Semele
Synopsis
Act One
It is the wedding day of Semele, the daughter of Cadmus, King of Thebes, and many citizens gather to take part in the ceremony. A priest performs a formal rite in honor of Juno, goddess of marriages and wife of Jupiter. Juno looks favorably upon the union and gives her blessing in the form of several auspicious omens. Yet Semele remains emotionally detached from the joyous event, and neither the pleading of her father nor that of her fiancé Athamas can convince her to join the celebration. For she has fallen in love with the god Jupiter, commonly called Jove, and cannot reconcile her passion for an immortal with her worldly duties to father and society. After Semele privately ponders the situation, comparing her own sighs to the song of the lark, her sister Ino gives public voice to her own suppressed torment. Cadmus seeks to discover the cause of her woe, just as Semele and Athamas each offer consolation in their own way, but Ino feels it useless to disclose the truth: that she secretly loves Athamas. Suddenly a roll of thunder is heard, announcing Jove’s anger and opposition to the marriage. There is a struggle for control of the sacrificial flame to the goddess Juno, but eventually the fires are extinguished on the altar, a sign that Jupiter dissents and may punish those who participate in the ceremony. The crowd flees in fear, leaving Athamas and Ino alone. Though they disclose a mutual, hidden passion for one another, both are aware that their wishes cannot be realized in the shadow of Cadmus. The king returns and announces the upsetting effect of a divine intervention: Semele has been carried off by Jupiter in the form of an eagle and transported to his realm, where she enjoys endless pleasure and endless love.
Juno, also known as Saturnia, is angry with her husband Jupiter for yet another of his typical dalliances with mortal women, and she vows to find Semele and to destroy their happiness. To this end, Juno confers with the goddess Iris, who has returned from an exhaustive search for the hiding place where Jove keeps his mistress. Iris describes their love nest and the obstacles that block access from the outside: large stone gates and dragons that would cause even a god to fear. Juno hatches a plan to surmount these barriers with the help of Somnus, the god of sleep, and quickly departs with Iris to find him. Meanwhile, in her hidden retreat, Semele complains as she wakes to discover herself ignored by Jupiter and wishes she could return to the comforting delusions of sleep and dreams. When Jupiter joins his lover, she relates her loneliness and longing, and at first he attempts to assuage her concerns with empty promises of fidelity. Because she yearns for attention, Semele takes some assurance from his pledge that even in physical absence, he remains with her in the form of Love and Desire. Yet as a mortal with human emotions, Semele cannot fully stifle the pain and fear she experiences without Jupiter. The god begins to wonder whether his mistress has designs on immortality. Jupiter invites Semele to enjoy the pastoral beauties around her, yet for all the delights of the natural world, she remains restless and unsettled.
Act Two
Juno and Iris attempt to recruit Somnus to help break up the love affair between Jupiter and Semele, but true to form, the god of sleep is too tired to care. However, when Juno promises to grant him love with Pasithea, a nymph previously ravished by Jupiter in the form of a bull, Somnus wakes with lust and vitality. Juno bribes him to manipulate sleep in three ways: to sink Jupiter into a lustful dream of Semele, so he will wake and grant her any wish; to give Juno his leaden rod, so she may subdue the gods and enter Jupiter’s retreat; and to force Ino into slumber, so Juno can disguise herself as Semele’s sister. When Juno meets Semele, the divine camouflage works, and the goddess instantly gains the girl’s confidence. Juno (as Ino) innocently asks whether Semele has been granted immortality, knowing that the question will stir up enduring unhappiness. To further entice her, Juno (as Ino) offers a mirror to Semele and invites her to gaze at her own face, already transformed to the perfection of a goddess. When Juno (as Ino) suggests an opportunity for Semele to attain the status of a god, she falls into the trap and asks for the details. Semele is led to believe that if Jupiter appears before her in his unmasked, godlike form instead of first transforming himself into the shape of a man, she will become immortal as well. Semele thanks Ino (really Juno) for the advice and promises to pursue it. Jupiter returns to Semele and expects her to embrace him without delay, but she hesitates and complains that he never grants any of her requests, although she gives him everything. Jupiter swears an oath to fulfill any desire, and Semele asks that he appear to her unconcealed, in his natural form as Jove. Realizing too late he’s made a rash promise, Jupiter rebukes himself, for he knows that Semele cannot survive such a revelation. Misled and blind to her own safety, Semele refuses to take back her request, while Juno celebrates the impending doom and her own triumph. Jupiter appears in his godlike form, unable to prevent the death of Semele, as Cadmus, Athamas, and Ino observe, all equally powerless. Those who witness the immolation respond with terror and seek to find a meaning for the loss: that overwhelmed by the allure of power and celebrity, we lose sight of ourselves, and in so doing, perish.
- posted on 09/22/2006
Semele - George Frideric Handel
What better sort of character to make the heroine of an opera? Semele was a Theban princess and the only mortal to be the parent of a god, that God none other than Dionysus/Bacchus, offspring of Semele's union with Zeus/Jupiter. Of course, Zeus' wife Hera/Juno was less than pleased with the goings on, so she schemed Semele to a nasty end, consumed in flames from the lightning that radiated from her lover. Dionysus, a heaven-sent son, rescued his mother from Hades, made her a goddess, and set her up in style on Mount Olympus, a very good address indeed.
Handel wrote Semele (to a libretto by William Congreve, in turn based on Ovid) as an opera, but in its early productions it was staged as oratorio; styles had changed in London and oratorios were a lot easier on the budget as well. Opera or oratorio, there is a certain static quality to these baroque works, constructed of a series of set pieces; modern audiences are generally more accustomed to a less stylized dramatic flow. But Handel oratorios can play well as fully staged opera (see our review of Saul) and Semele is rich in elegant music affording ample opportunities for virtuoso singing and telling characterizations.
Handel begins with Semele abandoning her betrothed, Athamas, in favor of her celestial lover and ends with her death. (Dionysus has been left out, though in the Copley production he is given a token appearance in the final tableau.) This Semele, initially motivated by passionate love, later becomes dissatisfied, coveting the immortality of the gods. Her presumption and vanity are in the classic model of hubris, so that her fate - death resulting from exposure to the full godliness of her lover - constitutes a fitting and ironic resolution in the traditional classical mode.
San Francisco Opera has imported John Copley's 1982 production from Covent Garden and managed to assemble Mr. Copley to direct, Charles Mackerras to conduct (some performances) as he did for the 1982 production, and Ruth Ann Swenson for the eponymous role, reprising her London success in the 1996 revival.
Copley has found just the right tone to bring Semele to a modern audience, treating the music with great respect, but drawing out much surely intended humor and gently satirizing the form as well. The sets are in the style of the early 18th century, even to mimicking the effects of the stage machinery of the period. In the midst of classical columns and outsized vases, the lead women wear elaborate, layered gowns in the 18th century style, but highly theatricalized - there is an abundance of crinolines, brocades, nettings, trains, beading, tassels, jewels. It is an amusing excess, evincing thoughts more of upholstery than of haute couture. The men and the choruses are garbed more in the Grecian manner, the whole in a range of smoky colors, from pale beiges to soft pinks to faded lavenders, with the occasional highlights of red and gold. The period is rococo, but the look here somehow feels infused with a Victorian sensibility.
It is the women who dominate the proceedings and it is hard to conceive these roles better served than by Ruth Ann Swenson and Sarah Connolly, the latter in the dual roles of Juno and Semele's sister, Ino. From start to finish Swenson is a source of pure pleasure, producing limpid tones and effortless fioriture. In the astounding aria "Myself I shall adore" she combines bravura singing with laugh-out-loud humor and, when you think she's surely got to run out of steam, launches into yet one more display of exquisite coloratura. It seems that Diva Swenson doesn't have to breathe as mere mortals do.
Connolly, in an auspicious San Francisco debut, sang impeccably with her burnished and precisely placed mezzo, displayed a great gift for comic acting, and radiated star quality of her own. In the much smaller role of Iris, Juno's messenger, Christine Brandes added yet another fine voice and lively personality to the mix. Amongst the men, John Relyea, played dual roles as Cadmus (Semele's father) and Somnus (the god of sleep). In solid voice, Relyea also displayed a Gilbert and Sullivan sort of comic talent as Somnus, complete with clouds of dust and a taste for underage girls. Brian Asawa as Athamas seemed strained and uncomfortable. As Jupiter, John Mark Ainsley did not seem to be operating in the same league as the women; last night, in any event, he did not produce pleasing sounds, but a consistently thin and unappealing tone. John Copley's direction drew relaxed and natural performances from his leads, particularly in the comical bits, and he kept the onstage processions moving smoothly along.
It's probably a good guess that this Semele was staged due to Ruth Ann Swenson's relationship with San Francisco Opera. There's nothing at all wrong with that. What seems a little sad is that without Ms. Swenson Semele might never have been considered at all. It surely will be remembered as a highlight of the season.
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网上阅读些资料。 - posted on 09/24/2006
昨晚看了,清唱剧(神剧)的序幕,政治讽刺剧(俗剧)的本子。
享德尔的声乐功力不可比拟。
这里有些历史背景:
The story of Semele, Performed after the manner of an oratorio.
In 1714, The Hanoverian George I had succeeded to the throne peacefully,
an attempted invasion in 1715 easily crushed. George II had succeeded him
in 1727 to the accompaniment of Handel's sublime anthems, and while the
Stuarts continued to claim the British throne (and would try one last time in
1745), as far as the British establishment was concerned, the matter was
settled. By 1744, social attitudes towards royal adultery, female sexuality,
and the place of women had changed considerably, and in that context Semele
had acquired a political coloring quite different than that imagined by Congreve.
In 1735, on a visit to Hanover, George II had begun an affair with Amalie
von Wallmoden (reporting the progress of the liaison in detail to his wife,
Queen Caroline!). Two years later, following Caroline's death, Wallmoden came to England. She was naturalized and created Countess of Yarmouth,
with an income of 4000 pound a year. Unfamiliar with British politics, she seems to have abstained from using her emotional and political power
over the King for several years. By the early 1740s, however, she was perceived by the public to wield a strong influence. She was alleged to have
been involved with the peerage creations in 1741, and around 1743 she was
the subject of an anonymous pamphlet which congratulated her on engineering
Prime Minster Walpole's fall from office. 'Semele' could easily be seen as
a representation of the over-ambitious royal mistress who uses her sexual
power to manipulate a weak-willed monarch.
'Semele's wary reception illustrates a crucial change in English public's
attitudes toward their leaders. In the seventeenth and early eighteenth
centuries, it was virtually required for the monarch to have mistresses as
proof of his virility. Queen Caroline has accepted this and tried to engineer
mistresses for her husband who would not wield excessive personal or
political influence. George II enjoyed the satires that circulated about his
affair because they publicized his manly virtues. In publick perception,
however, there was always a fine line between natural virility and being in
thrall to women, and in the early eighteenth century this line was moving
. Increasingly, an uncontrollable sexual appetite was seen as a form of
effeminacy, and therefore uncomfortably similar to the spineless "luxury"
of Italy, the land of popery, sodomy -- and opera (moralists never tired of
pointing out the connections between these three!) George's shameless
flaunting of his infidelities seemed increasing to belong to a different age.
The public increaingly expected their devinely-ordained monarch to
behave with more Christian decency -- or at least discretion.
Moreover ,expectations about female behavior had changed considerably.
While the heroines of seventeenth-century comedy (including Congreve's)
were witty, worldly young ladies of fiercely independent spirit, groups such as the Society for the Reformation of Manners now energetically
promoted the virtues of temperance and, above all, chastity as the supreme
virtues. The Society reflected in the theater and novels. It reached its height with the
heroines of Richardson's novels Pamela(1740), who resists the attentions
of her employer until he marries her, and Clarissa(1748), who commits
suicide rather than live after her rape. In such a climate, 'Semele' was hardly.
"no oratorio but a bawdy opera".
再向前延展,这政治讽刺意味更高级:
Congreve's 'Semele' libretto was written around 1705 for an opera with music
by John Eccles(which apparently was never performed). During these years
,politicians and public alike were anxious about who would succeed the childless
Queen Anne. The 1689 revolution had removed the Catholic Stuarts, and
had implicitly asserted Parliament's right to depose monarchs who ruled
unconstitutionally.
The Act of Settlement(1701) had granted the succession to the Protestant House of Hanover on Anne's death. However many Britons,
particularly on the "religious right," held that since the monarchy was
devinely chosen, they remained bound by oath to the Stuart Kings. There was widespread anxiety that Anne's death would bring an attempted counter-revolution,
supported by France, to place the (Catholic) son of James II on the throne.
Congreve's portrayal of Jupiter, the King of the gods, is a clear reminder
of the libidinous, unconstituional rule of the Stuart Kings.
Moreover, Act I of 'Semele' is Congreve's own addition to the myth as
found in Ovid's Metamorphoses. It shows 'Semele's choice between marrying her lawfully
chosen (but perhaps rather boring) husband and elopement with a dashing
foreigner. This was a typical way of portraying Britain's choice between the
legitimate Hanoverian kings and the romantic but dangerous Stuarts. Semele's unfortunate fate leaves no doubt as to Congreve's view of
the subject.
再向前延伸到古希腊,倒更有深意:
"The women think he has exposed their Bitchery too much; and the Gentlemen,
are offended with him; for the discovery of their follyes" So wrote John Dryden,
in defense of "The Double Dealer" by his protege William congreve,
librettist of Semele and one of the imposing figures of the great age of English satire.
Drawing on ancient Greek and Roman examples, satires could be gently
playful, following Horace, or scathingly vicious, after Juvenal. They exposed
the foibles of society, and attacked the hypocrisy of misrule of leading public figures,
as in "The Beggars' Opera'. In all cases, the aim was to use laughter to
bring audiences to a greater understanding of themselves, their leading
citizens and the society they lived in.
But this was not simply a matter of social commentary; it was seen by many as
political duty. The British people were fiercely proud of the fact that they lived
in a limited monarchy with regular elections. There was almost no censorship
in Britain and writers saw the freedom to expose imcompetence and corruption as
a precious asset when they compared themselves to the heavily censored, absolutist monarchies
of Europe, in particular Louis XIV's France. Many writers drew parallels
with ancient Anthens, suggesting that the spirit of democracy lived in
Aristophanes' pillorying of corrupt demagogues and that the decline of satirical
poetry in both Greece and Rome prefigured those societies' descent into servile dictatorship.
A people who did not have the spirit to criticize their leaders openly were only one
short step away from slavery, and laughter was a wonderfully effective
weapon for keeping that spirit alive.
这是我最欣赏的“英国政治讽刺”,这网上令胡先生有一些传承。
&&&
昨晚的戏台设计更让我吃惊,Semele成了梦露的。。。
Jove ===>JFK
Juno ===>Jacqueline
Iris ===> FBI, or white house secretary
Cadmus ===> ?
Athamas ===>?
Ino , Somnus ===> ?
Exact costumes!
可惜我对这里面的政治脉络不清晰。另外,又拿民主党的总统说戏?
可见美国的戏剧也很无奈。
但享德尔的音乐依旧是第一流的享受的。
(当年美国杀阿富汗时大都会还是请来了伊朗的塔自耶。一敬!)
&&&
SEMELE
MYTHOLOGY
Semele was the daughter of Harmonia and Cadmus, the founder of Thebes.
She conceived a son during one of Jupiter's many romantic adventures.
Jupiter promised to grant her every wish. Juno, who was jealous, persuaded
Semele to ask the god to appear to her in his true splendor. Jupiter reluctantly
complied, whereupon Semele was immediately struck dead by the thunderbolts
that emanated from his devine countenance. Mercury gathered up the
unborn child, Bacchus, and sewed him into Jupiter's thigh until he was
ready to be born.
REPRESENTATIONS
Semele's death has captured artists' attention in particular. Ancient representations
shows Semele sleeping while Mercury carries off the young Bacchus.
Modern artists have treated this same subject as a sort of majestic Epiphany
in chich Jupiter thunders in the clouds while Semele lies on the ground.
The subject is also charged with powerful symbolism in a painting here:
Jupiter and Semele, Gustave Moreau, 1895
Paris, Musee Gustave Moreau
- posted on 09/24/2006
再引引《变形记》中关于SEMELE的片段,此剧便告一段落。
The Story of Semele
------ And gossip argued
All up and down the land, and every which way:
Some thought the goddess was too merciless
And others praised her; maidenhood, they claimed,
Deserved just such stern acts of reckoning,
And both sides found good reason for their judgment.
[page 65]
Juno alone said nothing, either blame
Or praise, but she was secretly rejoicing
In the disaster to Agenor's household.
All of Europa's relatives were guilty
Because Europa had been Juno's rival,
And now, it seemed, she had another grievance,
Another grudge, for Semele, she knew,
Was pregnant with the seed of Jove. She started
To limber up her tongue for good round cursing,
Then thought, "What good has cursing ever done me?
I must find the girl herself; I must destroy her,
If I am called, with reason, most mighty Juno,
If I am fit to bear the jeweled sceptre,
If I am queen of Heaven, and wife and sister,
Well, sister at least, of Jove. She is satisfied,
This Semele, with hole-and-corner business,
A short-lived outrage to my bed. But still
She has conceived, and that one thing was lacking.
Her belly proves her guilt. She wants to be
Something I have not been so far, a mother
Pregnant by Jove, arrogant in her beauty.
I'll manage that; I am no daughter of Saturn
Unless she finds her way to Hell's black marshes
Sent there by Jove himself."
She left her throne,
And under cover of the yellow cloud
Came to the house of Semele, put off
The cloud concealment, and put on the form
Of an old woman, whitened hair, and wrinkles,
The quavering voice, bent back, and tottering footsteps,
Looking like Beroe, Semele's nursemaid.
They did a lot of gossiping together
Till the talk came round to the name of Jove, and Juno
Sighed, in the way old women often do,
Saying: "It really may be Jove; I hope so,
But, you know, I'm afraid of all such business.
[page 66]
Many have gotten into decent bedrooms
Pretending to be gods. It is not enough
Even if he is Jove; you should make him prove it
If he really is. Let him be the kind of fellow,
Big as he is, when he takes Juno to him.
Let him have you, but first let him come in all his glory!"
So Juno molded Cadmus' innocent daughter,
And she asked Jove for a favor, and did not name it.
And he replied: "Ask and it shall be granted,
I swear by Styx, the god-compelling river."
And Semele, happy in her own ill-fortune,
Too powerful in winning a lover over
And doomed to die on that account, responded:
"Come to me as you come in love to Juno!"
Jove would have made her stop, but she had finished.
He groans in pity: she cannot take back
What she had wished, nor he what he had sworn.
So, very sorrowful, he climbs the Heaven,
Beckons the following mist and clouds and lightning
And winds and thunder and last of all the fire
No man escapes from. Still, he tries to temper
His armament, and leaves the bolts behind him
With which he hurled Typhoeus down from Heaven.
Those weapons are too savage. He has others
Made in the Cyclops' workshop, somewhat lighter,
Less full of rage and fire, second-string weapons
In the slang of the gods. And these he takes and enters
The house of Semele. Her mortal body
Could not endure that rush, and in that mating,
That gift, burned utterly. The child in the womb,
Only half-formed, was taken from her body,
Sewed up (if anybody can believe it)
In the thigh of Jove, to wait for birth, and Ino,
Semele's sister, watched him in his cradle,
And after that the nymphs of Nysa hid him
And brought his milk home to their caverns for him.
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