Claudio Monteverdi is known as the father of opera - a commonplace tag, perhaps, but one which has taken root in the history of music theatre and brought into sharper focus the true historical circumstances. Opera, of course, existed before Monteverdi, but in a wholly different context. During the Italian Renaissance, for example, musical pastorals with their idealised Arcadian scenes filled the courts of feudal lords. Such exclusive circles were lavish to the point of wastefulness in their celebration of these operatic precursors; nevertheless they prepared the way thematically and musically for the development of a bourgeois opera culture in northern Italy. And at precisely this moment - early in the seventeenth century - the genius of Claudio Monteverdi arrived on the scene.
The Teatro San Cassiano in Venice opened its doors to the public in 1637 and in so doing became the world's first commercial opera house. It was a ‘Temple of the Muses’ for all those that could afford the price of a ticket and was thus independent of the patronage of generous princes. Early performances would have seemed rather carnival-like in atmosphere by today's standards; but it was not long before a new type of music theatre began to crystallise. Real characters populated the stage - a cast list drawn from gods and mortals, allegorical figures and burlesque freaks. The libretti were colourful, multi-layered and, in terms of musical style, required a handamerital change of approach. The fashion was no longer for the pure, ethereal sounds of the polyphonic Renaissance madrigal; it was now the turn of recitative. Reduction of musical forces to just a few accompanying instruments was not done merely for economic reasons. It was in line with the newly perceived necessity to place the text in the foreground. Music, it was said, served to illustrate and therefore followed the word in emphasis and metre. In declamatory passages only the vocal and bass lines were written out, leaving the chords to be filled out by the musician during the performance - a convention which continued until well into the Baroque period, and one which has presented certain problems for modern performance practice. A more opulent orchestration was reserved for the musical interludes and aria-like passages, the richer sounds supposedly adding the required gravitas.
"Il Ritorno d'Ulisse in Patria" was Monteverdi's first opera for the new opera house; it was performed there in 1640/41. In terms of its virtuoso perfection as a "Dramma in musica" it comes rather as a bolt out of the blue. Compared with Monteverdi's first opera, "L'Orfeo", composed 33 years earlier, this Homer adaptation is worlds apart. Whereas "L`Orfeo" - with its Renaissance-like pastoral madrigals - was still firmly rooted in the courtly tradition, the music of "Il Ritorno" is completely dominated by the recitative style known as "monody". Of course, Monteverdi's groundbreaking approach to opera did not come about in a moment of inspiration; rather it was the culmination of an evolutionary process. But it is difficult today to piece together this process. From his opera "Arianna" (Ariadne) only the famous "Lamento" remains extant, and a further six works have been lost without trace. The route he took to arrive at this monodistic style of writing thus remains rather obscure. Viewed from this perspective, Monteverdi’s late works such as "ll Ritorno" (not rediscovered until 1878) and "L'Incoronazione di Poppea" stand out as being all the more uniquely innovative as a result of the incompleteness of the  evolutionary process.

For 240 years nothing was known of Monteverdi's Odysseus opera, a work based closely on books 15 to 23 of Horner’s epic poem. But it did not take long after the opera's rediscovery for it to be hailed as a key work marking the threshold between the Renaissance and Baroque periods. Attempts to fathom the score, however, presented all sorts of difficulties. The musical notation gave only the two outer parts (voice and bass), a practice which misled musicologists of the day into thinking the score to be rudimentary and incomplete in nature. Not until the more exhaustive source studies of the twentieth century did the true circumstances come to light. Monteverdi’s performances relied on the skills of musicians who were able to fill out the chords from a figured bass as the dramatic action required. Moreover, this concise form of notation presumably also meant the composer was able to prevent “pirate copies” of his work from being made, since only he and his circle of musicians would have known the detail of the performance.
This, too, is precisely where the problems start for a modern performance. we have Nikolaus Harnoncourt to thank for the fact that a musicologically sound - if ultimately ‘unofficial’ - catalogue of conventions for Monteverdi performance practice has survived until the present day. The conductor developed his theories about authentic instrumentation from a wide range of sources.

"We used the same instruments that would have been in use in Italy at the time - stringed instruments belonging to the violin family, four recorders to add grace and brilliance to certain scenes, two piffari (soprano shawms) and a dulcian for pastoral and comic passages. And we introduced trumpets and trombones - a regular contemporary practice common whenever the gods made an entry - to accompany Neptune and at moments of solemnity. These melodic instruments - also used at times as solo instruments - were supported by a plethora of continuo instruments, including a large Italian harpsichord, a small virginal, two lutes, a chitarrone, organ, harp and regal..." (N. Harnoncourt)

The spectacular success enjoyed by this opera 25 years ago at the Zurich Opera was due in no small measure to the breadth of tonal colour achieved by this amazing ensemble of instruments. Jean-Pierre Ponnelle’s ingenious staging was accompanied from the orchestra pit by raspings, Whistlings and strummings, the like of which no opera-going public had heard before. The exuberance of his scene setting, the strangely florid music and a first class cast of singers turned "Il Ritorno" and the other productions of Harnoncourt's legendary Monteverdi cycle into triumphs and milestones of historic performance practice. These productions subsequently went on tour to all the major international opera houses, were recorded on film and are still considered today to be Ponnelle’s most outstanding achievements.
The musical world had woken up to Monteverdi’s early Baroque masterpieces. But precisely because of the diverse possibilities of interpretation, these operas were always going to lend themselves to any number of new adaptations and realisations. Hans Werner Henze`s "Il Ritorno", for example, performed on the great opera stage of the 1985 Salzburg Festival (produced by Michael Hampe). Or René Jacob`s opulent orchestration of “Orfeo” - a festival celebrating the purity of sound. And Harnoncourts anniversary production of “Ulysses” in Zurich, which is anything but a revival. Together with producer Klaus Michael Grüber, Harnoncourt strikes a new balance between musical polish and distillation of the essence of dramatic action. "It is a kind of ‘théâtre pauvre’, which works with a few carefully chosen and powerful symbols”, was how the newspaper Neue Zürcher Zeitung reviewed the production. The main action takes place on little more than an angled revolving stage in front of a whitewashed wall which hints at the landscape of a Greek island. Irus, the comical glutton, is cast as a theatre director and has Penelope's ghastly suitors line up alongside one another as marionettes in a puppet show - a producers whim which gave rise at the time to all kinds of speculation as to the current fate of music theatre.
Harnoncourt's musical drive has become "a touch gentler", wrote the Berlin daily Tagesspiegel. “Not that Harnoncourt is now leaving things to chance or to the discretion of his exquisite musicians. But the way he communicates - his entire rostrum manner - seems to have become more relaxed, calmer, rounder, and both he and the listener are amply rewarded by the sound which results.”

In the prologue to the opera, the Libretrist Giacomo Badoaro establishes the fact that humankind is but a helpless plaything in the hands of the superior forces of Time, Fortune and Love. But it is soon apparent that man shares his lot with the gods, for they, too, are forced to face life's vicissitudes - the only difference being that the gods are immortal.
Whilst Penelope sings a moving lament for the absence ofhei' husband Odysseus, it is clear their two fates have long since become a bone of contention among the gods. Neptune reproaches Jupiter for having Shown his sworn enemy Odysseus the way back to Ithaca. When Odysseus lands there, Minerva disguises him as an old beggar in order to protect him from his pcrsecutors. Meanwhile, Penelope is forced to fend off the advances of three suitors, each of whom are brazenly out to win her hand. To make matters worse, she is forced to endure the impudence of the glutton Irus, whose aim is to turn this desperate situation to his advantage.
In Act Two, Odysseus' son Telemachus receives news of the return of his father. His mother's suitors become more importunate and plot to murder Telemachus. In desperation, Penelope finally promises to choose as her husband whichever man successfully strings Odysseus' bow. The only one capableof this feat, however, is the old beggar, who then swiftly and unhesitatingly slays the shameless suitors.
Act Three begins with the suicide of Irus, who was certain he would starve without the support of the three suitors. Penelope refuses to believe the true identity of the old beggar. Once again the gods intervene - Minerva asks Juno for help, who together with Jupiter is able to soothe Neptune's hatred and in so doing prepare the way for the “lieto fine”, the happy ending. Penelope, however, is still unable to overcome her grief. Only when the old beggar is able to describe the finely woven blanket that once covered their marriage bed does she finally recognise him for who he is.