It is astonishing to think that for many decades
La Clemenza di Tito was rarely performed, for it contains some of Mozart's most gorgeous music and is, in many respects, as find a work as any of his other great operas. His musical depiction of multifaceted characters, his breath-taking invention, his blending of voices and his interweaving of singers and solo instruments all combie to create a compelling drama of exquisite beauty.
There were several reasons for the opera's obscurity. The pivotal role of Sesto was written for a castrato (a male soprano), a type of singer that vanished from the scene shortly after the opera premiered, in 1791. Also, while Clemenza's formal and serious qualities made it the most popular of Mozart's operas during the neo-Classical period of the early 19th Century, it fell out of favour with the rise of Romanticism. However, as Mozart biographer H.C. Robbins Landon has observed, after renewed attention in the last half of the 20th century, opera lovers have come to consider it "a work of considerable psychological insight, contaning at least an hour of the greatest work Mozart was capable of writing." In recent year, knowledgable producers have explored its moral and emotional complexities (not to mention its many mysteries) through a contemporary lens, and to great effect. This mounting, directed by Chas Rader-Shieber and designed by David Zinn, originated at Santa Fe Opera in 2002.
Globe and Mail reviewer Paula Citron described the production as "radiant...The totality of Rader-Shieber's staging was simply breath-taking in its clairyt of situation, moood and emotional realism.
Considering the greatness of the work, it is remarkable that Mozart composed it in great haste. In July 1791, while still working on another masterpiece,
The Magic Flute, he was approached by the singer/impresario Domenico Guardasoni, director of the National Theatre in Prague, who had been ordere - on two months' notice - to supply a new opera for the coronation of Emperor Leopold II as the new king of Bohemia.
Mozart was the second choice for the commission. Guardasoni had first offered it to Mozart's (in fact, every composer's) rival Antonion Sallieri, the "Kapellmeister" at the Imperial Court of Vienna, but Salieri was heavily engaged on other projects and could not accept.
With so little time available, a new libretto was not attempted; instead, Guardasoni turned to one that had been written more than fifty years earlier by the esteemed Vienna court poet Metastasio (Pietro Antonio Domenico Trapassi) and that had already been used forty times by other composers, including Gluck.
But its form was old-fashioned: it containted long recitatives and strings of arias. The current court poet, Caterino Mazzola, was brought in to make it more contemporary, to turn it into what Mozart called a "true" opera. This involved shortening the libretto, turning three acts into two, replacing some arias with duets, trios and choruses, typical of "serious" Italian opera, and creating a superb first-act finale (in this case a quintet with chorus), typical of comical opera.
Estimates vary as to how many days it took Mozart to composer
La Clamenza di Tito, but it is safe to conclude that the bulk of the opera was written in an astounding three-week period. The oft-performed overture was composed at the last minute, in Prague, where on September 6, 1791, the opera premiered.
Clemenza's subject matter - an emperor who applies reason, compassion and kindness in the face of an attempt on his life - was well suited to this particular coronation. Leopold had shown leadership during two decades as the Grand Duke of Tuscany when, among other things, he abolished torture. More importantly, the opera represented the ideals of the Age of Englightenment, still very much alie in Prague. Meanwhile, in France, the Revolution was becoming increasingly violent, constitutional crisis was looming and Leopold's younger sister, Marie Antoinette, along with her husband Louis XVI, was becoming a target.
Mozart had become seriously ill during the run of
Clemenza, but he was sufficiently recovered to conduct the premiere of
The Magic Flute three weeks later, in Vienna. Within two months, though, he was dead. As Landon has written, "It has taken perhaps two hundred years for the world to realize fully and in all its aspects what this loss has meant to music - and to humanity."
On February 5, 8, 10 and 12, you will experience a shining example of his work for the stage - too long overlooked and now endlessly rewarding for all who are privildged to hear and see it.
~ Doug Tuck, Director of Marketing and Community Programs
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