursuing Ottone would have been seen as negative qualities, and Ottone would have been blamed for allowing the women in his life to control him. Today a strong ‘unruly woman’ like Drusilla is more likely to be seen as a positive figure: a woman who takes her destiny into her own hands by rescuing her beloved Ottone. These embodiments of homosexuality, cross-dressing, and gender construction on stage present significant challenges because what voice types and musical engendering implied to Venetian audiences is significantly different to modern audiences.
