It had been five years since I had last composed an opera, and I worried that my dramatic instincts were beginning to fade, gathering dust that even the holiest water might struggle to remove. So, when the Elector of Bavaria approached me with a commission to write a new opera for the Munich carnival, I could hardly contain my excitement. At last, I would have the chance to create Idomeneo[i]!
The recitatives[ii] were already complete, and I was eager to begin work on the arias. Still, I knew better than to proceed too quickly. One cannot compose arias without knowing the singers. It is like tailoring suits for invisible people; it simply cannot be done well. I needed to meet the cast first and understand their individual strengths before committing anything further to paper. I was also determined to keep the work private until it was finished. I had no desire for unfinished ideas to be overheard, borrowed, or – heaven forbid – copied before the ink had even dried.
Idomeneo tells the story of a king who, shipwrecked and desperate, bargains with the gods in hopes of saving his life. The opera is filled with grandeur, tempestuous seas, desperate prayers, and music that rises and falls like the sea itself. In many ways, I found the storyline to mirror my own situation: a man caught between duty and freedom, between obedience and a calling that refused to be quiet.
Throughout the process, the music became my lifeline and kept me afloat. It sustained me as I navigated my own compromises – not with deities, but with comfort, security, and the promise of steady income, all of which crashing down on me like a wave of my own aspirations. The relentless sea that threatened to swallow Idomeneo mirrored my own journey, an unsteady tide between who I was expected to be and who I wished to become.
When the opera premiered, the audience was captivated, and the critics, for once, behaved themselves. Most remarkably, Father was rendered speechless, a reaction I took as the highest form of praise. It left me wondering whether this might be the beginning of something greater still.
[i] Idomeneo, re di Creta ossia Ilia e Idamante (Italian for Idomeneus, King of Crete, or, Ilia and Idamante; usually referred to simply as Idomeneo, K. 366) is an Italianlanguage opera seria. It premiered on 29 January 1781 at the Cuvilliés Theatre in Munich, Germany.
[ii] A recitative is a vocal style in music that imitates the rhythms and infections of spoken dialogue. It’s often used in operas to move the plot forward.