From Greek Tragedy to American Opera:
The Making of the Operatic Agamemnon
Andrew Earle Simpson, composer
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A Detailed Look at the Score of Agamemnon Musical Characterization in Agamemnon
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Although we have made a 21st-century opera of Aeschylus' Agamemnon, the tragedian essentially laid its foundations in the 5th century BC. The text which has come down to us is structured to coincide perfectly with the conventions of modern opera; it is, in many ways, a ready-made libretto. A character's extended speech becomes an aria, dialogue between two or more characters becomes recitative (a quickly sung passage the function of which centers around the advancement of plot rather than melodic lyricism) or arioso (a lyrical melody somewhat smaller in size and dynamic scope than arias), choral passages become choruses, and there is even a choral finale, as chorus and principals interact at the tragedy's close.
Because Agamemnon was my first opera, I wanted to begin by setting a work which was already dramatically successful, thereby allowing its strengths to support the writing of the music. Twenty-five centuries of acclaim for this tragedy have provided a fairly secure foundation on which to build! In addition, setting a dramatically proven drama allowed me as a composer to focus on the essential powerful elements of the drama, and to enhance and illuminate those elements musically.
Beyond these factors, the most compelling reason for setting the Agamemnon is the power of the tragedy, and its perceived potential for success as an operatic work. Many Greek tragedies are intensely moving, but not all seem well-suited for operatic setting. Agamemnon and its companion tragedies in the Oresteia trilogy (Libation Bearers and Eumenides) present ideas in such a way that music would heighten, rather than weaken, their natural power. Many composers have made settings of Sophocles and Euripides, but comparatively few have done so for Aeschylus; both the librettist and I feel that Aeschylus is equally worthy of and suitable for operatic setting, and wish therefore to bring this arguably least-known of the three great Greek tragedians to the stage.
I also believe that contemporary music, with its expanded range of colors and expressive techniques, is uniquely well-suited to convey the emotional extremes and strangeness of ancient Greek tragedy. Because of the clearly demarcated nature of the text, the music for Agamemnon is set as a "number" opera, in the tradition of Mozart and Rossini. Arias, choruses, dialogues, and recitatives are clearly separated from one another; this facilitates the presentation of the material, and remains true to the spirit of Aeschylus' tragedy.
Agamemnon is a one-act opera, in eight scenes, about 90 minutes in length. Much discussion took place during both composition and rehearsal concerning the inclusion of an intermission. Finally, it was decided that the work should be performed as Aeschylus intended, building tension in an unbroken arc from beginning to end. I take comfort in the precedent of Richard Strauss' Elektra, also based on an ancient Greek tragedy and about 90 minutes in length, which was conceived, and is performed as, a one-act opera without intermission.
There are six principal roles in Agamemnon:
Klytmenestra, Queen of Argos (dramatic soprano)
Agamemnon, King of Argos (baritone)
Aegisthus, lover of Klytemnestra and cousin to Agamemnon (tenor)
Kassandra, Trojan princess and prophetess of Apollo (coloratura soprano)
Herald, from the Greek army (bass-baritone)
Watchman, servant of the royal house of Agamemnon (tenor)
A word about assigning voice parts. The decision to cast a character as one voice type rather than another is crucial, because it not only affects how the character is presented, it affects how that character is perceived by the audience. Whether one would like to admit it or not, certain stereotypes have attached themselves to voice types: the "soubrette," or light soprano, depicts a young, often innocent, maiden; the dramatic tenor is the hero; the bass is often the villain; the mezzo-soprano is a powerful negative force. Of course, opera abounds with exceptions to these types, but the types do tend to stick.
The voice type often reflects the character's age, as well: the lower the voice, the older the character. Again, exceptions exist. In this opera, Klytemnestra seems perfectly suited for a dramatic soprano: the power of the character, in middle age, is well depicted by this voice type. Agamemnon, as a rather pompous and plodding king, is well suited for a baritone role (a bass voice would also fit him). The usurper Aegisthus, who appears with less than full manliness (or at least is accused of such by the Chorus), is a high tenor (I remember thinking of him as a "wimpy" tenor--translate this to "character" tenor). Kassandra, the exotic priestess of Apollo, who has the opera's "mad scene," is well suited for high soprano. The voice parts suggested themselves naturally at first encounter, and that initial impression has been preserved.
The Chorus Leader (Soloist 1) role is scored for a high voice type, either soprano or tenor. In addition to the Chorus Leader, there is a solo SATB quartet, which engages in much of the recitative and small scenes on stage. Soloists 2-5 are soprano, alto, tenor, and bass soloists, respectively.
The Chorus has an extremely large role in Agamemnon: indeed, it is in some ways the protagonist of the opera, in that it has more music to sing than any of the principals, and some representative portion of the Chorus is on stage at all times. The Chorus is SATB, the ideal size of which, for the chamber version, is 12-16 persons (3-4 on a voice part). The full orchestral score would ideally require 20-24 choral singers (5-6 on a voice part).
Making the Chorus SATB represents a departure from the performance tradition of the tragedy Agamemnon in the theatre, as the Chorus for this first tragedy of the Oresteia traditionally consists exclusively of men, as it did in antiquity. However, I wanted to employ the registral range and power of an SATB Chorus, especially for the full orchestral version. Further, the relative impracticality of staffing a full male chorus at the collegiate level, for which this opera was originally written, confirmed the decision to employ both women and men in the Chorus.
In both the April 2001 workshop production and the upcoming March 2003 production of Agamemnon, a troupe of dancers are an intgral part of the opera's staging. DC-based Choreographer Douglas Yeuell and a troupe of five dancers participated in the workshop production; for the 2003 production in the larger hall of Hartke Theatre at Catholic University, seven dancers will participate. The dancers help both to provide additional stage motion, but also to assist in telling the story of the tragedy. The first choral ode, for example, Chorus I in the opera, is a 9-minute set piece which relates a great deal of information about the events preceding the action of the opera. Because such a great deal of information is being conveyed, the dancers are employed to illustrate events described by the Chorus, often to act them out in dumb-show, for the further visual engagement of the audience as well as extension of the emotional weight of the Chorus' words. ( Supertitles projected above the stage for the 2003 production will also help to engage the audience in the Chorus' message).
In addition to their supplemental expressive purpose in the four choral numbers, the dancers also appear on stage as soldiers in Agamemnon's procession and as members of Aegisthus' bodyguard, and interact with the Chorus and principals continually in a very fluid manner. Dance is an indispensable part of any staging of Agamemnon, and provides a further link to the tradition of ancient Greek tragedy: the inclusion of dance.
Choreography will also be incorporated into the Chorus' actions; both Choreographer Douglas Yeuell and Director Mark Jolin will develop motion for the Chorus throughout the opera.
A Detailed Look at the Score of Agamemnon
The score of Agamemnon is tonal: there is both an overall tonal center, D, for the opera, and a tonal center for each aria and scene in the opera.
Since the score is tonal, there is a governing tonal center at all times during the score. However, the tonal center, on a medium-range level, is likely to shift quite frequently during the course of an aria or scene. As a result, several "micro-islands" of tonal centricity may appear, during which a particular pitch is treated as a tonal center: this principle is essentially the same as that of employing secondary dominants in tonal harmony, in which other pitches besides tonic are temporarily treated as a tonic without actually changing the overall key. This action both provides variety in tonal emphasis and increases the flexibility of the harmonic language.
There is a central, generating chord for Agamemnon, which appears at the beginning, at the end, and at many places during the course of the work (this chord will be discussed in greater detail below, under "Musical Characterization"). The chord consists of two superimposed perfect fifths, G/D and D-flat/A-flat, separated by the interval of a major seventh:
Each of the six principal characters' roles in Agamemnon has a tonal center associated with this opening chord:
Klytemnestra (D); Agamemnon (D); Kassandra (G); Aegisthus (D-flat); Herald (A-flat); Watchman (G)
The tonal center of a given role also indicates the character's relative importance: those characters whose tonal centers are D have the same tonal center as the entire opera, thereby reflecting their most central position in the drama. The other three notes in the chord are represented by the remaining four principal characters, who are somewhat more peripheral to the action.
The melodic language of Agamemnon--that is, the ways in which the melodies develop--can best be described as "chromatic modal, " or "modal, with chromatic alterations." Given that each aria and "number" has a definite tonal center, and that these centers can shift during the course of a number, small modal melodic patterns--motifs--have been developed, which help at once to identify and strengthen the tonal center, and also to provide melodic unity throughout the score.
The dominant mode in place in Agamemnon is a synthetic one: it is a blend of such common modes as the Phrygian mode and the upper portion of the harmonic minor scale. However, the lowered fifth above the tonal center is also a very common characteristic. The concept of cross-relations--that is, employing both the lowered and raised versions of a pitch in close proximity--is also central to the melodic language of the opera.
Predominantly, then, the score is modal with a preference for the minor modes, with much free chromatic alteration: a very dark and intense melodic system. Some welcome relief is provided in Scene 4, at the Herald's entrance, reflecting a temporary relaxation of the tragedy's growing tension.
The dramatic applications of the melodic language are discussed in the following section, "Musical Characterization."
Musical Characterization in Agamemnon
(The following is taken from the text of a talk delivered at The American School of Classical Studies in Athens, Greece, in February 2002)
Because the opera Agamemnon is a stage work, and not a concert work, there are story-telling elements which the music can provide which are either not needed or not necessarily employed in a non-stage work. The orchestra can be a partner in telling the story of the work progressing on stage, reflecting, for example, the emotions or secret thoughts of the characters, or foreshadowing trouble to come.
So, let's begin with how the audience is supposed to perceive a given character. How the music is written helps to provide a non-verbal portrait of that character. I call such technique "musical charcterization." Let me explain how I have used this in reference to some of the principals in Agamemnon.
The character of Klytemnestra is the dominant one in the tragedy. As the work's protagonist, she controls the course of the action almost from the beginning of the tragedy. Her long-planned murder of Agamemnon takes place, as does her lover Aegisthus' accession to the thone as the new King of Argos. The force of her personality is such that she overpowers every over character, including Agamemnon, returning at the height of his power and glory as the conqueror of Troy.
This power has been reflected both in the size and the nature of Klytemnestra's operatic role. Klytemnestra's is by far the largest role in Agamemnon: she appears in six of the opera's eight scenes, and sings both the climax (Scene 7) and the closing lines of the work. In terms of sheer time on stage, then, Klytemnestra dominates the action: only the Chorus is on stage for longer; and, since the Chorus is continually on stage, the comparison between these two is somewhat moot.
Musical characterization comes into play through the nature of the character's sung role. Klytemnestra's music is ornamented, virtuosic, and chromatic, with a wide range (slightly larger than two octaves, from low B-flat to high B), a musical reflection of the character's intensity, power, and exoticism. Her role also includes at times a decided Balkan flavor, including asymmetrical meters and ornamented melodic figures, as in her first aria, "Troy Is Fallen, Troy Is Taken," in Scene 3. This first aria, in which the Queen celebrates the fall of Troy, reveals an almost excessive pleasure in the prospect of destruction. "Troy Is Fallen" opens the first window onto the ruthless and bloody nature of Klytemnestra. All of these factors serve to show both the brilliance and the fearsome quality of this formidable Queen.
Klytemnestra's music at the opera's climax, the so-called ekkyklema beginning Scene 7, when the corpses of Agamemnon and Kassandra are rolled out from the skene into full audience view, is extraordinarily wild and demanding. Set in her highest register, it resembles an ecstatic war-whoop of triumph, both bloody and barbaric in its crazed enthusiasm.
Agamemnon, although King of Argos and the victorious leader of the Greek army, is a relatively slow-moving and bombastic character in Aeschylus' Agamemnon (he does not come off particularly well in Homer's Iliad, either). But, especially when compared with Klytemnestra's brilliance and cunning, Agamemnon's straightforward brutality and use of power appear almost simplistic: he is as much caricature as character. Still, Agamemnon's bloodthirstiness is genuine, in which respect he is the full partner of his Queen. His Scene 5 aria, "Smoke Marks Out the Conquered City," expresses sentiments parallel to those of Klytemnestra in her Scene 3 aria, "Troy is Fallen."
The musical depiction of Agamemnon's character includes slower-moving, less ornamented melodic lines, though having a similar overall registral range (Agamemnon's range is exactly two octaves, from F-sharp a 12th below middle C to the F-sharp above middle C). Agamemnon's music is slightly less chromatic than Klytemnestra's: the two share many similar personal qualities, and chromaticism in this opera becomes equated with violent and complicated personality types and actions. Still, Agamemnon is a simpler personality than Klytemnestra, and his music is correspondingly less chromatic.
Kassandra, the Trojan princess and prophetess of Apollo, accompanies Agamemnon home to Argos as his war-prize, given to him by his troops. The first key to Kassandra, both in Aeschylus' tragedy and our opera, is her "foreign-ness." An Easterner, she is associated with excessive luxury and decadence, which was the common ancient Greek view of Eastern peoples (e.g. those inhabiting the ancient Persian Empire). Troy, located in modern Turkey, is an almost-Eastern city. Kassandra, as the daughter of Priam, the king, is a member of the royal house of Troy, and so to the citizens of Argos she represents the defeated enemy. A former princess therefore becomes a slave, and this drastic change of status for Kassandra is an appalling calamity.
The second key to Kassandra is her prophetic gifts: not only is she a foreigner and a barbarian (to the ancient Greeks, a "barbarian" was one who did not speak Greek), but her ability to prophesy about events in the past astonishes the citizens, and arouses their fear of her as a woman with strange abilities to match their contempt for her as a defeated alien. Thus, as a prophetess reduced to powerlessness, Kassandra becomes a focus of both hatred and of pity for the Greeks.
The musical depiction, in Scene 6, of Kassandra's Eastern origins, as well as her strangeness and intense suffering, were accomplished through a variety of means. Kassandra's vocal part is the most ornamented of all the principal roles, reflecting the more florid melodic style of Middle Eastern music. The instrumental accompaniments in both chamber and full orchestral versions employ such Middle Eastern techniques and instruments as finger cymbals; quick, brittle glissandi with fingernail on the harp; extended finger-rolls on drums; and heterophonic accompaniments (a texture in which melody and accompaniment play the same melodic line, but with slight variations between one and the other). Because Middle Eastern music is, to the present day, essentially monophonic (single-line melody without counterpoint) or heterophonic, that texture was reproduced in Kassandra's scene. There is counterpoint, especially in the section of Scene 6 which features a duet between the Chorus Leader and Kassandra, but on the whole, the scene is conceived heterophonically.
Kassandra's aria, "Woe for the Marriage of Paris," shows this heterophonic texture and highly ornamental melodic line very clearly. In addition, the more specialized instruments and techniques mentioned above can be seen in the score.
(Musical Excerpt coming soon.)
Kassandra has several moments where she is overcome by the need to give prophecies, accompanied always by great pain and suffering. Her capacity as Apollo's prophetess gives her great agonies, especially as her prophecies of future events are doomed never to be believed. The torment of Kassandra is musically depicted by dissonant harmonic language, a recurring triplet motive identifying her prophetic visions, and wide leaps and angular melodic passages. Kassandra has the highest role in the opera: her highest pitch, D6, appears at the moment at which she sees the vision of her own death. It is significant that, at both this moment and the moment preceding, in which she foretells the death of Agamemnon, the tonal center, and the pitch, are D. Because D is the tonal center of the entire opera, this secures these moments' positions as ones of crucial importance in the work as a whole.
The Herald, who has been sent ahead of Agamemnon's army to announce the King's imminent arrival in Argos, is an entirely different character from the three preceding. A soldier in the ranks, he is not a complicated person: in fact, it becomes apparent before long that he is not a particularly astute character, either, as very broad hints made by the Chorus are not understood by him. He is not part of the poisonous world of the House of Atreus, Agamemnon's house, and comes as an outsider to the stage. Thus, the musical reflection of the Herald's relative simplicity is music which is much more diatonic, (almost without chromaticism), is rhythmically quite straightforward, and is practically unornamented. Such a musical portrait distinguishes him very clearly from the other characters on stage--he has no part in their intrigues or deeper concerns--and his entrance in Scene 4 provides a welcome, and needed, relaxation of tension before the continued buildup to Agamemnon's arrival in the following scene. Aeschylus must surely have placed the Herald in the tragedy for just this purpose. His aria, "Hail, Land of Argos!," demonstrates his sincere joy at having safely returned home, and his pride at having been part of the victorious Greek army. The Herald has a comparatively small range, as well, from F-sharp up a twelfth to middle C.
The Herald does serve another purpose, however, which is to confirm the truth of what had formerly only been surmised: that Troy has indeed been conquered, and that Agamemnon is returning, victorious, to Argos. Until this point in the drama, the Chorus has been guardedly optimistic yet skeptical of the truth of Klytemnestra's Scene 3 announcement that Troy has fallen--in fact, by the end of Chorus II, which concludes Scene 3, they came to doubt the truth of it outright. The Herald's arrival provides the first tangible proof that the war is indeed over, and that the King is returning.
The opera begins with a solo scene: a lone Watchman is encountered at night, on the roof of Agamemnon's palace. He is looking for the pre-arranged beacon signal on a distant mountain peak, which will indicate the war is over, that Troy has indeed fallen. Eventually, the light appears, and the Watchman rejoices: his joy is briefly checked, however, when he thinks of Queen Klytemnestra, and what may await Agamemnon on his return. The Watchman is a loyal servant of the house of Agamemnon: through his words in Scene 1, he shows himself to be perceptive--he knows enough to be afraid, and is aware of the possibilities of trouble. He may perhaps be privy to rumors of Klytemnestra's plan, or has surmised as much on his own. In any case, he has seen much, but he is also intelligent enough to keep quiet: he is wise, yet simple in contrast with Herald, who is simple but not so observant or astute.
In setting the Watchman, then, his intelligence and perception call for a more sophisticated and chromatic musical setting than that of the Herald. However, his status is still humble, and his personality relatively free of guile: as a result, the heavy ornamentation and rhythmic complexity seen in Klytemnestra's and Agamemnon's parts are largely absent here. The Watchman is an intelligent but discreet servant, who is eminently trustworthy. He has no aria, but has all of Scene 1 to himself, in which his role ranges from very soft and low (F below middle C) to relatively high (A, a perfect fifth above middle C) and fortissimo.
Aegisthus, the lover and co-conspirator of Klytemnestra, appears as something of a weasel who only shows up on stage after all of the dirty work of murder has already been accomplished. Aegisthus is, at first, almost a stock villain, something of a joke: his strutting and posturing at his entrance in Scene 8 only serve to show his fraudulent heroism all the more. To reflect this imagined and artificial heroism, the opening recitative is written as a parody of Baroque opera seria recitatives, as a reflection of the fact that Aegisthus is merely the parody of a hero, rather than a genuine hero. The recitative, accompanied by harpsichord and solo cello continuo in the orchestra, employs many standard, "stock" Baroque stylistic traits, such as word-painting (e.g. a descending line on the words, "The gods gaze down from heaven on us men"), long melismas to show off the voice, and appropriately dissonant chords in moments of greater tension. The librettist has also contributed to this rather comic mood by making Aegisthus' lines into rhymed couplets: this is the only place in the libretto which has rhyming lines. Here are the opening lines of Scene 8, Aegisthus' recitative.
(Musical Excerpt coming soon.)
Aegisthus' music is quite tonal in this passage: his recitative is clearly in D-flat major, the only traditionally tonal passage in the entire opera. However, there is more to Aegisthus' character than his pretentious bearing: he does have a legitimate grievance against Agamemnon, and a very good reason for wanting him dead. At the end of the recitative, the celli and basses play a soft, slow-moving bass line to darken the mood and prepare the way for Aegisthus' aria, in a historical reference reminiscent of the ground bass pattern of Dido's famous aria, "When I Am Laid in Earth," from Purcell's Dido and Aeneas. Thus, the Baroque opera link is continued in the orchestra.
In Aegisthus' aria "Atreus, More Cruel Than Kind," the tragedy of his immediate family is revealed to the audience, giving a suddenly deeper cast to this initially shallow character. At this point, his melodic lines become more modal, and more similar to those of Agamemnon and Klytemnestra: his distinguishing characteristic consists of the very long melismas (strings of multiple notes setting one syllable) in his aria, melismas which the other characters lack.
The Agôn of Scene 5: A Confrontation Between Klytemnestra and Agamemnon
A particularly telling way in which the music enhances and reflects the dramatic direction of the tragedy occurs in the confrontation, or Agôn, between Agamemnon and Klytemnestra in Scene 5. In this passage, the Queen has just finished publicly welcoming her husband home to Argos, with effusive words of insincere praise and devotion. Under the guise of giving him the extreme honor he has earned, she attempts to persuade Agamemnon to walk into his palace barefoot upon a luxurious tapestry that the Queen has had spread for him. Agamemnon, schooled in the ethics of the plain soldier, does not wish to engage in such decadent and wasteful practice, as he regards it unbecoming of a fighter, and redolent of the trappings of the Eastern tyrants, one of whom, Priam of Troy, he has just put to the sword. Nevertheless, Klytemnestra manages to persuade him to do her bidding during the Agôn. Aeschylus has set up this confrontation to show a shift in power from the King to the Queen. At the beginning, Agamemnon is powerful and Klytemnestra is weaker, almost a suppliant. By the end of the Agôn, Klytemnestra has become forceful and assertive, insisting that Agamemnon walk upon the tapestry for her sake. Agamemnon, so strong at the beginning, complies almost meekly at the end. Librettist Sarah Ferrario observes of this passage that it symbolizes Klytemnestra's gaining verbal power over Agamemnon as a prefigurement of her later physical overpowering of him when she murders him in his bath.
Thus, the task was to reflect, musically and in the libretto, this shift of power. The excerpt from the libretto below shows one way in which this was done.
Agôn (from Scene 5) -
Klytemnestra (931)
Speak to me; tell me your judgment. (8 syllables)
Agamemnon (932)
My judgment I shall not hold back. (8 syllables)
Klytemnestra (933)
Would you do this in reverence for the gods? (10 syllables)
Agamemnon (934)
If a soothsayer ordained it, I would. (10 syllables)
Klytemnestra (935)
What would Priam do, if he were victor now? (11 syllables)
Agamemnon (936)
I think that he would walk these tapestries. (10 syllables)
Klytemnestra (937)
So do not fear, then, the blame of your people for this act. (14 syllables)
Agamemnon (938)
But the people’s talk has power here. (9 syllables)
Klytemnestra (939)
The lucky man inspires talk; others wish for what he has. (15 syllables)
Agamemnon (940)
A woman should not argue! (7 syllables)
Klytemnestra (941)
A conqueror should relent a little; that is just and right. (15 syllables)
Agamemnon (942)
You want this so badly? (6 syllables)
Klytemnestra (943)
Give in to me; you are still the victor and the stronger, even now. (17 syllables)
Note that, at the beginning of the Agôn, the characters' lines contain an equal number of syllables, 8. As the passage progresses, Klytemnestra's lines gain more and more syllables, and Agamemnon's lose more and more, until, at the end, Klytemnestra's last line has 17 syllables, Agamemnon's 6. Thus, line lengths are the librettist's way of showing the shift of power.
Musically, this shift was accomplished through dynamics, register, and the ornamental nature of the melodies. At the opening of the Agôn, Klytemnestra's first line is delivered pianissimo (very soft), on a low E-flat, in a quite low and not very powerful part of her range. Agamemnon's first line, however, is delivered fortissimo (very loud), on the same absolute pitch, E-flat, as Klytemnestra. However, in terms of register, the same E-flat which was not a very powerful note for Klytemnestra is right in the power register for a baritone, and he is able to project great force. The equality of numbers of syllables and pitch on this first exchange of lines provide the point of departure for the subsequent divergences. Gradually, then, Klytemnestra's melodic lines both increase in volume and complexity, and rise in register, while Agamemnon's undergo the reverse process. By the end of the Agôn, Klytemnestra's highest pitch is an A and octave and a sixth above middle C, fortissimo, while Agamemnon ends up in his lowest range, F-sharp and G-sharp a twelfth below middle C, pianissimo.
(Musical Excerpt coming soon.)
In this way, music and libretto have combined to underscore and illuminate the dramatic action in a passage which functions as the virtual turning-point of the work as a whole. This is another example of musical characterization's role in supporting the text's drama.
Characteristic Motives (Leitmotifs)
Another aspect of dramatic underpinning in stage works is the use of what I call "characteristic motifs," which can be short melodic ideas, an isolated interval, chords, or melodies. These characteristic motifs become associated with a particular character, event, or idea as a work progresses: the composer's task is to create that association in the listener's mind. I have created several such characteristic motifs in this opera.
I will begin with the most important one. There is a chord which recurs frequently in the opera: it is the first chord heard, is present at the opera's climax, and is heard at the close, as well. This chord, as the opera progresses, takes on the association of death: in particular, the death of Agamemnon. And thus, this so-called "Death Chord" is meant at each appearance to relate the idea of Agamemnon's imminent death (if it occurs before his murder) or remembrance of it (if heard afterward). Here is the "Death Chord":
One of the brilliant aspects of this tragedy is the sense of doom which saturates the play from the beginning. Something is terribly wrong: we sense it, the characters sense it. Indeed, so powerful is this sense of dread that occasional bright spots--points of light, as it were--which happen to flare up are almost immediately snuffed out again by this cloud of impending doom. Musically, this idea can be portrayed very well.
As discussed above, the Watchman is keeping watch on the roof of the palace, told to look for a beacon fire on a nearby mountain. The character tells us that he has been doing this every night for a year now, and would very much like to see that beacon. Then, almost unbelievably, he sees the beacon--the veritable point of light--in the distance. His initial reaction is one of joy and excitement: not only does the light mean his long year of watching is over, but it means that the war in Troy is over, and that the Greeks have won. Then, in the midst of his rejoicing, he suddenly thinks of what might happen once Agamemnon gets back. Suddenly, he is caught up short: the mood reverts chillingly to that of the opening, and--on cue--the Death Chord is heard, as well.
Here is another example of the Death Chord's significant appearance, from Scene 4. Klytemnestra is giving instructions to the Herald. She tells him to announce to her husband (Agamemnon) that he should return home "as quickly as he may," where his city waits for him. Heard under her arioso, in the orchestra, is the Death Chord, telling us what really waits for Agamemnon.
The idea of employing these characteristic motives is to add another layer of narrative for the audience. Those who know Wagner's operas may recognize this as the leitmotif technique, in which characters and ideas are assigned melodies or chords which recur in similar fashion throughout the opera.
Other characteristic motives are also used in Agamemnon. For example, a particular melody, which later comes to be associated with Klytemnestra, is first heard being sung by the Watchman in Scene 1, to the words "We [the servants] work the will of a woman of manly heart . . . " The melody at that point,
appears also in Klytemnestra's arioso in Scene 4, when she instructs the Herald to tell Agamemnon that he will find her a faithful wife upon his return:
(Musical Excerpt coming soon.)
Again, in Scene 6, Kassandra sings melodic material derived from this motive when she speaks of a plot in the palace to kill Agamemnon: "a great disaster is being plotted within the palace."
(Musical Excerpt coming soon.)
The nature of Agamemnon's text is such that ensemble numbers such as quartets and sextets, associated with much opera, are not practical here. There are several duetting dialogue passages, due to the nature of the many dialogues in the text (known as stychomythia), but the bulk of the principal's singing comes either in solo, or in combination with the Chorus.
There are four set-piece choruses in Agamemnon, each one shorter in duration than the one preceding it. In addition to the pieces listed below, the solo quartet has solos within some of these Choruses, and is responsible for many of the dialogue passages in Scenes 3-6.
Chorus I, which is Scene 2 of Agamemnon, relates evens leading up to the beginning of the opera, including the sacrifice of Agamemnon's daughter Iphigenia.
Chorus II, which concludes Scene 3, begins with a celebration of the fall of Troy, but experiences a mood change as the Chorus members begin to realize the ultimate futility of the war, and end by doubting that the war is over at all.
Chorus III, at the end of Scene 4, is about Helen, the wife of Menelaus whom Aeschylus' Chorus accuses of willingly absconding with Paris to Troy, thus requiring Menelaus and the Greeks to assemble an army to retrieve her by force. Angry in tone, it ends with the praise of Justice, and the assurance that right will prevail.
Chorus III leads directly into the entrance of Agamemnon in Scene 5, at which the Chorus acclaims the King, with their chorus, "Hail, Agamemnon!"
Chorus IV bridges the time between the end of Scene 5 and the beginning of Scene 6. The shortest of the four set-piece Choruses, it expresses the Chorus' anxiety and premonitions of evil to come.
During Scene 6, Kassandra's scene, the Chorus reacts to Kassandra's prophecies of Agamemnon's death with disbelief and dismay.
The climax of Scene 7 features Klytemnestra triumphing over the corpses of Agamemnon and Kassandra, and the Chorus' reviling and rebuking of Klytemnestra for her actions. The Chorus sings a tender lament for Agamemnon at the end of Scene 7, "O My King," which leads directly into Scene 8, the entrance of Aegisthus.
After Aegisthus's recitative and Aria, the Chorus rebukes him as it did Klytemnestra: the intensity and violent words increase, as the Chorus voices its hope for the return of Orestes, and Aegisthus threatens them with severe punishment.
The chamber instrumental version of Agamemnon is scored for violin, cello, piano, and one percussionist. Its first performance took place in the April 2001 workshop production at Catholic University: Warren Cecconi, violin; Gabriel DiMarco, cello; Jeffery Watson, piano; Donna Di Stefano, percussion; Jean Hsu, conductor.
The orchestral version of Agamemnon is scored for the following forces:
2 fl (II dbls. pc)/2 ob (II dbls. EH)/2 cl (B-flat)/2 bn (II dbls. cbn)/ 2 hn/2 tpt (C)/2 tbn/tb/hp/kybd/2 perc/str
NB: the keyboard part consists of harpsichord and optional organ
The premiere of the orchestral version took place in April 2003 at Catholic University, with Robert Garofalo conducting.