Le Balcon

"Depth must be concealed.
And where? On the surface."

Hugo von Hofmannsthal

‘Look for the woman’: this is the classic advice given to those who vainly seek to solve a mystery – whether it be a detective story or a work of art. And no one would dispute that Ariadne auf Naxos, in both its form and conception, is an enigmatic work – one need only consult the pages and pages of interpretations – or even over-interpretations – to which the work has given rise. Amusingly, the audience at the premiere hated Ariadne for the very reasons that would later make it a success – the ‘ill-conceived hybrid’, the unexpected mix of styles, the anachronisms that shocked audiences in 1912 would later be considered a pinnacle of baroque coherence, carried by the expression of flamboyant freedom.

Yes, but where is the woman in all this, you may ask? This will come as no surprise to those familiar with the joint work of Strauss and Hofmannsthal (where no one is upset that women sing male roles): in the genesis of Ariadne, women do exist, except that they are a third man – and one cannot understand the birth of this opera without taking into account the role played by the director Max Reinhardt. A leading figure in pre-war Viennese theatre, an unrivalled director of actors and future founder of the Salzburg Festival, Reinhardt had replaced Georg Toller in a rather providential manner to supervise the staging of Der Rosenkavalier, contributing greatly to the success of the work. As a token of their gratitude, Strauss and Hofmannsthal decided to compose a work that would allow him to fully demonstrate the breadth of his talents as a theatre and opera director. The plan was as follows: to add to Molière's Le Bourgeois gentilhomme ‘a little half-hour opera’ recounting the loneliness of Ariadne, abandoned on an island by the forgetful Theseus, and leading her to find a voluptuous finale in the arms of Bacchus... It would also be an opportunity for each to follow his inclinations: Strauss was delighted at the idea of composing stage music for the first part in the style of Lully's interludes, while Hofmannsthal would be able to give free rein to his work on Greek myths. Better still, we have an answer for the sourpusses who would cry scandal at seeing opera buffa and opera seria combined in this way: only a pedant like Monsieur Jourdain could have such an idea. In short, the whole affair seems joyful and simple...

We know of the failure that followed, during the first performance in 1912. The length of the work was particularly criticised – three hours, stretched to torture by an interminable intermission, due to an important character that the libretto had not planned for... or almost: the Duke of Württemberg, who receives guests with great pomp and takes his time in his box, ultimately behaves in the classic manner of the bourgeoisie, more concerned with social niceties than poetry and music...

Faced with this less than enthusiastic reception, the authors set to work on a second version, which was finally released in 1916. Lessons were learned from this failure, of course, but Strauss and Hofmannsthal also decided to rework the work for practical reasons: the production as conceived required a double cast of actors and singers, with the associated financial burdens. Molière's play was therefore cut and replaced by a prologue sung entirely. Theatre within theatre, servitude and smuggled confidences: it is amusing to find echoes of the shipwreck of the first version in the second (both continuing to lead straight to a desert island). The action is moved from Paris to Vienna, where ‘the richest man in the city’ (we don't know if he is a duke) gives a party where the fantasies of a commedia dell'arte troupe and the opera seria Ariane, commissioned for the occasion, must coexist. It doesn't matter that one must follow the other at the risk of spoiling its effect, the main thing being that the whole thing doesn't exceed two hours... Because at nine o'clock, the fireworks must be set off... Yes, and unfortunately that hasn't changed: in terms of popularity and precedence, art will always carry little weight compared to pyrotechnics.

Lola Gruber