Most people believe that artists create works of art out of a pure inner urge. Personally, I cannot help thinking that great art is often the result of apparent coincidences that become unpredictably interlrnked and end up forcing the artist into activity.
The libretto to Haydn’s Orlando Paladino was not actually written for Haydn at all, but for an opera by Pietro Allessandro Guglielmi. Nor was Haydn supposed to compose an opera of his own in 1782: in his capacity as Kapellmeister at Schloss Esterháza, his job was to put on a performance of Guglielmi's opera. Routine work, in other words. But suddenly, there was news of illustrious visitors: the Grand Prince Pavel Petrovitch, later to become the Tsar of Russia and his wife Maria Fyodorovna, a Württemberg princess, wanted to drop in on the Esterházys. There could be no question of presenting a piece ten years old to these two connoisseurs of music - too risky by far! Thus, as an exception, Haydn was commissioned to compose a new opera, using Guglielmi's libretto. The author of the libretto was Carlo Francesco Badini, but Guglielmi had had the text revised twice by one Nunziato Porta. And the same Nunziato Porta had recently been appointed director of the theatre at Schloss Esterháza, and was now responsible tor choosing the repertoire... But as it turned out, the Grand Prince and his wife changed their itinerary and did not stop at Esterháza after all on their journey to Stuttgart (where, incidentally, Friedrich Schiller was waiting to take advantage of the turmoil surrounding the royal visit for his famous escape to Mannheim). Anyway, Haydn still wrote the opera, which was given its first performance on the name day of Prince Nikolaus, 6th December 1782, in the theatre at Esterháza.
The "comic-heroic drama" Orlando Paladino is Joseph Haydn's funniest opera. I cannot help wondering why.
A knight loves a princess, but she loves another. Unrequited love drives the knight to insanity, and he plans to kill the princess and his rival. At the last minute, a good fairy rescues the innocent lovers from the wicked knight.
What is supposed to be so funny about that? It sounds like a pretty serious story to me! Perhaps a closer look at the main characters will yield some clarity. And then there are a couple of other characters as well.
The princess’s name is Angelica, and she hails from the distant realm of Cathay in northern China. She is charming and beautiful. In fact her beauty is legendary, so much so that she has more or less every medieval man at her feet. The knight, by the name of Orlando, is a Frank, a nephew of Charlemagne. Now the crazy and evil Orlando sets out in pursuit of Angelica just because she loves another man! Poor child, innocent as she is! Orlando's rival for Angelica’s affections is the handsome Saracen warrior Medoro. Naturally enough, Angelica is henceforth scared out of her wits for herself and her beloved, What a stroke of luck, then, that she is on good terms with the good fairy, whose name is Alcina. The benefactress of mankind rescues the princess together with her Medoro by using a kind of brainwashing technique to cure the wicked Orlando of his amour fou. To make sure things don’t get too simple, a kind of medieval Terminator charges aimlessly across the scene at regular intervals: a brainless heathen Saracen by the name of Rodomonte, who is intent on butchering anything that looks like a Christian or a Frank. Rodomonte has an anger management problem-he is in a permanent blind rage. And to stop the story getting too serious, a pair of lower-class lovers twitters and prattles away in the midst of the action - the shepherdess Eurilla and Orlando’s squire Pasquale. However, the last three characters don't really influence the proceedings to speak of. And even less so the shepherd Licone (Eurilla’s father) and Charon, the ferryman of the Underworld, who ends up helping to brainwash Orlando. These are only extras.
The plot is neither serious nor funny, and that applies to the text, too. But Haydn composes both serious and funny music, and preferably contrary to our expectations - but not always. He leads us down many a garden path, and it is sometimes hard to know whats really going on. How does Haydn do this? How, and why? He was undeniably a brilliant composer with a finely-tuned sense of humour and an unerring psychological instinct. But there is something else we need to bear in mind: he knew something that we don't know and the 1782 audience shared this knowledge.
Orlando Paladino is based on an episode from an international bestseller that was as well known as Grimm's fairy tales until well into the 19th century: Orlando Furioso, a comic masterpiece from the pen of the Renaissance poet Ludovico Ariosto, originally published in 1516. The epic poem in 46 cantos is the mother of all fantasy stories, a bargain basement where hosts of librettists helped themselves to what they needed; to this day, Ariosto’s work still serves as a (secret) source of inspiration for poets, writers and film-makers. One of the things that makes Orlando Furioso so special is that its author writes from a radically subjective point of view, completely ignoring the unity of time and space, and regularly interfering with the action with highly personal comments. The historic background is simple: the story is set during the reign of the Emperor Charlemagne, when the latter's Christian knights (paladins) were at war with the heathen Saracens and Moors in Spain. But Ariosto packs an awful lot into this simple setting! On no fewer than 1,700 pages, he offers the reader a true fireworks display of imagination, black humour, sly wisdom and life in all its color. Masculine heroes engage in combat over a mere trifle - as a matter of principle, and because they need to defend their toys (horse, weapon or wife). Driven by love, they chase after women, though at the end of the day they are mainly interested in fame and honour, while very feminine women hght like men, although at the end of the day it is love they are after. Both sexes make use ofthe latest technology - taking means of transport with built-in navigation systems, light sabres, time machines and aircraft that fly from Paris to China and back, or even to the moon, at the speed of light! If necessary, creatures are beamed down from distant galaxies, such as the Archangel Michael or St. John the Evangelist. Love scenes that do not leave too much to the imagination alternate with brutal battle scenes where skulls are cleft and severed limbs fly through the air like so many cabbage stalks. But the fighting is also constantly interrupted or postponed; e.g., when a naked virgin with a body as white as alabaster, chained to a rock, needs rescuing from a sea monster. For one thing is clear: determined as our valiant heroes may be, the most obvious thing has to be done first. Life has to be lived as it is, and this life is a highly realistic mixture of free will and extraterrestrial powers, both celestial and of the underworld.
I could go on at length. I could tell you the story of the impotent monk, or of the noblewoman who falls in love with a man who turns out to be a woman... But it is time to turn our attention back to Haydn's opera, or to be more precise to his characters' past, which makes a significant contribution to the story’s tension, to both its serious and its comic moments.
Angelica has good reason for her anxiety: so far, she has done nothing but use men! One after the other she goads them to fight for her, making vague promise of her precious virginity as a reward. All she needs are bodyguards, and when she doesn't need them any more, she coolly drops them. It goes without saying that she retains her virginity! Poor Orlando gets a particularly rough deal. For months on end, he risks his life to do battle with her enemies, day and night. He even breaks his paladin’s oath ofallegiance to Uncle Charlemagne on her account! It is his rotten luck that he is the only one who sincerely loves Angelica - that is why he is the only one to lose his marbles. And when he finally sees her forthe snake-in-the-grass that she is, he tears his clothes, throws down his weapons, chases his horse away and spends three months charging through the country in blind fury. Is he the culprit or the victim here? Cupid, for his part, decides on revenge and fires one dart after another at Angelica as she bends over a seriously injured Saracen youth by the name of Medoro, who has blond curls and smouldering eyes just like hers. Soft-tempered, but by no means a coward, he has just risked his own life to bury his master’s corpse. Angelica selflessly nurses him back to health, and falls in love herself for the first time - perhaps because she is giving for the first time, instead of just taking; that is what makes Medoro so special. Alcina is not a jot better than Angelica. Good fairy? You must be joking! For a start, she has just brutally robbed her own sister of her half of the island paradise that belongs to them both. And her favourite activity is to get men high on various drugs, have her way with them, and then - once she grows tired of them - to transform them
into a tree, a plant or a stone! As for Rodomonte, he really is a wild and fierce warrior. But his beloved, too, has given her self to another man as soon as his back is turned: his anger, too, stems from the fact that he has been hurt.
I heard it straight away! However much the librettist alters the characters, their original personality remains. Here, Haydn's music itself provides a good example.
The composer deliberately exaggerates all the characters except for Orlando. His music gets to the bottom of the characters, exposing their true nature; Haydn jumps from the serious to comedy and vice versa, making the characters into real people. Angelica suffers and loves too much - her bad conscience comes to the surface. Medoro is so fond of suffering, and does so much of it, that there is little space left for real love. Eurilla and Pasquale are carefree souls, and they are more in love with their idea of love and the trappings of love than they are with one another. Rodomonte is full of rage, but he cannot hide the fact that he is a good-natured fellow really. Alcina makes too much of a song and dance about everything: she is too good to be true. Only when Oriando appears are all our doubts swept away: these are genuine feelings - real grief, real love, real madness. What tragic irony that the genuine madman is the only one who is genuine!
For all those who would have preferred a happy ending, I can offer one small consolation: in the Ariosto version, Orlando is not just treated with mind-altering drugs, he is really cured. Haw does this come about? His cousin brings him back his mind, which he had lost over Angelica - from the moon, where according to Ariosto, everything is stored that get lost on the Earth at some time. There is only one thing that Ariosto says there is no point looking for on the moon: stupidity. That seerns to still be down here on Earth...