In "Clemenza", the fire burns within

Yes, absolutely. In 1791, the year of his death, Mozart had achieved an extraordinary synthesis. If we look at the three great works that were composed almost simultaneously - The Magic Flute, La clemenza di Tito and the Requiem - we recognize a language that is reduced to its essence. Mozart's late work is characterized by transparency and concentration, the composition becomes leaner but emotionally deeper. There is also a heightened spiritual dimension, a meditation on forgiveness, mortality and transcendence. Even across very different genres, one also senses a remarkable freedom: Mozart completely masters the conventions, only to overcome them in an ingenious way.

Above all, this special balance between ceremonial grandeur and almost chamber music-like intimacy. The obbligato clarinet in Sesto's "Parto, parto" and the basset horn in Vitellia's "Non più di fiori" create a unique psychological sound world. There is also a noble restraint throughout the score, and the emotional intensity is often internalized. Yes, this combination of imperial dignity and deep vulnerability is something very specific to Clemenza.

In Idomeneo, we encounter youthful fire and expansive theatrical energy. The French influence is also very clear: large choruses, ballet sequences, monumental dramaturgy. In Clemenza, the fire is still there, but it is directed inwards. It is less about external catastrophes and more about moral dilemmas. Both works are characterized by nobility and extraordinary vocal parts, but the Clemenza is more philosophical, more concentrated.

AlthoughClemenza is rooted in the tradition of Metastasian opera seria, Mozart transforms this tradition from within. The psychological density, for example, is atypical. The ensembles in particular are dramatically charged in a way that goes beyond the usual. And as far as the arias are concerned, which served as showpieces in many seria operas of the time, it is interesting to see how Mozart does not break with tradition but elevates it. He uses the conventions of opera seria (solemn tone, formal structures) as a framework, but introduces modern dramatic tension within this framework. The traditional form thus becomes a space for inner conflict and not just a rhetorical display.

I don't agree with this assessment. The ensembles are indeed magnificent, but the arias are by no means conventional when performed with their emotional complexity in mind. And as far as the recitatives completed by Franz Xaver Süßmayr are concerned, the context of urgency must be taken into account. Nevertheless, the overall architecture conceived by Mozart remains profoundly coherent. The unity of the work lies in its moral and musical development.

He does that, quite clearly. Sesto, for example, clearly moves harmonically into darker realms before finally finding redemption; Vitellia's music evolves from brilliance and control to fragmentation and vulnerability. Mozart traces these psychological transformations through the tonality, orchestration and density of the texture.

Mozart does not judge, he understands. Vitellia embodies ambition, jealousy, insecurity, but also fragility. In her aforementioned rondo "Non più di fiori", however, the mask finally falls: Mozart shows us her true humanity, her innermost being, through his music. He does not absolve her, but he makes her deeply human. This complexity is what makes this character so fascinating.

The orchestra is classical in size, but the wind instruments (especially the clarinets) play a decisive role. The solo clarinet in "Parto, parto" is not just an ornament. It functions almost like Sesto's inner voice, a psychological partner - which goes far beyond the Baroque concerto tradition. Mozart integrates the concertante element into the drama itself. Yes, he experiments, but always in the service of the character and the dramaturgy.

The idea of Mozart as a coded political dissident seems too simplistic to me. Clemenza may have been written for a coronation, but the theme of grace as the highest virtue carries ethical weight. It is therefore not empty propaganda, but a reflection on power and humanity that is still relevant.

From the very beginning, the overture emphasizes the solemn character of the opera, the brilliance of C major. In any case, it cannot be replaced, for example, by the overture to Idomeneo or a symphonic movement by Mozart. Its rhythmic profile and clarity prepare the moral atmosphere of the opera; the key and gestures immediately transport us into a world of authority and grandeur.

The irony here is more subtle than in the Da Ponte operas. It is not social irony, but moral ambiguity. There is always a tension between public authority and private emotions. Even in moments of triumph, Mozart leaves room for fragility.

Mozart's choice of key is never purely pragmatic. Of course, instrumental possibilities, such as those of the clarinet, influence certain keys, but keys also have a fundamental expressive meaning. Thus Così fan tutte and Die Entführung as well as Clemenza begin and end in C major. And this is no coincidence: C major is associated with clarity, authority and balance. In the context of a coronation opera, it also conveys royal affirmation. Beyond the symbolism, however, it creates a sense of structural return, of the restoration of moral and musical order. Mozart's relationship to the minor keys is interesting, as he deliberately uses them sparingly in order to heighten their effect. In the Clemenza, minor keys appear in moments of crisis or moral unrest and thus reinforce the respective emotional effect. The reason why Mozart rarely uses minor keys is not because he avoids darkness, but because he integrates shadow into light. The drama ultimately arises from the contrast. When a minor key appears, it feels correspondingly unavoidable and expressive.

I think that what you say is a leap: historically informed performance goes far beyond the use of period instruments. Of course, we learn a lot about the performance techniques and aesthetics of the respective era through the use of these instruments. And that is very valuable. But ultimately, a conductor or performer must always return to the source, the score, and avoid being influenced by post-Mozart influences, as in the case of Mozart. He must approach the score as if the ink were still fresh. And so we try to bring the works to life in the best possible way - in order to achieve exactly the effect they originally had on the listener.

Difficult to answer! There is of course a degree of experience, in my case more than thirty years, and there is a certain amount of self-confidence from this experience. But at the same time, as you rightly suggest, the questions, doubts and possibilities are constantly increasing. When I was younger, I thought that after a few years I would know the entire repertoire well and know how to deal with it. But the opposite happened. The further you delve into the material, the more complex it seems - but at the same time the more fascinating it becomes. And that drives me as a performer to study the scores again and again and to discover new levels, depths and possibilities.

I am wary of such ideas! The composer is always present, but there are still interpretative decisions to be made at some point in order to bring the music to life - and you have to follow your own instincts and cultural knowledge. If I thought too much about the scrutinizing gaze of a composer, I wouldn't be able to move as a musician.