Thursday, May 28, 2026
Amid a ferocious storm, a monster, risen from the deep, is ravaging the citizens of Crete. (The sea was angry that day, my friends.)
Shunned by his father, without hope of marrying the woman he loves, Prince Idamante steels himself to face the creature, vowing: “I shall wander alone, searching for death until I find it.”
“Andrò ramingo e solo” (the sung Italian text) rings out toward the end of Mozart’s three-act opera “Idomeneo, King of Crete,” winningly presented by Washington Concert Opera on May 9 in Lisner Auditorium. Begun as a mournful aria, it becomes a quartet of misery.
“Where you die, I too will die,” responds Ilia, the prince’s beloved. King Idomeneo asks, “Who, in mercy, will take my life?” Off to the side, Ilia’s rival Elettra wants to know, “When shall I be revenged?” All four agree on one thing, however: “No one has ever suffered a harsher fate or greater punishment.”
This exquisite if harrowing quartet leaves no doubt that “Idomeneo” — though it premiered shortly after Mozart’s 25th birthday, in January of 1781 — was the work of a composer who had come of age. That March, he moved to Vienna, marrying Constanze the following year.
Mozart wrote that, after attending a rehearsal, Prince-Elector of Bavaria Karl Theodor, the music-loving ruler who commissioned the opera, commented: “Who would have believed that such great things could lodge in so small a head?”
Idomeneo was a Greek general in the Trojan War of the late 13th/early 12th century B.C., leading from Crete some portion of the thousand ships launched by the face of Helen of Troy.
Said to be rescued by the god of the sea (Poseidon to the Greeks, Neptune here), Idomeneo was required to sacrifice the first person he encountered: his own son. In the opera, Idomeneo tries to evade this terrible duty by sending Idamante away with Princess Elettra. (The three have a lovely act-two trio, “If I must leave.”) Elettra desires Idamante, but Idamante has fallen for Trojan Princess Ilia, a trophy of war. Though she loves him in return, torn by her loyalty to Troy, she dares not tell him.
Mozart later rewrote the part of Idamante — originally portrayed, to the composer’s dissatisfaction, by soprano (castrato) Vincenzo dal Prato — for tenor voice. In WCO’s production, Idamante was sung by mezzo-soprano Stephanie Doche in a black pantsuit, a gender swap known as a “trouser role.”
Idamante’s big scenes come in the third act. In addition to the quartet, there is an “I love you … I adore you” duet with Ilia (the chorus sings: “Love has decreed it”) and an aria that begins “Father, my dear father,” when Idamante is reunited with Idomeneo after slaying the sea monster. Both were beautifully sung by Doche.
At that reunion, the distraught king curses “Barbarous, impious fate.” Idamante movingly states, “I commend Ilia to you. If she cannot be a wife to me, then let her be a daughter to you.” The response: “Receive my final embrace, and die.”
Before I reveal what happens next, let’s talk about Idomeneo, sung by tenor David Portillo.
The idea behind “concert opera” is to focus on the music, almost as if one were listening to a recording, omitting sets, props and, for the most part, costumes and acting. Though they make entrances and exits, the singers face the audience in a line at the front of the stage, referring to their scores on music stands.
For better or worse, the dark-suited Portillo did not get the memo. Having memorized his part, he moved freely along the left half of the Lisner stage, at times turning away from the audience. Fairly often, he closed his eyes while singing. During Ilia’s aria, “I have lost my father, homeland and peace, yet you are now a father to me,” he kissed her hand.
Portillo’s voice was both sweet and strong, with a pleasant grain. He had a lot to sing, and only rarely was Mozart’s coloratura a challenge. After the “Saved from the sea” aria, introduced with pizzicato strings, in which he tossed off a high D (I believe), WCO Artistic Director Antony Walker applauded him from the podium.
As Ilia, soprano Amanda Forsythe appeared in a white gown with a spangled top and a gold necklace (Doche also wore one, while defying her princely presentation with a low-cut blouse). The role calls for a soprano voice that can be both dramatic (“O wretched life! O sweet death!”) and ethereal (“Sweet, seductive breezes”), and Forsythe’s was, with an impressive dynamic range and a bell-like upper register.
More frightening than the offstage sea monster was Aviva Fortunata, who replaced Amanda Woodbury. Evoking Maria Callas at times, in a violet gown with one shoulder bared, her Elettra was genuinely electric, with effortless high notes. Gesturing, she bitterly asked: “Shall I see a Trojan slave [Ilia, that is] share his [Idamante’s] marriage bed?” Even in slower passages — alternating with the chorus in act two’s “Calmly the sea is calling,” for instance — she sang with intensity.
The cast of seven also included tenor Matthew Hill as Idomeneo’s confidant Arbace, tenor David Artz as the High Priest and bass-baritone Jim Williams as the Voice of Neptune. Hill delivered his second-act aria spiritedly. Artz sang with decisive clarity, holding a long note with the chorus.
As for Williams, Neptune’s message is heard from offstage, accompanied by brass and timpani (it helps to picture the statue in Virginia Beach at this point). Idamante will not be sacrificed; instead, he will become king, with Ilia as his queen. “Love has triumphed!”
This otherwise joyous event triggered Fortunata’s star turn, Elettra’s mini mad scene: “No! … Rend my heart, horned vipers, serpents!”
In the Greek legend and the French text adapted by Mozart’s librettist, Salzburg court chaplin Giambattista Varesco, Idamante is sacrificed by his father, the king, who flees and/or goes mad. Sparing the gore, Mozart and Varesco wrapped everything up neatly in their Enlightenment-era retelling, commissioned for carnival season in Munich. Order is restored in what WCO co-founder Peter Russell called in his program essay “a feel-good finale of abdication and succession.”
The 36-member orchestra plus harpsichord (uncredited — was it played by Assistant Conductor and Chorus Master David Hanlon?) delivered a polished, animated performance. From where I sat, the harpsichord, though a welcome addition, seemed overly amplified. Behind the orchestra stood a 36-member chorus, most effective when it sang as a whole.
Conducting without a baton, Walker intently guided the orchestra and chorus, conveying the score through his eyes, hands, arms and knees.
Despite the success of “Idomeneo,” it was neglected for almost two centuries in favor of the comic masterpieces that followed: the three operas with Lorenzo Da Ponte librettos, “The Marriage of Figaro,” “Don Giovanni” and “Così Fan Tutte,” and the German-language “singspiel” (ballad opera) “The Magic Flute.”
When Julius Rudel conducted the rarely heard opera during a three-week Mozart Festival at the Kennedy Center in 1974, it drew Mozart lovers from far and wide. Walker conducted “Idomeneo” in 1999 for Wolf Trap Opera, which revived it in 2018.
If you missed it at Lisner, plan to attend Washington National Opera’s production next March in Shakespeare Theatre Company’s Harman Hall. (WNO last mounted “Idomeneo” in 2002, with Plácido Domingo as the king.)
In 2026-27, its 40th anniversary season, Washington Concert Opera will present Haydn’s “Armida” on Oct. 24, Massenet’s “Don Quichotte” on March 14 and Bellini’s “Il Pirata” on May 2.