The Tudor dynasty exerted a profound influence on European culture, garnering particular popularity in the 18th and 19th centuries, in historical novels and stage works. Among these were a trio of operas by Gaetano Donizetti, written in the 1830s, centred on the Tudor family’s trials and tribulations. But while Anna Bolena, Maria Stuarda and Roberto Devereux are each rooted in literary sources, their relationship with historical facts can be tenuous at best.
Anna Bolena stands out as a relatively faithful portrayal of the final days of Henry VIII’s second wife, albeit with embellishments for dramatic effect, notably the presence of her former love interest, Percy. The plot of Maria Stuarda is rather more fanciful, recounting the tumultuous story of Mary, Queen of Scots, the second cousin of Queen Elizabeth I, who faced a death sentence for treason.
Historical accounts portray Mary as a figure embroiled in intrigue, notably implicated in her husband’s murder, and scheming to replace Elizabeth on England’s throne. In contrast, the opera depicts her as a pious and almost saintly character. The librettist Giuseppe Bardari also concocts a theatrical confrontation between the two Queens that never occurred in reality. Maria unleashes a torrent of accusations at Elisabetta, branding her a “shameless daughter of a harlot” and an “obscene, unworthy whore,” while denouncing the English throne as “desecrated” by her rule.
Likewise, Roberto Devereux has relatively loose connections to historical events. While Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, was Elizabeth’s lover, the opera weaves a tale of him falling in love with Sara, Duchess of Nottingham – a fictional character, possibly inspired by the Duke of Nottingham’s second wife – and abandoning the Queen for her.
The three operas were not originally conceived as interconnected; rather, their creation stemmed from the prevailing popularity of Tudor history in the 19th century. The Grand Théâtre de Genève has decided to unite them into a trilogy, presenting all three from 18th–30th June this year. This ambitious undertaking has utilised a consistent creative team led by director Mariame Clément, alongside the same principal singers: soprano Elsa Dreisig, mezzo Stéphanie D’Oustrac, and tenor Edgardo Rocha.
I ask Clément what unifies these three operas into a trilogy, what common thread binds them together. “Elizabeth!” she says, emphatically. Elisabetta’s presence permeates all three works. Clément shows her at various stages of her life: as a child, in middle age, and as an older woman in Devereux – ages not typical of female protagonists in opera. Not formally a part of the opera’s cast, Clément introduces the child Elisabetta in Anna Bolena as a non-speaking character, turning Giovanna (Jane Seymour) into her nanny – unifying all of the operas into a single arc.
Does Clément have any concerns about introducing historical inaccuracies? She responds that while many details in the libretti already deviate from historical events, it would be a waste of energy to try to present correct historical details at all times. Clément instead chooses to serve the libretti, “rather than pointing out where they are wrong.” Donizetti and his librettists treated history ruthlessly, manipulating events to enhance dramatic impact. Clément opts to embrace this approach, being equally bold in directorial choices, viewing her staging as a form of theatrical “magical realism.”
Clément’s journey as a director has been propelled primarily by a love for opera and music, rather than a path from theatre or film directing. She has a clear sensitivity for the aesthetics of bel canto too. “It might initially seem off-putting, but only if you think about it in realistic terms,” Clément says. “Our perception of psychology is often modelled on Hollywood films, where psychological realism is self-evident. The abstraction of bel canto operas holds its own form of realism.” The elasticity of time is a prime example. “In crucial, traumatic moments, time freezes: we feel reality progressing in slow motion, and each person involved has a thousand thoughts going through their heads. That’s a concertato.”
How about the depiction of power in these operas? “Often I am asked about the relationship between women and power,” Clément says. “The subject is too vast and too important to be treated in a non-trilogy of bel canto operas based on historical fantasies. Nevertheless, some themes are interesting: the challenge of being taken seriously in a world of men, the exploration of alternative expressions of power, in a world where men dictate these norms.”
Clément highlights Elisabetta’s struggle in Maria Stuarda: to assert her authority without emulating her father, King Henry VIII. Yet the dominance of the crown established by Henry remains firmly entrenched – for Elisabetta, almost inescapable. In a pivotal scene, Elisabetta is advised to execute Maria: in Clément’s production, instead of her minister Cecil, it is Henry VIII who issues the directive. Through this creative choice Clément aims to evoke thematic echoes underscoring Elisabetta’s internal conflict, and the constraints imposed by patriarchal power.
This topic closely relates with that of “mad scenes”, where a female character’s descent into madness is often portrayed as a means to undermine her political authority, depicting her as being controlled by her emotions. Clément discusses her deliberate omission of a mad scene near the conclusion of Bolena. In her interpretation, Anna’s “madness”, during her dream of her wedding, is not a manifestation of her own unravelling psyche but rather “a poignant performance orchestrated to shield her daughter from the grim reality of her mother’s impending execution.” This nuanced portrayal underscores Anna’s desperate attempt to shield her child from the harrowing circumstances surrounding her fate.
What of the male characters in these operas? “The tenor characters are pretty much unsalvageable,” Clément jokes. “In all three operas they make blunder after blunder, ultimately contributing to the downfall of the very women they love. Edgardo Rocha and I laughed about this a lot in rehearsals!” This is one of the perennial challenges a director faces when approaching a bel canto opera: how to make such characters believable? In Bolena, Clément presents Percy as disconnected from courtly norms due to his prolonged absence, providing a rationale for his shortcomings. Meanwhile, in Stuarda, Leicester’s sense of emasculation by Elisabetta leads him to overinflate his own heroism, ultimately falling prey to the manipulations of Maria’s faction.
Devereux presents a particularly notable series of blunders from a male protagonist: the titular character politically defies the ruling monarch, Elisabetta, and moreover betrays her by engaging in an affair with the wife of his closest friend, Nottingham, the only person trying to save him from execution for treason. Quite a feat.
“One aspect that intrigued me in these three operas was the management of public image,” Clément says. “I aimed to illustrate the challenge faced by people in positions of power to maintain a semblance of private life amidst the constant scrutiny, which often becomes a relentless battle for public perception.”
In Stuarda, for instance, Maria effectively manoeuvres the public narrative, openly insulting Elisabetta without immediate consequence, and then, once sentenced to death, turns her execution into a well-orchestrated public event with the support of her followers. Clément’s staging of the execution surrounded by cameras underscores the event’s political spectacle.
Clément talks about how she aims to explore Elisabetta’s arc further in Devereux. As a seasoned monarch, she has adroitly manipulated her public image to her advantage, learning from past mistakes, especially the traumatic episode with Maria – but as she nears the end of her life the weight of that public image has become all too heavy to bear.
I ask Clément if a director suffers stage fright too. “I do,” she tells me, adding that the apprehension preceding the first day of rehearsals far outweighs the nerves of the first performance. The night before rehearsals is fraught with questions about the efficacy of her approach, whether her ideas will be well-received and if her vision will resonate with the team.
While the butterflies of first night manifest as a physical reaction, the pre-rehearsal anguish is more existential in nature. Yet for Clément the opportunity to collaborate with the same singers over several productions has been greatly rewarding. “I had the fortune of working with the same singers for all operas; this continuity really helped us building a shared language and stage presence.” With the cast embarking on this operatic journey as a cohesive, collaborative unit, these three stories have been brought together to form a whole never quite envisaged by Donizetti.
Donizetti’s Tudors Trilogy runs at Grand Théâtre de Genève from 18th–30th June.
Anna Bolena: 18th & 26th June, Maria Stuarda: 20th & 28th June, Roberto Devereux: 23rd & 30th June.
This article was sponsored by Grand Théâtre de Genève.
