I have been drawn to the story of Dido for some years now. Not only is Henry Purcell’s music, with its inviting melodies and clear and affecting simplicity accessible to a broader audience, but this music is easily malleable. Clearly structured and driven from the basso continuo, Purcell’s score is able to be transformed and shifted without needing to restructure the opera entirely. I think of this as akin to keeping the bones of a house, but being free to add new spaces and features. Once combined, we feel the encounter between old and new more keenly.
Another significant aspect of this work, especially for contemporary audiences is the issue of colonisation. |
Aeneas, shipwrecked, arrives in Carthage and too quickly assumes the vacant role of King, before being driven by duty and ambition to leave and found Rome. How will we as a contemporary audience understand his behaviour? How will feminists consider Aeneas, who promises the world, before rather too easily taking his leave? How will we reconsider the ideas of encounter and invasion, with lyrics that promote royal rule? These are not small questions.
First performed in 1688, Dido and Aeneas is an allegory, with Aeneas representing James II, and Dido as the British people. The witches then symbolize the Catholic Church, who draw Aeneas away from his true love. Dramaturgically, the potential to play with allegory, and to really consider what the performance of this work in this context will mean, is an exciting area of exploration.
Of course, there is also the character of Dido. The Queen of Carthage, she is a figure filled with contradictions. A strong woman who is canny enough to carve out a space for her people and to avoid being forced into marriage with her violent neighbours, through this opera Dido loses herself in her love for Aeneas and ultimately abandons her people and responsibilities by killing herself. For modern audiences she is a difficult character to relate to. From the very beginning of the opera Dido’s music is a lament – foreshadowing her tragic demise. How then can we also understand her as someone filled with passion, desire and who we, as an audience, must eventually relate to, and mourn for? How might we create a more dimensional character? - Frances Moore, Director. |