Myths and Legends
Francesco Cavalli: La Calisto, Royal Opera House, 27 September 2008.
The ancient myth of the chaste nymph Callisto, devoted follower of Diana, and her son Arcas has come down to us mainly in the form of Ovid’s Metamorphosis dating from the first century AD. Jupiter, failing to seduce Callisto in his own form, adopts that of her beloved Diana. Nine months later, obliged to skinny-dip with her companion nymphs, her pregnancy is revealed and she gives birth to Arcas. In her shame she is metamorphosed into a bear. Fifteen years after this, they encounter each other. Arcas is on the point of slaying his mother when Jupiter intervenes and transports them to the heavens to form the Great Bear constellation.
Sixteen hundred years after Ovid, the Venetian composer Francesco Cavalli with librettist Giovanni Faustini bases his opera Calisto (first performed in 1651) on the story, following the operatic conventions and mores of the time, introducing a secondary ‘love’ interest of Diana, and a wide cast of other mythological creatures. Giove (Jupiter – from here on I adopt the Italianate form of the names) has a sidekick Mercurio (also his son), the admirer of Diana (his daughter) is Endimione; the comic element is provided by Linfea, a nymph of maturer years, and her pursuers Pane, Silvano and Satirino. Calisto’s pregnancy is omitted. Giove’s suspicious and jealous spouse Giunone adds to the drama.
The opera was not performed again until Raymond Leppard revived it in his own rather sedate arrangement at Glyndebourne in 1970 with Ileana Cotrubas as Calisto, Janet Baker and James Bowman as Diana and Endimione; this was seen on tour in Oxford in 1973 featuring the delectable Jill Gomez. Despite that memorable revival, the opera remains undeservedly unknown, featuring in few opera dictionaries. The production under review, directed by David Alden, is the property of Bavarian State Opera and dates from 2005; its revival at the Royal Opera House has much of the original cast, showing no sign of fatigue. Unlike the Glyndebourne production, this is in the spirit of its sources, Ovid and Faustini, reflecting contemporary standards of moral and sexual preoccupation. The notion of Leppard’s cast participating in this bawdy twenty-first century version is unthinkable.
The production is from start to finish a riot of art deco colour and design with sets by Paul Steinberg and costumes by Buli Shiff, with fantastical mythical beasts; Giunone is escorted by two tall figures with peacock-tail head-dresses and endless chorus-girl legs, snake, sheep, winged horse, cow and goat accompany the lubricious Pane, Silvano and Satirino. Sources differ as to the details of Calisto’s transformation and apotheosis. According to the Greek myth, Jove is responsible, to shield her from the wrath of Artemis (Diana), in Ovid it occurs while Diana is beating her up. Faustini has Giunone transform her to make her no longer attractive to Giove, while Alden has her forced by an elegantly dressed Giunone to don a bear-skin costume delivered in gift wrapped boxes. Arden restores, on stage, the birth of Arcas and the symbolic death of Calisto at the hands of the nymphs, before taking her place in the heavens.
Cavalli’s music is supremely suited to this steamy entertainment performed in impeccable period style by Ivor Bolton conducting the Monteverdi Continuo Ensemble with members of the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment. All the cast were marvellous. At the time of writing this I remember in particular the charm and naiveté of Calisto, portrayed by Sally Matthews and the more mature bisexual attractions of Monica Bacelli as Diana. There was great character acting from the cross-dressed Guy de May as the predatory Linfea, with an arrow-stuffed handbag, Markus Werba was a mercurial Mercurio and Ed Lyon, Clive Bailey and Dominique Visse, the outrageous trio, Pane, Silvano and Satirino; Giove, a haughty Giunone, a desperate housewife, and Endimione were played by Umberto Chiummo, Véronique Gens and Lawrence Zazzo.
It is an indication of changed attitudes since 1970 and of the spirit of this production that the depiction of Diana giving relief to a dreaming Endimione was met with healthy laughter rather than shock-horror from the enthusiastic audience.
Francesco Cavalli: La Calisto, Royal Opera House, 27 September 2008.
The ancient myth of the chaste nymph Callisto, devoted follower of Diana, and her son Arcas has come down to us mainly in the form of Ovid’s Metamorphosis dating from the first century AD. Jupiter, failing to seduce Callisto in his own form, adopts that of her beloved Diana. Nine months later, obliged to skinny-dip with her companion nymphs, her pregnancy is revealed and she gives birth to Arcas. In her shame she is metamorphosed into a bear. Fifteen years after this, they encounter each other. Arcas is on the point of slaying his mother when Jupiter intervenes and transports them to the heavens to form the Great Bear constellation.
Sixteen hundred years after Ovid, the Venetian composer Francesco Cavalli with librettist Giovanni Faustini bases his opera Calisto (first performed in 1651) on the story, following the operatic conventions and mores of the time, introducing a secondary ‘love’ interest of Diana, and a wide cast of other mythological creatures. Giove (Jupiter – from here on I adopt the Italianate form of the names) has a sidekick Mercurio (also his son), the admirer of Diana (his daughter) is Endimione; the comic element is provided by Linfea, a nymph of maturer years, and her pursuers Pane, Silvano and Satirino. Calisto’s pregnancy is omitted. Giove’s suspicious and jealous spouse Giunone adds to the drama.
The opera was not performed again until Raymond Leppard revived it in his own rather sedate arrangement at Glyndebourne in 1970 with Ileana Cotrubas as Calisto, Janet Baker and James Bowman as Diana and Endimione; this was seen on tour in Oxford in 1973 featuring the delectable Jill Gomez. Despite that memorable revival, the opera remains undeservedly unknown, featuring in few opera dictionaries. The production under review, directed by David Alden, is the property of Bavarian State Opera and dates from 2005; its revival at the Royal Opera House has much of the original cast, showing no sign of fatigue. Unlike the Glyndebourne production, this is in the spirit of its sources, Ovid and Faustini, reflecting contemporary standards of moral and sexual preoccupation. The notion of Leppard’s cast participating in this bawdy twenty-first century version is unthinkable.
The production is from start to finish a riot of art deco colour and design with sets by Paul Steinberg and costumes by Buli Shiff, with fantastical mythical beasts; Giunone is escorted by two tall figures with peacock-tail head-dresses and endless chorus-girl legs, snake, sheep, winged horse, cow and goat accompany the lubricious Pane, Silvano and Satirino. Sources differ as to the details of Calisto’s transformation and apotheosis. According to the Greek myth, Jove is responsible, to shield her from the wrath of Artemis (Diana), in Ovid it occurs while Diana is beating her up. Faustini has Giunone transform her to make her no longer attractive to Giove, while Alden has her forced by an elegantly dressed Giunone to don a bear-skin costume delivered in gift wrapped boxes. Arden restores, on stage, the birth of Arcas and the symbolic death of Calisto at the hands of the nymphs, before taking her place in the heavens.
Cavalli’s music is supremely suited to this steamy entertainment performed in impeccable period style by Ivor Bolton conducting the Monteverdi Continuo Ensemble with members of the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment. All the cast were marvellous. At the time of writing this I remember in particular the charm and naiveté of Calisto, portrayed by Sally Matthews and the more mature bisexual attractions of Monica Bacelli as Diana. There was great character acting from the cross-dressed Guy de May as the predatory Linfea, with an arrow-stuffed handbag, Markus Werba was a mercurial Mercurio and Ed Lyon, Clive Bailey and Dominique Visse, the outrageous trio, Pane, Silvano and Satirino; Giove, a haughty Giunone, a desperate housewife, and Endimione were played by Umberto Chiummo, Véronique Gens and Lawrence Zazzo.
It is an indication of changed attitudes since 1970 and of the spirit of this production that the depiction of Diana giving relief to a dreaming Endimione was met with healthy laughter rather than shock-horror from the enthusiastic audience.