Hob. # |
Genre |
Voice |
Name |
Opera / Composer |
24b:16 |
Aria |
Tenor |
Da che penso a maritiarmi |
for the character 'Titta' - in L'amore artigiano by Gassman |
24b:17 |
Aria |
Mezzo |
Il megliomio carattere |
for the character 'Merlina' – in L'impresario in angustie by Cimarosa |
24b:18 |
Aria |
Mezzo |
La moglie quando è buona |
for the character 'Giannina' – in Giannina e Bernadone by Cimarosa |
24b:19 |
Aria |
Soprano |
La mia pace, Oh Dio |
for the character 'Costanza' – in L'amore artigiano by Gassman |
24b:22 |
Aria |
Tenor |
Tornate pur mia bella |
for a Tenor - Opera unknown |
24b:23 |
Aria |
Mezzo |
Via siate bonino |
for a Soprano - Opera unknown |
26b:02 |
Cantata |
Soprano |
Arianna a Naxos |
Soprano with Fortepiano |
After once beginning this as the sort of detective story it deserves to be, I've decided to save the thought for later and instead to revel in the beauty of the work which we actually have to hand.
The story of Arianna (Ariadne), abandoned on the Isle of Naxos by her lover Theseus, is a classic of Greek literature. While there appear to be many variations on the story, and motivations given for the sequence of events, the essential part which concerns us here is not in dispute; our story involves Ariadne awakening, expecting to discover Theseus at her side, then telling herself where he might be, but coming to the realization that he is gone and not coming back. It is tragedy at its finest!
As we saw long ago with cantatas, they are alternations of a recitative and an aria. In this one, there are two of each. The opening Adagio recitative has Arianna awakening and greeting the dawn, then suddenly noticing that Theseus is gone. When she discovers he isn't there, she equivocates; he is hunting perhaps, and calls to him to come back. In the following aria, she begins to fear the worst and there is some desperation beginning to show in her cries of 'Where are you?'.
The second recitative is totally based on her panic; when there is no reply except for Echo and the waves, she climbs a nearby cliff and sees his ship far off, sailing away. She realizes she is abandoned and rails against her fate. The Aria finale expresses her despair; she asks for death, but the gods have decreed that she live on, alone and abandoned.
This is one of those works in which Haydn has taken a simplicity of means and produced a work which is far greater than the sum of its parts. From a technical point of view, the range of the voice is less than a chromatic octave (from b to gb). In his later work Scena di Berenice, the vocal range is two full octaves. Nor is there any coloratura or other operatic device. What this cantata really requires from the singer is a range, not of notes, but of emotion and passion!
The more difficult part is for the pianist. In this period, beginning in 1788 when Haydn got his Schanz fortepiano, his keyboard works have gotten more and more intricate and involved. Here, we find him basically creating a new genre, where the accompaniment for this cantata is not a small orchestra, nor is it a continuo being realized by either a keyboard or other continuo instrument, it is a fully through-composed pianoforte, which is so entwined with the voice as to be inextricable. Even though Haydn had promised Bland to write an orchestral accompaniment in London, he never did, and the ones which were tried are not nearly as effective as just the solo piano.
As far as we know, the piece received its première in January, 1790, at one of the weekly musical salons held at the Genzinger home. We have seen in Haydn's letter from Eszterháza that he was teaching it to Marianne's daughter, his student Josepha (Peperl):
[snip] My good friend Fraulein Peperl will (I hope) be reminded of her teacher by singing the Cantata frequently; she should remember to have a distinct articulation and a correct vocal production, for it would be a crime if so beautiful a voice were to remain hidden in her breast; so therefore I ask her to smile frequently, lest I be disappointed in her. [snip]
Estoras, 9th February 1790.
So this is clearly one of its intended uses, to satisfy the talented amateur class of Viennese musicians. When we get to London, we will see quite another use; it was more than enough to satisfy the professionals too!
Leaving the Opera Behind
When we think about music in the post-Romantic era, the first thing most of us think of is instrumental music. Since the 18th century became the 19th, which is about the time when philosophers decided that instrumental music could actually speak to them, it achieved preeminence in Western music. From time to time in this series, I have touched upon Haydn's preference for, and true belief in, the supremacy of vocal music. In the earlier part of his career, he considered his non-vocal works to be merely time-fillers, and later on, they were money-makers. But we are even now entering the stage where the focus was shifting away from vocal music. The irony of all this, to me, is Haydn's role in creating instrumental music of such quality that it opened doors for other composers and cultural commentators to walk through.
Haydn's love of vocal music was scarcely unique in his time. It was one of many tastes which he shared with his patron, Prince Nicholas. As we remember, Nicholas didn't hire Haydn, rather he came as part of the inheritance from brother Paul. As a result of this, if Haydn hadn't shown a decided talent for writing opera when he composed Acide in 1762, the next twenty-eight years could have turned out very differently! Certainly, when Werner passed on in 1766, and it was time to either make Haydn the Kapellmeister or not, this talent for opera figured into the decision-making. Two years later, the preludes were past, and a new era began in Eszterháza. From 1768 until September of 1790, Haydn presided over the largest private opera enterprise in Central Europe!
We looked at the main performances in the years in which they occurred. Almost the only records still in existence for the period from 1768 to 1775 involve Haydn's own works, although it is highly likely other works were performed also. The 'new' opera house (which burned in 1779 and became the 'old' opera house in 1781) likely saw its main use in those days as a venue for concerts and dramatic plays, with only the occasional opera. In 1773, it was joined by yet another theater, this one for marionette operas. This provided yet another opportunity for Haydn to write and edit vocal music. But it was not until 1776, when a regular full-time opera season began, where we will see the entire focus of Haydn's job shift to opera writing. I have read implications, usually made by people who don't think in 18th century terms, that Haydn must have resented being turned into an opera impresario, when surely he was born to be an instrumental composer. All of that is so much twaddle, however. Until nearly the very end of his career at Eszterháza, he never expressed the slightest discontent with his actual job duties. And any occasion in which his actual words are displayed in reference to music, he valued vocal music above all.
What was Haydn's actual accomplishment during the heyday of the Opera House(s)? Of his own compositions, he wrote seven Italian operas before the regular opera season was instituted, and he wrote seven more after, for a total of fourteen operas between 1763 and 1783. In addition, he wrote an unknown number of marionette operas, a good guess would be five. In the time frame of the regular season, that is the fifteen year period from 1776 to 1790, if one subtracts his own works, he prepared for performance at least 81 operas by other composers, an average of five per year of new works, along with any changes needed in revivals. Many of these reworkings were the equivalent of writing a new opera! Plus, there are approximately twenty insertion arias still extant and many others known by reference to them. In the ten year period of the 'New' Opera House (1781 – 90), there are documented over a thousand performances, which reached a peak of one hundred twenty-five in 1786. Haydn conducted every one of them!
Why the emphasis on opera now? Along with all the other changes which overtook Haydn in 1790 was this major one: other than composing one more, which as we shall see, was not performed in his lifetime, on September 28, 1790, Haydn underwent as total a break with the genre as can be imagined. His major occupation for the last 20 years is completely gone. While he will rework or compose a few Scena's, and cantatas, and even a handful of concert arias, his days as an opera specialist are over. Whatever his feelings about leaving Eszterháza behind, one can't help but think it was with mixed feelings that he saw this huge part of his former career disappear in the rearview mirror along with it.
Next time, we will gather up all the loose ends of 1790. There is more music too, but it is wrapped up with the events to such a point that they must be told together.
Thanks for reading!