George Frideric Handel, Semele (1744)

Oratorios became popular in large part because the Catholic Church forbade the performance of operas during Lent. That's why most of them have religious themes (or at least are, you know, based on Bible stories, which may not be quite the same thing). And indeed, most of Handel's are likewise thus. But then there's this, from Ovid, which clearly bucks the trend. The story, according to wikipedia, is that Handel wanted to write another opera, but he also wanted it to be able to be performed as part of a popular series of Lenten concerts. So, he just decided no, actually, it's an oratorio. Really. Trust me. Good on you, GF. Fight the power! Though actually, although this certainly feels more opera-ish than Juditha Triumphans, the only other oratorio-performed-as-opera I've seen, it still in some ways feels like an oratorio, what with various choruses which have no clear diegetic origin.

Regardless, it's good stuff. First Handel I've seen with an English libretto (a pre-existing one by no less a figure than William Congreve), though certainly not the last, if I get into the oratorios. That should be "when," not "if," and it certainly definitively answers the question of whether librettos are inevitably going to sound strange in your own language. No. No, is how it answers that.

The story may be familiar: Cadmus' daughter Semele is engaged to be married (there's also a thing where her sister Ino is in love with her fiancé Athamas, but that's not a big part of anything), but she's carrying on with Jupiter instead, who takes her away to his secret love-nest. Juno is pissed off, so she plays on Semele's vanity and suggests that she make Jupiter promise her a boon and then ask to see him in all his glory. Jupiter doesn't want to as he know it'll prove fatal for her, but he has no choice. So she dies. But don't worry: she has a son, Bacchus ("more powerful than love," we are amusingly told), so everyone's happy about that. I feel like there ought to be some thematic connection between Semele and the god of wine, but if so it's pretty obscure.

You have to feel for ol' Semele: getting seduced and manipulated and dicked around by gods; she never stood a chance. Sure, she got too vain, but that's really Juno's fault. I know there's a school of thought that sees the Greek gods as basically explaining internal processes: Semele was naturally vain and got to full of herself, so it's explained that Juno "made" her vain. But the gods here certainly SEEM to be real people! Well, apparently there's a tradition where later her son rescued her from Hades and she became a god (sounds like fan-fiction to me, but hey), so there's that.

The plot here is a little baggy (though I suppose that's kind of the norm for baroque operas); their reluctance to do real tragedy means that Semele's death doesn't have the impact that it could've had. There's a kind of funny bit at the end where Ino says "yeah, Hermes came to me in a dream and told me what happened to Semele; ps. he also said that I should marry her fiancé." Convenient! So everyone's happy about that, and also about the prospect of getting shit-faced with Bacchus. Terrific music, however, including "Endless Pleasure, Endless Love," which was used (with modified lyrics) in The Enchanted Island; Jupiter's serenade "Where'er You Walk;" and of course the centerpiece, "Myself I Shall Adore," which Semele croons to her reflection in a magic mirror Juno has given her. This here production has Cecilia Bartoli in the title role; I feel like Bartoli is a name that you hear a lot, but this was the first time I actually saw her. She's good. Charles Workman is surprisingly sympathetic as Jupiter, and Birgit Remmert is stone-cold as Juno. Good all around, in a witty production that takes place somewhere in England and features large tabloid headlines regarding Jupiter's and Semele's doings ("Princess in Eagle Palace Snatch-Drama Crisis," reads one). Fun all 'round. Unless you're the sort who instinctively hates such things, in which case CHRIST you're tedious.