A tale of obliteration For Christof Loy, Haydn’s Armida is a surprisingly radical tale of self-destruction in the battle of the sexes. Dramaturg Monika Mertl spoke with the stage director about his production for the Salzburg Festival. Monika Mertl: Mr Loy, you are often viewed as a Mozart man; this is the first time that you are working on a Haydn piece. What differences do you perceive? Christof Loy: First of all, I think that Armida should be considered a special case within Haydn’s opus. I had initial difficulties with its being an extremely static work that allows for hardly any plot dynamics but is largely characterized by stasis. Yet I found this to be an exceptionally modern quality eventually. Basically, we see the same situation repeated over and over again – a parting that is acted out in different variants. Mertl: According to you, the situation between Armida and Rinaldo is already clear at the very beginning of the play. The previous history is merely implied. We do not witness how Armida is sent to the crusaders by the Saracens to destroy Rinaldo, how the two the fall in love. We enter the situation after the great passion has come and gone. Loy: Haydn’s contemporaries would have been familiar with the story. Yet I find it interesting that it is more or less omitted in the libretto – the emergence of this relationship was never meant to be the topic of the opera. From the very beginning, this is a story about the impossibility of sustaining love. Even in Rinaldo’s first aria, it becomes apparent that he is invoking a love that has long been shattered. Mertl: A typical pattern of failed relationships – you desperately try to cling on. In the first aria, Rinaldo decides to go to battle against his own army for the sake of Armida. Loy: It is so incredibly fitting, so typical that he tries to claim something that is not really the case. And in the complementary aria, Armida figures as a woman who is alone and exudes much more fragility. The state of mind of the two characters is very different. It is Armida who has engineered the whole situation through some very manipulative acts so that the knight might fall in love with her. Mertl: The manipulation continues in the course of the opera – we see a lot of love oaths and tantrums. Loy: Well, she tries to continue, but she has become very weak by that point. That’s what is so surprising. The myth of Armida suggests a very strong woman. Yet her portrayal in this opera is so incredibly fine and delicate, and very humane – it is nothing like the usual medean sorceress. Mertl: We see her as a very vulnerable woman. Loy: Which is due to the fact that Armida is much more aware of the fact that the rupture with Rinaldo is inevitable. Someone who knows that a rupture is necessary has de facto already carried it out. Mertl: And this knowledge makes her weaker? Loy: Weaker, yes. With couples, it is often the case that one of the partners is more active in creating and maintaining the relationship than the other. Seduced Rinaldo is more or less submissive, out of his senses – he has been seduced and is no longer in control. It is clear that this kind of relationship is somewhat tainted. Armida is aware of this, and apparently she does feel a little guilty about it all: that she manipulates him, that she begins to mix emotion with political plotting, that she becomes unable to distinguish between the two spheres herself. That she uses Rinaldo for political ends appears to taint their love. On the other hand, Rinaldo senses the growing distance between them, but being a man, all he can think is: "Well, I am going to war and will be gone for a few weeks, and you’re afraid that I might not be faithful to you.” Mertl: It is remarkable in the musical design of the Rinaldo character that he constantly oscillates between the roles of knight and lover – there appears to be a constant struggle. Loy: In his favour, it should be said that he displays this kind of sensitivity. In the end, this is what breaks Rinaldo – the fact that he cannot resolve this conflict by committing to his people in this war. – Whereas I have to stress that the conflict between the ethnic groups is not all that important in this piece, at least not for me. Mertl: So this is not about the orient/occident conflict, in the sense of a political opposition? Loy: Not at all. I feel that the political situation these days is much too diffuse that you might use a play like this one in order to explain anything. For me this opera stands in the great tradition of works that engage with – and also challenge – the enlightenment. The orient, the world of Armida, Zelmira and Idreno, stands for all things emotional, for sensuality, for the negative facet of derangement and loss of control, but also for the positive facet of inner candidness, of curiosity, and of generosity. Mertl: You mentioned initially that you felt the opera to be very static and that you had a problem with that. How did you go about solving it? Loy: First off, I found it reassuring in a way that you don’t have to worry about the fact that you are going to produce an actionist opera, if you will. It’s all about letting those six characters swing back and forth within that magnetic field of sense and sensibility, although Ubaldo and Idreno certainly occupy the extreme positions. Mertl: I would like to come back to my first question – what is your view of this opera in relation to Mozart? Loy: Mozart was usually more interested in instilling his music with a certain plot dynamics. Haydn, by contrast, is much more of a symphonist, or so I feel. His arias are reminiscent of symphonic movements, where a theme is carried through and a concluding statement stands at the end. Yet this statement does not necessarily engender something new. This is also the case for the few ensembles. Mertl: What is your understanding of the end? It appears very strange, almost like a succinct Mozart finale: a short trio where the characters withdraw from the emotional stance altogether and take on a quite neutral position, an external perspective. Loy: Haydn has found a smart solution there, letting reason take the win at least formally. This military world more or less wipes out everything. I think Haydn is able to voice a bitter truth here: those who retreat to living by the rules and laws, instead of taking every moment at a time and truly perceiving the other – it is those who will survive, as long as the world remains the way it is. Mertl: Well, Armida does survive – at any rate, she does not perish in flames or descend into hell. Loy: I feel that in this final piece, Armida – who had been portrayed so tangibly earlier – loses everything personal and can in fact only appear in conjunction with these other two characters. There is a very strong feeling of becoming ordinary, and invisible, and of being levelled. In the end, Armida has no musical expression of her own left. Mertl: And neither has Rinaldo. Loy: Rinaldo has lost it at the end of the madness scene anyway. This is exactly what I mean: the horrible thing is that by the end all of them, from whichever side, have to succumb to something quite abstract, which I like to call the ‚soldierly’ spirit. It is the cruel extract of Western thought that, in the end, takes over. What I find so bitterly realistic about this ending is that the perverted side of reason finally triumphs –mnot reason in the sense of a clear, and purging, and refining unity. Mertl: So it is not about insight but mere military drill – maybe as the only possible exit from an irresolvable conflict? Loy: I think that both Rinaldo and Armida are exhausted from so much friction. As individuals, they have completely dissolved. They no longer exist as tangible characters. The conflict has not been resolved; all that has happened is a reciprocal annihilation. Mertl: In the description of this lethal liaison, this Armida is a piece of the 19th century much more than of the 18th century. Loy: Indeed, it is a surprisingly unconciliatory piece for its time. Mertl: The production will be staged at the Felsenreitschule. Loy: That is a very fortunate decision. The dimensions that are broached in this story fit in very well with a stage that physically demands the overcoming – or bearing – of distances. There can be safety in distance, when it gets to those tricky moments of farewell. On a small stage, there might easily be the stuffy air of the living room about it – the conflict of a couple that ceremoniously goes through its separation runs the risk of being felt as something anecdotic and bourgeois. Interview recorded on March 31, 2007 in Vienna. back