Mozart La clemenza di Tito
Friday 24 January 2025 - 20 h
Sunday 26 January 2025 - 15 h
Tuesday 28 January 2025 - 20 h
Opera seria in two acts K. 621
Music by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791)
Libretto by Caterino Mazzolà based on Métastase and The Lives of the Twelve Caesars by Suetonius
Premiere: Prague, Stavovské divadlo [State Theater], 6 september 1791, to celebrate the coronation of Leopold II, King of Bohemia
As part of the Mozart à Monaco festival organized by the Orchestre Philharmonique de Monte-Carlo
New production, in coproduction with the Royal Danish Opera and Hamburg Staatsoper
Mozart’s La clemenza di Tito premiered in Prague where Austria’s Emperor Leopold II was crowned King of Bohemia. After an early success, it became saddled with a fusty image. Undoubtedly, the reason must be attributed to the libretto, which was considered outdated at a time when theatregoers had begun to share the views of the uprising bourgeois society, rather than those of the decadent nobility. La clemenza di Tito glorifies absolutism and the benevolent ruler. Such a subject matter would have seemed reactionary even at the opera’s world premiere in 1791, two years after the French revolution.
Today, this work fascinates us for the way in which Mozart broke free from the formal constraints of opera seria and wrote music of a poignancy which is indistinguishable from the rest of the glorious output at the end of his short life. This is a rare chance to see Cecilia Bartoli perform the part of Sesto on stage, where she is surrounded by a cast of equally passionate champions of Mozart’s wonderful music.
Les Musiciens du Prince – Monaco
MAÎTRES D’ŒUVRE
Direction musicale
Gianluca Capuano
Mise en scène
Jetske Mijnssen
Assistante à la mise en scène
Kim Mira Meyer
Décors et costumes
Ben Baur
Lumières
Bernd Purkrabek
Assistant aux lumières
Dino Strucken
Chef de chant
David Zobel
Chef de chœur
Stefano Visconti
SOLISTES
Tito
Giovanni Sala
Vitellia
Mané Galoyan
Sesto
Cecilia Bartoli
Servilia
Mélissa Petit
Annio
Anna Tetruashvili
Publio
Péter Kálmán
FIGURATION
Danseuse
Maud Boissière
CHŒUR DE L’OPÉRA DE MONTE-CARLO
Chef de chœur
Stefano Visconti
Consultant pour l’organisation musicale & assistant chef de chœur
Aurelio Scotto
Régisseuse du chœur & bibliothécaire
Colette Audat
Sopranos I
Galia BAKALOV
Chiara IAIA
Giovanna MINNITI
Felicity MURPHY
Leslie Olga Visco
Sopranos II
Rossella ANTONACCI
Letizia PIANIGIANI
Laura Maria ROMO CONTRERAS
VITTORIA GIACOBAZZI
Mezzo-sopranos
Teresa BRAMWELL-DAVIES
Géraldine MELAC
Suma MELLANO
Federica SPATOLA
Altos
ORNELLA CORVI
Catia PIZZI
Rosa TORTORA
Ténors I
Lorenzo CALTAGIRONE
Domenico CAPPUCCIO
Vincenzo DI NOCERA
Nicolo LA FARCIOLA
Ténors II
Fabio MARZI
Adolfo SCOTTO DI LUZIO
Salvatore TAIELLO
Barytons
Fabio BONAVITA
Vincenzo CRISTOFOLI
Kyle Patrick Sullivan
Przemyslaw Baranek
Basses
Paolo MARCHINI
Edgardo RINALDI
Matthew THISTLETON
LES MUSICIENS DU PRINCE - MONACO
General Manager
Margherita Rizzi Brignoli
Régisseurs orchestre
Nicolas Payan
Gleb Lyamenkov
Violons I
Enrico CASAZZA (leader)
Ágnes KERTÉSZ
Archimede Pietro DE MARTINI
Roberto RUTKAUSKAS
Anaïs SOUCAILLE
Muriel QUISTAD
Anna URPINA RIUS
Efix PULEO
Violons II
Nicolas MAZZOLENI (leader)
Massimo PERCIVALDI
Reyes GALLARDO
Gian Andrea GUERRA
Diego Moreno CASTELLI
Svetlana FOMINA
Laura CAVAZZUTI
Altos
Diego MECCA (leader)
Patricia GAGNON HUANG
Elisa IMBALZANO
Bernadette VERHAGEN
Violoncelles
Robin Geoffrey MICHAEL (leader)
Emilie WALLYN CROZATIER
Guillaume FRANCOIS
Nicola Brovelli
Contrebasses
Roberto FERNÁNDEZ DE LARRINOA (leader)
Clotilde GUYON
Flûtes
Martin SANDHOFF (leader)
Rebekka BRUNNER
Hautbois
Pier Luigi FABRETTI (leader)
Guido CAMPANA
Clarinettes
Francesco SPENDOLINI (leader)
Roberta CRISTINI
Bassons
Benny AGHASSI (leader)
Jeong-guk LEE
Cors d’harmonie
Ulrich HÜBNER (leader)
Emmanuel FRANKENBERG
Trompettes
Thibaud ROBINNE (leader)
Sebastian SCHÄRR
Percussions
Saverio RUFO
Pianoforte
Davide Pozzi
PERSONNEL DE SCENE
Directeur de scène
Xavier Laforge
Régisseur général
Elisabetta Acella
Régisseur de scène
Vanessa d’Ayral de Sérignac
Régisseur lumières
Léa Smith
Régisseur sur-titrage
Sarah Caussé
TECHNIQUE
Directeur technique
ND
Responsable du bureau d’études
Nicola Schmid
Chef machiniste
Olivier Kinoo
Yann Moreau
Chef machiniste adjoint
Franck Satizelle
Peintre décorateur
Laurent Barcelo
Serrurier métallier
Schama Imbert
Techniciens de plateau
Jean-Philippe FARAUT
David M'BAPPÉ
Nicolas MANCEL
Morgan DUBOUIL
Samuel CHARIERAS
Scott TASSONE
Jean-François CHOPIN
Khalid NEGRAOUI
Chef électricien et vidéo
Benoît Vigan
Chef électricien adjoint
Gaël Le Maux
Nicolas Alcaraz
Techniciens lumière
Grégory CAMPANELLA
Krystel OKWELANI BUNGU MASWA NTOTO
Florian CAPELLO
Andolin FANTI
Guillaume BREMOND
Pupitreurs lumières
Grégory Masse
Dylan Castori
Technicien vidéo
Felipe MANRIQUE
Chef accessoiriste
Audrey Moravec
Chef accessoiriste adjoint
Franck Escobar
Accessoiristes
Roland BIREN
Nicolas LEROY
Landry BASILE
Chef costumière-habilleuse
Eliane Mezzanotte
Chef costumière-habilleuse adjointe
Emilie Bouneau
Sous-chef costumière-habilleuse
Stéphanie Putegnat
Habilleurs
Véronique TETU
Nadine CIMBOLINI
Roxane AVELLO
Lauriane SENET
Karinne MARTIN
Edwige GALLI
Julie JACQUET
Florence CHAPUIS RINALDINO
Chef perruquière-maquilleuse
Déborah Nelson
Chef perruquière-maquilleuse adjointe
Alicia Bovis
Perruquiers
Corinne PAULÉ
Marilyn RIEUL
Agnès LOZANO
Maquilleurs
Francine RICHARD
Sophie KILIAN TERRIEN
Billetterie
Responsable billetterie
Virginie Hautot
Responsable adjointe billetterie
Jenna Brethenoux
Service billetterie
Ambre Gaillard
Dima Boughos
Assmaa Moussalli
Mr Mozart – La clemenza di Tito and Don Giovanni: two totally contrasting operas?
Indeed. The first is a stately affair with one of the most widely used opera seria libretti, whereas the other is a dramma giocoso which draws on a bawdy farce we had all seen in suburban playhouses or on fairgrounds.
So what do they have in common?
Prague! There has always been a competitive relationship between the Bohemian capital and Vienna, in my days the centre of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, to which Bohemia was subjected. But music education and music in general flourished there for centuries, whereas in Vienna, much of it remained within aristocratic circles and the Imperial Court. And as you will know, most of these people were not particularly well disposed towards my work. Prague was different, and many excellent theatres there run by private companies. One of them invited me to oversee a run of my Figaro. Its tremendous success made them order a new opera from me directly. I chose Don Giovanni, a subject which of course raised eyebrows at the conservative Viennese Court. In Prague, on the other hand, everyone loved it and was delighted that I had been willing to compose an opera for them. And thus, another commission from Prague arrived four years later, this time from the Bohemian Estates and for the celebration of the coronation of the Austrian Emperor Leopold II as King of Bohemia.
On the first night, the imperial couple arrived at the theatre one hour late. No wonder there was a restrained response from the audience… In the early 19th century, however, La clemenza di Tito became one of my most frequently performed operas! Later, it lost its following because the subject matter was considered outdated. Don Giovanni took the lead, together with The Magic Flute, which I composed at the same time as my Clemenza.
What about their music and style?
In Don Giovanni, I developed my ideas about structure and style further. The dramatic flow of the story determines everything, the music propels the action forward, underlines and controls what happens with the characters. The words, which are very natural, often funny or lewd, helped me a lot. I have the fantastic Lorenzo Da Ponte to thank for this.
But remember that in La clemenza di Tito, my librettist Caterino Mazzolà did a great job at tightening Metastasio’s plot and making the characters real. This story belongs to a forlorn age but I broke up the traditionally rigid succession of da capo arias to write more ensembles, bring in emotions, make it modern.
I’d never claim that I preferred one of them to the other, though: both are my children, and each of them beloved in its own right!
Rome, in the year AD80.
Act I
The Emperor Tito is in love with Berenice, daughter of the King of Judea, whom he is soon to marry. The jealous Vitellia, daughter of the deceased Emperor Vitellius, asks her young admirer Sesto to assassinate Tito. Although he is a close friend of the Emperor, Sesto will do anything to please Vitellia, so he accepts (no. 1, duet “Come ti piace imponi”). Sesto’s friend Annio enters and tells him that, in spite of their love for each other, for reasons of state Tito will not marry Berenice. Vitellia is hopeful he will choose her and asks Sesto to postpone the assassination plot. When he expresses his doubts whether she really loves him, she becomes annoyed and tells him she is tired of his complaints (no. 2, aria “Deh se piacer mi vuoi”). Annio reminds Sesto that he wants to marry his sister, Servilia. Sesto reaffirms their friendship and promises to intercede to obtain the Emperor’s consent (no. 3, duettino “Deh prendi un dolce amplesso”).
Tito arrives at the Capitol (no. 4, march) where he is acclaimed by the people of Rome who praise his power and sense of justice (no. 5, chorus “Serbate, oh Dei custody”). Alone with Sesto and Annio, Tito informs them that, as he is obliged to take a Roman woman as his wife, he intends to marry Servilia. Annio pretends to welcome his decision. Tito declares that the only joy of power lies in the possibility to help the oppressed and make his friends happy, for example by forging such family ties (no. 6, aria “Del più sublime soglio”). When Annio announces the Emperor’s intentions to Servilia, she assures him that she will never love anyone but him (no. 7, duet “Ah perdona al primo affetto”).
At the imperial palace, the captain of the guard, Publio, brings Tito the list of people who are criticizing him. But Tito doesn’t care about this: he explains to Publio the virtues of leniency. Servilia comes before the Emperor. She confesses that her heart is already taken by her beloved Annio. Tito thanks her for her honesty and assures her that he will not marry her against her will (no. 8 “Ah, se fosse intorno al trono”). Unaware of this turn of events, Vitellia is again consumed with jealousy and urges Sesto to immediately assassinate the Emperor according to their plan: set fire to the Capitol and stab Tito in the ensuing panic. Sesto hastens away to execute Vitellia’s orders, incapable of resisting her beauty (no. 9, aria “Parto, ma tu ben mio”). No sooner has he left, than Publio and Annio arrive to announce to Vitellia that Tito has chosen her to be his wife. Vitellia tries in vain to call Sesto back. Annio and Publio cannot understand why she is so horrified by this good news (no. 10, trio “Vengo... aspettate…”).
Sesto is wracked with guilt at the idea of betraying his friend Tito (no. 11, accompanied recitative “Oh Dei, che smania è questa”. But his accomplices have already set fire to the Capitol. He hastily slips away on seeing Annio. Vitellia, Servilia, Annio and Publio look for him everywhere. He re-enters, looking for somewhere to hide, and announces that Tito has been stabbed to death. He is about to confess his crime, but Vitellia urges him to remain silent (no. 12, quintet with chorus “Deh conservate, oh Dei”).
Act II
At the imperial palace Annio informs Sesto that the Emperor is still alive. Sesto confesses his betrayal, but refuses to give the reason. Annio advises him to confess everything to Tito and to hope for his forgiveness (no. 13, aria “Torna di Tito a lato”). Vitellia enters, begging Sesto to flee. But it is too late. Publio arrives with soldiers to arrest him: it was not Tito who had been stabbed but Lentulo, who had survived and denounced Sesto. Publio and his men take the assassin away. He begs Vitellia to remember his love and sacrifice for her (no. 14, trio “Se al volto mai ti senti”).
At the Senate the people of Rome give thanks to the gods for sparing Tito (no. 15, chorus “Ah grazie si rendano”).
In his office Tito tries to convince himself that Sesto could not have betrayed him. Unable to find peace until he knows the truth, he sends Publio to find out the Senate’s decision. The captain of the guard warns the Emperor against being too lenient (no. 16, aria “Tardi s’avvede”). Publio returns: Sesto has been condemned to be killed by wild animals. Annio arrives and begs for Tito’s clemency (no. 17, aria “Tu fosti tradito”). Tito is tormented by the idea of signing the death decree until he himself has questioned Sesto. He orders Sesto to be brought before him (accompanied recitative “Che orror! che tradimento”). A private conversation between the two friends begins, but it ends abruptly when Sesto, not wishing to implicate Vitellia, refuses to reveal his true motivations (no. 18, trio “Quello di Tito è il volto”). Tito is furious and dismisses Sesto. As he leaves, Sesto asks Tito not to forget their long friendship (no. 19, rondò “Deh per questo istante solo”). Tito signs the death decree but then changes his mind, unable to condemn a friend, even a disloyal one, to death (no. 20, aria “Se all’impero, amici Dei”). Tito accompanies Publio to the arena, crying out to the gods that he cannot reign as a cruel sovereign.
Servilia and Annio enter. On seeing Vitellia they beg her to intercede to save Sesto. Informed by her brother that her marriage is to take place that evening, she realises that Sesto has not denounced her and is deeply moved by his love and loyalty. Seeing how perturbed Vitellai is, Servilia again tries to arouse her pity (no. 21, aria “S’altro che lacrime”). Left alone, Vitellia understands that she cannot win the throne at the cost of Sesto’s life (no. 22, accompanied recitative “Ecco il punto, oh Vitellia”, and no. 23, rondò “Non più di fiori vaghe catene”).
At the arena the chorus declare their love for their Emperor (no.24, chorus “Che del ciel, che degli Dei”). Tito is about to pronounce Sesto’s death sentence when Vitellia throws herself at his feet and confesses that she is solely responsible for the assassination attempt. Taken aback, the Emperor explains that he had intended to pardon Sesto. In the end, he pardons all of the conspirators (no. 25, accompanied recitative “Ma che giorno è mai questo?”). Everyone praises Tito’s clemency and prays to the gods to grant him a long life, while the Emperor petitions the gods to end his life when he no longer cares about the well-being of Rome (no. 26, sextet with chorus “Tu, è ver, m’assolvi Augusto”).
On 5th September 1791, exactly three months to the day before his premature death, Mozart put the final touches to his penultimate opera, La clemenza di Tito (his last opera, The Magic Flute, would be presented in Vienna on 30th September). According to his first biographer, Franz Xaver Niemetschek (1798), it took him eighteen days to write this opera, his second for Prague after Don Giovanni in 1787. A commissioned work, Tito accompanied the coronation of Archduke Leopold II of Habsburg-Lorraine as King of Bohemia, who the previous year had succeeded his deceased brother Joseph II as ruler of Austria and the Holy Roman Empire. As Grand Duke of Tuscany, Leopold II proved his open-mindedness. A proponent of the principles of enlightenment, he was the first sovereign to abolish the death penalty. But when he ascended the throne of Austria in 1790 he inherited a tense political situation: his Hungarian and Bohemian vassals were increasingly restless, and in France, after the Revolution broke out, his sister Marie-Antoinette was in danger. Hence the choice of the theme that was entrusted to Mozart was crucial. They resorted to one of Metastasio’s most often used librettos. From 1730 to 1782 Metastasio was the official poet of the Court of Austria and the most important writer of opera seria libretti. Written in 1734 to celebrate the birthday of Leopold’s own grandfather, Charles VI, with music by Antonio Caldara, La clemenza di Tito would subsequently be set by another forty composers.
Since Idomeneo ten years earlier, Mozart had not composed any more opere serie. A predominant genre in baroque Europe (only France resisted), its splendour was fading, and its stereotypes no longer appealed to an avant garde and rebellious spirit such as the composer of The Marriage of Figaro. However, the solemnity of the circumstance required this most royal of all genres, where the display of vocal skills takes precedence and the characters, noble by birth as well as by their actions, are a clear reflection of the sovereign patron, or of the image he desired to project, i.e. that of an enlightened sovereign, thanks to whom order triumphs over chaos and compassion over hate and violence.
The coronation festivities took place over several days, but the most awaited event was Mozart’s opera that was to be premiered on the evening of the coronation, on 6th September. Yet the premiere was a failure. The free-entry performance drew a considerable crowd that was packed inside the cramped States Theatre. The wait was interminable and at the end of a very long day the public was impatient. The wife of Leopold II, Infanta Maria Louisa of Spain, dismissed it as “a German pigsty in Italian”. The ticketed performances the following days were more successful. The opera, often translated and mutilated, was performed throughout Germany. But during the 19th century it fell into a long purgatory, becoming the most misunderstood opera of Mozart’s mature years.
Claire Delamarche
Translated by Mary McCabe
La clemenza di Tito retains several features typical of opera seria. Compared to the sound balance imposed by classic and romantic opera, the vocal tessituras become high-pitched, with four of the six roles described by Mozart as “sopranos”: the two female roles, Vitellia and Servilia, that of Sesto (initially given to a castrato) and that of Annio (travesti) – in the Monte Carlo production these two roles are given back to female mezzo-sopranos. Tito, an emperor in the prime of life, is a tenor, whereas the captain Publio, representing authority, is a bass. In addition, following the tradition of opera seria and appropriate for the circumstance, Tito is a vocal firework display: the singers must have impeccable legato in the cantabile passages (the most melodious), as well as mastering the most fiery vocalizations.
However, in order to be in tune with its time, the libretto underwent some revisions. It was condensed from three to two acts. The secondary intrigue revolving around Annio and Servilia became lighter, and the authors concentrated mainly on moving away from the tiresome alternation of recitativo secco (accompanied only by basso continuo), action scenes, and the arie da capo, emotional scenes. Therefore they introduced duets, ensembles and choruses, as well as accompanied recitatives (i.e. accompanied by the orchestra) and applied more modern forms to the arias. The librettist, Caterino Mazzolà, the poet of the Elector of Saxony, accomplished his task brilliantly.
In three-part form, the aria da capo is in essence a form where the action comes to a standstill: its third and last section is a repetition of the first, da capo, i.e. from the beginning. The only aria in this form goes to the title role, perhaps a way of expressing his respect for the law. However, the aria (no. 20 “Se all’impero, amici Dei”) sees Tito rebelling against the obligation for an emperor to have a cruel heart. However, this aria da capo then goes back, adapting itself to the fairly static text. Its vocal magnificence, combined with the variety of the orchestral accompaniment, makes it one of the score’s most beautiful pieces – and one of the most eminently Mozartian. Moreover, it falls within a broader structure, a long meditation on power preceded by Tito’s accompanied recitative (“Che orror! che tradimento!”), his dialogue with Sesto in Publio’s presence (no. 18, trio “Quello di Tito è il volto”), and Sesto’s plea for Tito’s friendship (no. 19, rondò “Deh per questo istante solo”).
The da capo form – where the repetition provided traditionally the opportunity for the most exhilarating vocal embellishments – was no longer in tune with the spirit of the times, where the dramatic prerequisites took precedence over those of the singing. After the change of mindset in the middle section, it was no longer question for the character to go back as if nothing had happened. Hence, this three-part form left room in Tito for two-part slow/ lively arias crowned with a coda. In no. 19, Sesto’s “Deh per questo istante solo”, and no. 23, Vitellia’s “Non più di fiori vaghe catene”, that are more extensive and ambitious constructions (the thematic material of the slow section metamorphosed and nurturing the rapid section), this type of aria is called rondò. And in the cases where the coda is particularly developed and exultant, such as Sesto’s aria no. 9, “Parto, ma tu ben mio” one senses the first signs – in, as yet, still modest proportions – of the cantabile / tempo di mezzo / cabalette construction that will be a key element to the success of Italian romantic opera.
Sesto’s “Parto, ma tu ben mio” and Servilia’s rondò figure among the most original numbers, as Mozart slips in enchanting clarinet parts composed for his friend Anton Stadler. Sesto’s aria is written for basset clarinet, a standard clarinet with extended lower range that was invented by Stadler (just before his death Mozart composed two other masterpieces for this instrument and its spiritual father: Clarinet Quintet K.581 in 1789, and Clarinet Concerto K.562, written shortly after Tito). Here, the most “vocal” of the wind instruments vies in volubility with the voice, the extension to the lower range allows rapid descents and ascents over more than three octaves, an inaccessible range for any normal human voice. The first movement (adagio) conveys his pain at leaving Vitellia. The second (allegro) expresses his determination to avenge his beloved. And the coda, even more lively (allegro assai), displays his wild exhilaration.
Vitellia’s rondò brings in the basset horn, i.e. an alto clarinet, pitched below the ordinary clarinet in B flat or A. Introduced by an accompanied recitative, it has nothing to envy to Elvira’s and Fiordiligi’s great pieces in Don Giovanni and Così fan tutte respectively. Its form, both supple and haunting, adapts perfectly to the psychological reversals of the ambitious and sensitive princess, whereas a repetition of da capo would have obliterated the entire structure: the character starts to crack, Vitellia realises Sesto’s sacrifice and, horrified by the spectre of her own death (a chilling descent into the lower register), she at last comes to her senses and resolves to go and confess her crimes.
The most powerful moment is an addition by Mozart and Mazzolà: the quintet with choir that acts as finale to Act I, no. 12 “Deh conservate, oh Dei”. An eloquent apogee of the work and the turning point of the tragedy, we have here proof of Mozart’s dramatic genius: the action evolves, not thanks to the recitatives, but to the series of different musical elements. Sesto seems to be singing an aria that soon gives way to a terrifying concertato (an ensemble where the characters enter in succession) by Servilia, Annio and Publio, interjected by the choir: the Capitol is in flames. Sesto’s rapid exit and his reappearance on stage corresponds to the regicide, perpetrated behind the curtain. In the wings the choir take over from the five soloists to sadly comment the tragic events. In just a few minutes we have gone from a horror reminding us of the death of Don Giovanni to a scene of desolation worthy of the Requiem that had been commissioned from Mozart a month and a half before the premiere of Tito.
With these additions and innovations, Mazzolà and Mozart break away from the essence of opera seria, even though they retained several external aspects. The characters no longer have the stereotyped nature of Metastasio’s where a star singer is allowed to replace an aria or another with his favourite pieces – insertion arias – but do little harm to the overall performance. At the crossroad of a dying genre and a dawning romanticism, Tito also suffered from the fact that Mozart had never been an authentic tragedian: he is at his most moving in a dramma giocoso like Don Giovanni, or in the intimacy of his instrumental music – the slow movements of quartets or concertos that open up deep chasms. However, Mozart and Mazzolà sowed the destructive seeds by moving Metastasian opera from seria to tragic, but gently, without renouncing the lieto fine, the imperative happy ending. But Mozart’s penultimate opera goes beyond Metastasio’s wildest dreams, an unconventional but inevitable link with a line of sovereigns gripped by the doubt that would culminate in Verdi’s Philippe II (Don Carlos) and Simon Boccanegra.
Claire Delamarche
Translated by Mary McCabe