Haymarktet’s Alcina at the Ravinia Festival. Photo: Patrick Gipson

Karen Patricia Smith on Haymarket Opera’s Alcina: A Consideration of Aspects of Its Composition, Presentation, and The Ingenuity of the Handelian Da Capo Aria

Introduction

As a longtime audience member, and currently a board trustee of Haymarket Opera Company, I came to our recent production of George Frideric Handel’s Alcina as no stranger to Handel’s operas. His vocal works in general are a passion of mine, first encountered in 1966. At that time, a colleague of my mother’s, and a subscriber to the New York City Opera, unknowingly changed the trajectory of my musical life by giving my mother two tickets to a new production the company was staging. The tickets happened to be for a performance of Handel’s Giulio Cesare,  and singing the role of Cleopatra at that time was a then little-known soprano with a golden voice. Her name—Beverly Sills. As a result of that performance, I became transfixed by Baroque opera, and sought out these operas, Handel’s in particular, whenever and wherever they were being performed.

Karen Patricia Smith at Haymarket’s 2024 Early Opera Cabaret. Photo: Elliot Mandel

It gave me great joy when many years later, Chase Hopkins, our general director, invited me to write this essay concerning Handel’s Alcina, after having viewed the wonderful debut of Haymarket Opera’s production of this work for the renowned  Ravinia Festival in Chicago. With the kind assistance of Nick Panfil, associate creative director of writing and publications at Ravinia, and Frank Vilella of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, I was able to determine the very interesting history of previous full-length Baroque offerings at the Ravinia Festival. While there were notable performances of Handel’s oratorios Der Messias (German version, 1991), Israel in Egypt (2013), and a choreographed presentation by Mark Morris of Handel’s serenata/pastoral L’Allegro Penseroso ed il Moderato (2005), there have been only two previous programs of-full length Baroque operas in the past. In 1993, William Christie presented a double-bill concert version of Henry Purcell’s Dido and Aeneas and Marc Antoine Charpentier’s Acteon; and in 2011, The Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra, conducted by Nicholas McGegan, presented a concert version of Handel’s Orlando (2011). Within the relatively narrow focus of Baroque offerings at Ravinia, two observations can be made. In the genre of Baroque presentations, Handel emerges as the most well-represented composer; and Haymarket Opera’s 2025 presentation of Alcina is the first-ever semi-staged Handel/Baroque opera at Ravinia. 

As this audience member intently listened to and viewed Haymarket’s production, presented by an excellent cast of six singers—Nicole Cabell (Alcina), Emily Fons (Ruggiero), Elizabeth DeShong (Bradamante), Erica Schuller (Morgana), Eric Ferring (Oronte), and David Govertsen (Melisso), supported by an excellent period orchestra, conducted by Craig Trompeter—I could not help but be intrigued and captivated by Handel’s inimitable genius in constructing key operatic components, and his ability to weave them together into a dramatically cohesive whole. While I will mention a number of elements in this reflective essay, a nexus of my observations will also focus on the dramatic importance of the da capo aria, not just as an often-criticized opportunity for performers to demonstrate vocal ability, but rather as a tightly constructed gem that holds the potential for dramatic presentation. 

Therefore, in the essay that follows, I will offer my thoughts inspired by considering this performance, while sampling the context of the rich research trove available regarding Baroque opera and the work of George Frideric Handel.

Encapsulating Dramatic Essence Within a French Overture

In 1755, Francesco Algarotti (1712-1764), an Italian writer on the subject of opera, penned a critique of the genre entitled Saggio sopra l’opera in musica (An Essay on the Opera). In it, he heavily criticized many elements in opera, including the fundamental purpose and construction of an opera overture:

Among the errors observable in the present system of music, the most obvious, and that which first strikes the ears at the very opening of an opera, is the hackneyed manner of composing overtures, which are always made to consist of two allegros with one grave and to be as noisy as possible.…The main drift of an overture should be to announce, in a certain manner, the business of the drama, and consequently prepare the audience to receive those affecting impressions that are to result from the whole of the performance.…But our present composers look upon an overture as an article quite detached and absolutely different from the poet’s drama.

Born in Venice, Algarotti had traveled widely in Europe and most notably, had apparently spent some time in London. His work was well circulated in learned circles. We do not know if he ever met Handel, but it is inconceivable that he was unaware of the composer, and the acclaim he was receiving in London for his operatic works. Indeed, John Mainwaring, Handel’s first biographer, pointed out in Memoirs of the Life of the Late George Frederic Handel (1760) that while Handel was influenced by his trips to Italy, he also left his mark upon the music of Italians and that “Italians are as much indebted to him for their management of the instrumental parts that accompany the voice.”           

Fourteen years later, Christoph Willibald Gluck (1714-1787) would voice similar complaints in the dedication section of the score of his opera Alceste (1769):

I have felt that the overture ought to apprise the spectators of the action that is to be represented and to form, so to speak, its argument; that the concerted instruments should be introduced in proportion to the interest and the intensity of the words, and not leave that sharp contrast between the aria and the recitative in the dialogue, so as not to break a period unreasonably nor wantonly disturb the force and heat of the action.

In the case of Gluck, we know that not only was he aware of Handel, but that the two men had worked together briefly in London and had collaborated at the Haymarket Theatre there on a concert program, where Handel had played an organ concerto and Gluck, some of his chamber works. It has even been reported that Gluck admired Handel. Yet despite the esteem which Handel had achieved, it is interesting that Gluck did not mention him as an exception to the difficulties he found inherent in the operatic tradition. One wonders whether both Algarotti and Gluck had in mind only those composers who followed the patterns with which they found fault, rather than consideration of those who were exceptions to the rule.

Reflecting on the concerns both men voiced in their writings, what exactly did Handel achieve to the contrary, in the composition of his overture to Alcina? Does the overture accomplish the goal of preparing the audience for the actions to take place, rather than simply serving as an orchestral introduction that could be transplanted to serve as the beginning of an opera seria on any subject?

Craig Trompeter and the Haymarket Opera Orchestra (2025). Photo: Patrick Gipson

As I considered the regal opening of Alcina, I could not help but see the overall strong and unified connection among the sections of the three-part work, and its connection to the overall composition itself—the very antithesis of the issue that concerned both Algarotti and Gluck. To place the elements in context, it may first be helpful to offer a quick overview of our storyline.

The story focuses on Ruggiero, a Paladin (a knight whose objective is to achieve glory through the conduct of bold deeds) who is involuntarily transported to a magic island ruled by Alcina, a Circe-like enchantress, whose powers are centralized in an urn and who, with the assistance of a magic wand, has the ability to turn her castoff lovers into stones, trees, or beasts. She has fallen in love with Ruggiero, and through her spells has managed to capture his heart, causing  him to forget his past life. Ruggiero’s wife Bradamante, disguised as her brother Riccardo, and accompanied by her advisor Melisso, lands on that island. Melisso will, in Act II, take the form of Ruggiero’s former tutor Atlante, as a way of attempting to bring Ruggiero back to his senses. Melisso achieves this through the use of a magic ring. Alcina’s sister Morgana, a weaker version of Alcina, is the love interest of Oronte, Alcina’s General. But almost immediately, Morgana is drawn to the disguised Bradamante, thus rejecting Oronte. Alcina receives due payment for her evil machinations when Ruggiero sees Alcina for who she really is, and returns to his wife. Morgana is devastated to learn that the person with whom she has fallen in love is actually Bradamante, wife of Ruggiero. Eventually, she returns to Oronte. The magic urn is broken by Ruggiero; Alcina is bereft of power and significantly, love, bringing to a conclusion a story about the many manifestations of love, and its relationship to power and glory.

Alcina is an opera seria, (with a strong pastoral connection, which I shall discuss later), based upon a primarily mythological text. However, it is also, interestingly, a story which has some elements that would present more commonly as fairytale elements. Ludovico Ariosti, whose epic poem Orlando furioso is the origin for this libretto, had a rich imagination. His work, published in 1516, predated the appearance of the fairytale genre during the late 17th century. Fairytale elements include the transport of Ruggiero to the island by a Hippogriff (a creature most often found in folktales and fairytales), as well as the uses of a magic ring and magic wand. These elements, while certainly found in mythic sources, are more commonly seen in fairytales. The highly imaginative aspects of the story have strong appeal, and are the reason why so many librettists and composers found the material so attractive. Craig Trompeter, conductor and founder of Haymarket Opera, described Alcina as an appealing work in part because of the magical aspects that “swirl” the story (Ravinia Magazine, Fall/Winter Issue 2025).

Ruggiero Arriving on Alcina's Island (c. 1740), by Hyacinthe Collin de Vermont. Musée de Grenoble, Grenoble, France.

It seems evident that Handel had the essence of these magical elements in mind when he composed the overture for Alcina. This overture serves as a sort of musical mise-en-scene for the setting of this opera. It is divided into two sections, a sumptuous French overture in Bb major marked “Pomposa,” followed by a quickly paced “Allegro.” These are succeeded by dance movements, in the form of a Musette and a Minuet. While these are elements that could be part of any French overture, the music itself suggests something more. Alcina is the head enchantress on this island, an imposing figure who possesses serious wide-ranging power and magical capabilities. Most notably, in addition to the imposing presentation of the first part of the Overture, Handel makes use of swirling figures in the winds and strings. These easily convey an almost visual image of wand movements, very much suggesting the conjuring of spells. The Musette, on the other hand, suggests a pastoral environment, a setting that Handel was very fond of. This is followed by a lilting Minuet as a finale, in concert with a positive joyous aura. These are very much in keeping with the pleasant social interactions which, (except for Alcina herself) will take place for all of the others at the conclusion of the story. This particular overture, as far as can be determined, was never used by Handel for any of his other operas. The juxtaposition of the regal beginning with the more pastoral Musette and Minuet perfectly fit within the framework of the outdoor setting, such as would be found on an island. This Overture therefore fits the contours of this opera, and certainly cannot be viewed as superfluous to the subject at hand.

Similarly, the Sinfonia in D minor, which opens Act III, provides a forecast for the dramatic confrontations and protestations to come, opening with almost violent four-measure accented quarter-note statements from winds and strings, followed by rests succeeded by rushing 16th-notes. Handel chooses not to use the regality of a French overture here. It is in this act that Oronte and Morgana will argue, as the two cast blame on one another, for what each perceives to be fickleness and/or cruelty, a dispute which ironically and ultimately will lead to reconciliation. Alcina will be reduced to anger, fear, and thoughts of violence as she struggles to maintain her seat of power. In Haymarket Opera’s performance, this Sinfonia was played following Alcina’s angry exit from the stage after discovering that her invocation to the spirits has failed. The Sinfonia works well in either case, reflecting the mood in the first part of Act III, and also Alcina’s mindset after her invocation fails.

A second French overture in G minor appears at the close of Act III, following the mournful G-minor choral song of the liberated men who have now regained their human shapes. True, they are now liberated but, we are reminded, they have suffered much. This selection also forms the basis for a solemn dance, also in G minor, of the now “un-transformed” liberated men. Sarah McCleave in Dance in Handel’s London Operas (2013) points out the strong relationship between opera and dance sequences in some of Handel’s works. She reminds the reader that there were instances in German tradition where “dances and choruses share musical material.”  Handel, she points out, was certainly aware of German pastoral tradition, having set operas in Hamburg, some of which also contained dance sequences. In Alcina, he had an opportunity to draw upon his knowledge of that tradition and use it within the framework of an opera written in Italian, modeled on aspects of Italian tradition, for an English audience who also happened to appreciate dance.

Handel, however, had no intention of ending his opera on a solemn note. A joyous “Tamburino” in triumphant G Major signifies a release from bondage for those who had been deprived of human shapes and human lives for untold years. The dance also becomes a final joyous affirmation of love and honor reconciled. 

Therefore, Handel carefully utilized musical material within his overtures, sinfonias, and dances, purposefully integrating music with text for the intensification of dramatic context. 

Alcina as A Dramatic Pastoral Opera

In addition to being part of the opera seria tradition, Alcina is also a dramatic pastoral opera. While it is clearly dramatic, the outdoors, or should we say the “illusion” of the outdoors, is also central to the story. This factor plays a strong role in the sung text. Alcina’s “paradise” is actually a desert island that Alcina, through her magic, has turned into a beautiful palatial setting. While our Haymarket performance was a semi-staged concert performance without set changes, lovely plant props on either side of the stage adequately suggested this setting. However, the bountiful appearance of Alcina’s island turns out to be false, as false indeed as the love that Alcina has caused Ruggiero to feel for her. 

There are many scenes indicated in this opera. It is key to remember that a “scene” does not necessarily mean a change of physical setting. A scene change may simply indicate that there is a different set of characters on stage because someone has left while someone has just arrived, or vice versa. In Act I, the libretto indicates 14 scenes, but there are just three changes in actual scenery; one outside scene at the beginning, and two indoor scenes in Alcina’s palace and indoor gallery. Act II contains 13 scenes with indoor, desert, and garden scenes, as well as an underground apartment scene—or, four changes of scene, constituting two indoor and two outdoor settings. The final Act III has ten scenes with the las, transforming into a vision of the sea, “seen through a subterraneous cavern.” In essence, though, we have one indoor scene and two outdoor scenes. However, when we are indoors in Alcina’s castle, it is important to remember that we are really outdoors. This factor plays a major role in helping to more specifically define the opera, in my view, as a dramatic pastoral opera.

The Handelian Da Capo Aria: Agency and Dramatic Development

Erica Schuller as Morgana (2025). Photo: Patrick Gipson

The jewels in the crown of any Handel opera are always his arias. While the recitatives form the essential collet for the arias, setting the situation, moving the story along, and serving as introductions to the actions of the characters, it is indeed the Handelian aria itself that has the potential to capture the soul and imagination of the listener. It is this entity alone which, when properly executed, can propel the audience into a frenzy of applause following its conclusion. In Haymarket’s Sunday afternoon performance at Ravinia, the six performers—Nichole Cabell (Alcina), Erica Schuller (Morgana), Elizabeth DeShong (Bradamante), Emily Fons (Ruggiero), Eric Ferring (Oronte), and David Govertsen (Melisso), an impeccably selected ensemble of vocalists, skillfully demonstrated what I see as the essence of Handelian arias. Listening to them, it seemed difficult to comprehend why da capo arias eventually fell into such disfavor during the late 18th century. This, I would suggest, was in part due to the heavy focus upon the “star” singers performing the arias, sometimes at the expense of the actual material in the libretto. Because of this disconnect, there was the sense that returning to the A section of the aria seemed like a mindless exercise, even slowing down the action of the opera. C. Steven LaRue, in his essay “Handel and the Aria” (The Cambridge Companion to Handel, ed. Donald Burrows, 1997), has observed that:

“…because of the repetitiveness of the text, the da capo aria has often been seen as simply a vehicle for vocal improvisation and a shameless showcase for brilliant virtuoso singing rather than a form suitable for musical or dramatic expression.”

I would suggest, however, that reception also clearly depends upon the musical abilities of the composer, the manner in which he/she has integrated music with text; and finally, it most certainly is affected by the abilities of the interpretive vocalist. Countertenor Anthony Roth Costanzo, in a recent conversation with Marc A. Scorca, president of Opera America (OPERA America Onstage, November 4, 2024), pointed out that Handel’s arias often happen “inside the head” of the character, and that opera has the unique ability to express that psychology. He then offered the following example of how a Handelian da capo aria could present, in a  very “down to earth” situation:

Example:

  • A — A character sings of having romantic feelings for someone.

  • B — He calls his parent and says, “Mom, I have a crush on someone.”

    • (Mom’s new material is now part of the picture, even though she does not appear as a singing character in the aria.)

  • A1 — The character once again sings the text from A, but this time his romantic feelings may be colored by the conversation he had with his mother.

The “colorization” expressed by the character, who is now considering material in “B,” shows that while he still has the romantic feelings he first experienced, he is now in a slightly different place (expressed via appropriate ornamentation, facial and/or hand movements, etc.) than he was in when “A” was first presented. To put it another way,  the return of the “A” part of the aria (A1) should be regarded as a more dynamic manifestation of its earlier appearance, thus indicating that the character is not exactly in the same place that he was in when “A” was first introduced.      

George Frideric Handel, c. 1736, by Thomas Hudson. Foundling Museum, London.

Did Handel always consistently follow a defined pattern of presentation within his da capo arias? He did not. He used what seemed relevant to his text and what felt right to him as a composer. To demonstrate the variety of textual material Handel set to music in Alcina, I would like to offer eight examples that I consider to be unique arias that also stood out for me in Haymarket’s performance. I will provide a brief discussion of each.*

*Please note that English translations and capitalizations are taken from the IMLS anonymous libretto for this opera.



Arias Remarkably Composed; Magically Rendered  

Erica Schuller as Morgana. Photo: Patrick Gipson

1. When the disguised Bradamante first arrives on Alcina’s island, and is greeted by Morgana, in the  twinkling of an eye, an enchantress becomes enchanted. In Haymarket’s performance, Erica Schuller, adorned in a striking gold dress, delivered the very flirtatious aria “O s’apre il riso; O parla, o tace” (*“Your Smile, Your Words”), employing exceptional acting skills designed to capture the love of Bradamante. In the “B” part of this da capo aria, Ms. Schuller explored Morgana’s feelings about Bradamante more precisely, becoming more aggressive in her desires. 

Referring to the earlier model discussed by Anthony Roth Costanzo, this is an aria where the audience is privy to Morgana’s innermost thoughts, which are being shared with us, while she is attempting to engage Bradamante  with generous smiles. As Ms. Schuller moved on to the A1 section of this aria, her easily delivered ornaments now communicated more than just attentive interest. Morgana is suddenly in love.

Nicole Cabell and Emily Fons in Alcina. Photo: Patrick Gipson

2. In her aria, “Di, cor mio, quanto t’amai” (“Tell, O tell,  how much I lov’d thee”), Nicole Cabell’s Alcina  approached the strangers in a decidedly careful manner. She tells Ruggiero to show the strangers around her isle. Her aria serves two purposes. First, she wishes to communicate to the strangers her hospitality and to give them a sense of security. However, the specific places she tells Ruggiero to show them—the fount, the rill, the grove—are not the entities she has transformed through her enchantments. It might be interpreted that she is, in a sense, “throwing them off the scent.” Her aria was masterfully sung, with double intent. She is both instructing Ruggiero as to what to do to preserve her situation, and seducing him while she is doing so. In the “B” part of her aria, she focuses upon what she really is thinking about: her love for Ruggiero. Here, she seemed to be revealing her inner thoughts to us—how madly in love she is with him. Returning to the A section, Ms. Cabell’sornamented delivery was more passionate. She has truly revealed Alcina’s inner thoughts, and renders A1 with this in mind. 

Elizabeth DeShong as Bradamante. Photo: Patrick Gipson

3. Bradamante finds herself involved in a love triangle. In an attempt to fend off Oronte’s jealousy, she sings of her frustrations in “E` gelosia, Forza e` d`amore” (“`Tis Jealousy torments your Breast”). Elizabeth DeShong’s interpretation of Bradamante presented a mature (i.e. wise) and focused response to the challenge she faces. Dressed in black as her brother, austere in aspect, she never forgets why she has come to the island. Handel’s libretto implies that she can be impetuous; could this be why she has a guide, Melisso, by her side, who never lets go of the magic ring until the time is right?. In the B section  of the aria, “Per un bel volto, che ne vien tolto” (“For a lost Beauty you complain”), Bradamante attempts to resolve the dilemma that she did not initiate. She tries to convince Oronte that they are in a similar quandary, and then turns to Morgana and says that they are suffering the same fate. There is a Handelian silence at the end of Part B that conveys the import of the circumstances that they are all in. That silence allows the untenable situation to “sink in.” Then Bradamante returns in A1 to reaffirm her conviction that the three of them are all suffering at the hands of Alcina. However, while singing her text, Ms. Schuller’s Morgana physically waves off the jealous Oronte, thus further inflaming matters. Bradamante’s elaborating upon the situation vocally, combined with Morgana’s literally fanning the flames of “gelosia,” demonstrated that this situation will not be easily solved. Ms. Schuller’s acting served as an effective partner to Ms. DeShong’s sung text. Handel expert Ellen Harris (Handel and the Pastoral Tradition, 1980) points out that pastoral plots almost always revolve around complicated love intrigue[s]. Certainly, that is the case in Alcina

Elizabeth DeShong and Erica Schuller. Photo: Patrick Gipson

4.  One of the most memorable da capo arias in Alcina is Morgana’s “Tornami a vagheggiar, Te solo vuole amar” (“My Soul is full of you alone”). Ms. Schuller sang this aria joyfully, reflecting Morgana’s love for Bradamante. This is also an aria of seduction. Ms. DeShong was on the stage for the A and B sections. However, she ran off the stage at the close of B, as though to communicate to the audience that Bradamante is unable to withstand both the intensity of her emotions and her total frustration with the situation in general. Ms. Schuller escalated  Morgana’s emotions with impressive runs and trills in A1. In so doing, it appeared that there was “no going back” for Morgana, a conviction which, in this case, is destined to disappoint. This aria has an extremely mesmerizing dancelike melody, one that is barely irresistible. In fact, in a fully staged 2011 production given by Wiener Staatsoper with Marc Minkowski conducting, the courtiers who were present onstage gave in to the waltz-like melody, which culminated in a rhythmic circle dance. While we have no evidence that Handel could dance (in the truest sense of the word), we do know that he enjoyed dance music, which he frequently inserted within his operas. We also know that before leaving Germany for his Italian visit in 1706, Handel had had ample time to get acquainted with the German music tradition so rich in folk and dance music, a tradition which had also given birth to the beginnings of the waltz around this time. During his trip to London, Handel learned firsthand that the English also appreciated dance as part of their operatic works. Therefore, dance or dancelike movements, whether parts of sung arias or components of instrumental selections, frequently occurred in Handel’s music.

Emily Fons and David Govertsen. Photo: Patrick Gipson

5.   In Act II, scene I of Alcina, the audience is presented with a very unusual type of Handelian offering. Technically, while Ruggiero’s entry is referred to as “Largo” in the score, Winton Dean in Handel’s Operas, 1726-1741 (2006) notes that in the libretto used by Handel, a da capo aria was actually called for at this point. However, Handel had something else in mind. The “Largo,”—“Col celarvi, a chi v’ ama,’ un momento; Care luci, crudely Voi siete’” (“Oh cruel! For a Moment to deprive Your Lover of the Sight of your dear eyes”)—comes across as an “interrupted” da capo aria. We are expecting a full  aria when suddenly, the flow is interrupted by Melisso, disguised as Atlante, Ruggiero’s former tutor. The interruption has the effect of heightening the drama, and makes perfect sense. It was as if Handel wanted to keep the audience on its “listening toes.” Emily Fons (Ruggiero), dressed in a two- piece flowered suit during the performance, which certainly supported her image as a lovesick individual entrapped on a flowery isle, looked appropriately startled by the intrusion. This is also a high point in the drama, because Melisso wishes to jolt Ruggiero out of his entrapped lethargy. Melisso does this by appearing as Ruggiero’s tutor Atlante. This definitely gets Ruggiero’s attention. Through an exchange of recitatives, Melisso gives Ruggiero a quick tutorial, leading to something that Ruggiero has completely forgotten: his responsibility as a heroic champion who is supposed to be following the path to glory. Without further ado, Melisso places the magic ring on Ruggiero’s finger, which transforms the irresistible palatial setting into a desolate desert landscape. While the Martin Theatre audience during the semistaged Haymarket performance didn’t witness a physical set change, Emily Fons offered an appropriately shocked response to the “transformation.” This episode demonstrates that Handel had dramatic context as a major priority, and was willing to sacrifice what probably would have been a very fine aria (da capo or otherwise) for the sake of dramatic intent. This “interrupted aria” serves dramatic intent most effectively.

Nicole Cabell as Alcina. Photo: Patrick Gipson

6. It is halfway through Act II when Alcina realizes, via her General Oronte, that Ruggiero intends to leave the island. Here, Handel gives her a most remarkable aria, and Nicole Cabell delivered it with spirit. In “Ah! mio cor! schernito sei Stelle! Dei! Nume d’Amore!” (“Ye gentle Gods of Love, Am I thus left despis’d!”), we see two different sides of Alcina within one aria. The Andante Larghetto A section, with its eighth notes separated by rests, seems to convey a slowly approaching realization as Alcina attempts to come to terms with the fact that through deception, Ruggiero intends to leave the island. In delivering this part of the aria, Ms. Cabell was appropriately distraught in aspect. Accompanied by theorbo, she brilliantly conveyed the image of a woman who has been cast aside. She moved from referring to Ruggiero as a “traitor” to a fiery delivery in section B, where she outlined what Alcina will do to Ruggiero if he doesn’t return: “Ma che fa’  gemando Alcina? Son Reina, e tempo ancora? Resti, o Mora” (“But why these dull Complaints?  I’ve Time and Pow’r. Traytor, Return or die”).  

In her interview for Ravinia (Fall & Winter Preview, Vol.18, No. 6), Ms. Cabell stated that she likes portraying Alcina because she is “quite three-dimensional and not just evil. It’s really a challenge to bring some humanity to her.” The complexity of Alcina’s persona was certainly demonstrated through Ms. Cabell’s performance. Quickly, in the A1 section, she reverted to despair, utilizing appropriate ornamentation, thus illustrating her dual feelings. Her inner struggle between love and vengeance was certainly well portrayed in the A B A1 format of this da capo aria.

7. With the attempt made to balance despair vs. rage, Alcina moves to action. In scene XIII, set in Alcina’s “Subterraneous Apartment,” the libretto informs us that she is surrounded by the tools of her trade— instruments needed to summon the Spectres. There follows an angry B-minor accompanied-recitative invocation directed to the spirits (well acted by Ms. Cabell), whom Alcina calls upon to assist her in punishing Ruggiero: “Del pallido Acheronte, Spiriti abitatori, e della note, Ministri di vendetta, Cieche Figlie crudeli, a me venite” (“Ye Spirits that on Acheron’s dark Shores, For ever dwell, ye Ministers of Night, Offspring of blind Revenge, haste, haste to me;…”). Handel heightens the drama in this scene by punctuating aspects of Alcina’s commands with silence as she awaits the responses of the spirits. Four times she calls out, and four times her commands are rejected. The silences are deafening. In the E-minor aria that follows, “Ombre pallide, lo so’, mi udite” (“You hear, I know, false airy Forms”), Alcina questions why the spirits over whom she has had so much power in the past are now rejecting her commands. In the B section of this aria, she points out that her lover has been unkind to her, yet now her magic wand is still failing her. During this aria, Ms. Cabell effectively utilized hand movements in an attempt to summon the spirits. Following the B section is a Handelian silence, which further adds suspense and drama. When Ms. Cabell returned to the A1 section, it was with fresh knowledge that Alcina’s powers had vanished; she could no longer rely upon her wand. The libretto indicates that Alcina throws it away as she exits the scene.

Emily Fons, Erica Schuller, and Nicole Cabell in Alcina. Photo: Patrick Gipson

8. While Handel continually made creative use of the da capo aria for solo voices, he rarely used this form for three individuals in terzetto. In Act III of Alcina, he treats us to a rare use of this form by three principal characters—Alcina, Bradamante, and Ruggiero. While each soloist is participating, Handel effectively shows that although the aria is more complex, it can successfully achieve multiple goals at once. This terzetto also demonstrates a “three on one” approach, as Rugggiero and Bradamante, now reunited with one another, are also united against Alcina. This unequal presentation cleverly enriches the story and the aria while turning the situation on its head. When Bradamante first arrived on the island, despite being accompanied by Melisso, the balance was not on her side: It was Ruggiero and Alcina vs. Bradamante. However, in this terzetto, devoid of her magic wand, Alcina is now powerless and finds herself up against the power of true love and the sparkling image (for Ruggiero) of heroic glory. All that remains is the potential breaking of the urn to totally destroy her and her island. In the A section of the surprisingly jaunty B-flat major aria “Non e` Amor, ne` Gelosia” (Nor is this Love, nor Jealousy”), the three characters cast judgments upon one another. Ms. Cabell passionately sang Alcina’scase, while Ms. Fons and Ms. DeShong as Ruggiero and Bradamante firmly refuted her entreaties, with redemption not an option. In the G-minor B section, the two lovers exclude Alcina from the conversation, and sing of their loyalty to one another. Alcina, now ignored, does her best to wish them well, to deflect the inevitable. Part of the B section of the “conversation” follows below:

Alcina: Solo affanni; e solo pene—
    May endless Fears and Pains alone—

Bradamante/Ruggiero: Solo gioie, e solo bene—
    May endless Peace and Joy alone—

Alcina: Premio fian di vostra fe’
    —Be your Faith’s Reward.

Bradamante/Ruggiero: Premio fian di nostra fe’
    —Be our Faith’s Reward.

Alcina, Bradamante, and Ruggiero are literally singing at cross purposes. In the A1 return, it is quite clear 

that the argument has been thought through, and Alcina can expect no pity from either Ruggiero or Bradamante. Ms. Cabell’s plea of “Pieta” (“Pity”) was moving and distraughtly sung. Alcina knows that her petition will be denied. Even so, Handel gives her the final pleading, ornamented phrase at the close of the aria, while the two protagonists are silent.

The Transformations of the Chorus

Eric Ferring and Emily Fons in Alcina. Photo: Patrick Gipson

 Alcina contains four choruses. Haymarket Opera presented three of them, and creatively utilized its six performers as chorus members in each of the three appearances. In the score, one chorus appears in Act I, and three in Act III. Handel strategically has his chorus presentations serve three different purposes in the opera, while at the same time using them to balance its structure. Act III has the fewest number of arias (seven), but three chorus selections, while Act II, with 21 arias listed on the score, has no chorus selections at all. Act I, with nine arias, has just one chorus. It should be noted that, due to time constraints, Haymarket did not include some arias in the Ravinia performance, notably those for “the Boy,” who will be discussed shortly.

When the chorus first appears (performed by Haymarket’s six cast members) in “Questo e’ il Cielo di contenti, Questo e’ il centro del goder” (“Here’s the Seat of endless Pleasure, Centre of unbounded Joy”), its members are presented as Alcina’s courtiers. Handel gives them a quietly lulling melody in F major, with the voices presented in an almost homophonic hymn-like style. The courtiers wish to convey to listeners that all is well on this lovely isle. Alcina, we are led to believe, has her island inhabitants “in check,” with no fear of insurrections from unhappy courtiers. 

While the dramatic situations percolate in Act II, the chorus is absent. When we do hear from them again, we are in Act III. The role of the chorus has changed. It is no longer composed of contented courtiers but rather seems to have a narrative voice, encouraging the young victim, Oberto, that he can do great things. The perspective in this D-major chorus, “Sin per le vie del Sole” (“A glorious Offspring [Oberto] on a daring wing,” is hopeful. However, in the solemn G-minor chorus, “Dall’ orror di Notte cieca” (“Who has redeem’d us from our senseless State”), the role of the chorus changes once again. The chorus is clearly now composed of the victims. They have been transformed from their mute states back into their original forms as knights. Handel gives each group (those who were stones, plants, and streams) an individual voice and an opportunity to speak: “lo fui Belva, io sasso, io Fronda” (“But now a Stone, a Plant, a Stream”). However, while they are no longer victims, we as the audience understand that as victims, they now have to come to terms with having missed so many years of their natural lives. During this chorus, Ms. Cabell held Ms. Schuller’s hand, as Alcina and Morgana face those whom the sorceress had previously victimized. The tables have now been turned.

The transformed (in the libretto and score) are also given an opportunity to dance, displaying their new- found freedom, while participating in a French overture-style presentation, which appropriately conveys the idea of humans coming back to life. This quickly becomes a spirited tamburino, in which they are now fully unleashed from their mute states. The final presentation of the chorus, joyfully sung by Haymarket’s six cast members, is the unbridled “Dopo tante amare pene, Gia’ proviam conforto all’ alma;” (“After the bitter Torments past’, Our Souls find Peace and smiling Joys at last;”). This bright G-major chorus suggests both the joyful feelings of the liberated, as well as the emotions of the major figures in the opera (with the exception of Alcina and Morgana), whose stories have been happily concluded. In the Haymarket performance, all six cast members participated in this buoyant melody, communicating to the audience that this wonderful tale had now come to a happy conclusion. 

The Case of the “Missing” Boy

Due to time constraints, it often happens that certain sections must be removed from performances. It is always hoped, when this occurs, that those excisions , will still leave the extant story line coherent enough for the audience to follow what is happening; and also that the work of the composer, in this case George Frideric Handel, will still be presented in a way worthy of him. The Haymarket performance of Handel’s Alcina on August 24, given judicious textual changes, the high quality of the performers on stage both vocally and in terms of acting ability, and the excellence of the orchestra, certainly met these requirements. 

In the course of studying the libretto and Handel’s score and conducting my research, I became intrigued by the character of Oberto, who did not appear in the Haymarket performance. As it happens, Oberto almost did not make it into Handel’s score at all. Apparently, William Savage, a young boy with a gift for singing, had recently come to Handel’s attention, having sung successfully in a recent performance of his oratorio Atalia (Winton Dean, Handel’s Operas, 1726-1741, 2006). At the last minute, Handel decided to create a role for him: Oberto, a young boy on Alcina’s island, searching for his missing father. Handel’s insertion of this young boy was a pure genius move on the part of the composer, both personalizing the dramatic intensity of Alicina’s wicked ways, and simultaneously, and quite ironically, showing that she was capable of maternal instincts. She could have easily transformed Oberto into a rock, a stream, a tree, or an animal, as she had his father. She doesn’t do this, however. Oberto is given three well-placed da capo arias in Alcina. He first appears as an innocent and despondent child in search of his father in Act I, singing “Chi m’ insegna il caro Padre?” (Ah! Who will tell me where to find my dearest Father?”). In Act II, he is shown as a more hopeful young person, yet still consoled by Alcina’s comforting but duplicitous words. In the libretto, she is shown as having motherly compassion for him,but not enough to reunite him with his father. Nonetheless, the combination of her words and the words of the chorus of victims inspire Oberto to sing the aria “Tra speme e timore” (“Now Hopes succeed my former Fears”). However, Alcina senses that Oberto will not let go of his search for his father, which is concerning to her. Additionally, due to her own insecurities given her failed love situation, she is not inclined to be overly compassionate.

When we arrive in Act III, Alcina is in a state of angry terror. Any maternal feelings she had for Oberto have vanished. She impetuously plans patricide, and tries to get Oberto to kill a lion— which happens to be his transformed father. Oberto, however, sensing that there is more to this beast than meets the eye, refuses to do so, and points Alcina’s dart menacingly back at her! He sings his final startling da capo aria in triumphant A major, “Barbara; Io ben lo so’; E’ quello il Genitor, Che l’empio tuo furor” (“More savage than the brutal kind; This is, I know, my dearest Sire, In this senseless Form confin’d”). This aria fully expresses Oberto’s realization of Alcina’s cruelty. One could say that he has now fully matured, and is completely aware of what has transpired.

Handel’s inclusion of the boy who was “missing” from his original score once again demonstrates in this opera his strong dramatic capabilities and his awareness of the necessity of balance and control of the process needed to build and maintain dramatic intensity, while also seizing an opportunity to add even more depth to the multi-faceted character of Alcina.

Epilogue

In this essay I have sought to share my thoughts inspired by Haymarket’s important and memorable performance of Alcina on Sunday, August 24, 2025. These thoughts also take into consideration my reflections on related pertinent issues and relevant scholarly writings. These, in combination, helped inform my reception of this opera, one of Handel’s most memorable, and certainly one of his most important. This is an opera well deserving of  even greater visibility as a fully performed work in the United States.

Full company. Photo: Patrick Gipson

Alcina was a hit in 1735, and was given multiple times that season in various forms. Unfortunately, we do not have a treasure trove of personal responses to Alcina’s 1735 performance. However, we do have a recollection of a rehearsal, which has often appeared in scholarly Handelian literature, probably because it was so simply and beautifully stated. Mary Granville, also known after marriage as Mrs. Delany, recounts in her memoir (Autobiography and Correspondence of Mary Granville, Mrs. Delany, Vol. I, ed. Lady Llanover, 1861), that she first met Handel  at the age of ten. She became a close friend of the composer and indeed, a great admirer of his music. She was privileged to have been invited to Handel’s home on Brook Street on April 16, 1735, to hear a rehearsal of excerpts from Alcina, which Handel had just finished composing on April 8. Her reaction was as follows:

“Whilst Mr. Handel was playing his part, I could not help thinking him a necromancer in the midst of his own enchantments.”

By offering Alcina, with a cast of excellent performers and a superb period orchestra, Haymarket Opera has certainly presented the Chicago-area audience at the 2025 Ravinia Festival with an excellent performance of an important Baroque work. At its conclusion, the audience rose with a cheering standing ovation. It was indeed, a night to remember.

Learn more about Haymarket’s 2025 performance of Handel’s Alcina.


About the author

Karen Patricia Smith in front of the Thorne Miniature Room: English Reception Room of the Jacobean Period, 1625–55, created circa 1937. Art Institute of Chicago.

Karen Patricia Smith is professor emerita of Library and Information Studies at Queens College, New York. Throughout her life, she has maintained a strong and committed interest in three very different areas: Baroque music, literature for young people, and teaching. She earned a B.A. in Music at Herbert H. Lehman College, New York, where she was awarded the Charles Hughes Music History Award. She has also earned advanced degrees in education from Lehman (M.S. in Elementary Education/Reading) and at Teachers College, Columbia University, New York (M.A. in The Teaching of English; Ed.M. in Communication, Computing and Technology in Education/Instructional Technology and Media). She earned a doctorate (Ed.D. in Curriculum and Teaching) in 1982, also at Teachers College. Karen served in the positions of teacher, curriculum writer, and principal for the Yonkers Public Schools in New York prior to joining the faculty as professor at Queens College in 1987. There, she specialized in teaching children’s and young-adult literature courses to future youth-services librarians, and wrote and edited numerous publications in this area. While teaching and also giving presentations in the U.S. and abroad, Karen’s interest in Baroque music continued to grow. As an amateur musician, she studied Baroque recorder and took up the challenge of beginning to learn the Baroque oboe. She earned a Certificate in Core Musical Skills in the Evening Division of the Juilliard School of Music in 2022. Passionate about Baroque opera, in particular the works of George Frideric Handel, she was thrilled to hear about Haymarket Opera Company years ago on a visit to Chicago. She became a regular attendee, greatly appreciating the inspired and elegant performances of this wonderful company. She was honored to have been elected to the Haymarket Opera Company Board of Trustees in Spring 2021, and has also served as secretary since 2022.

About The Haymarket Review: This new digital publication including thoughts about  the work produced by Haymarket is designed to deepen our connection to audiences, nurture and feed audience curiosity about historical performance, offer critical opinions and thoughtful reflections on our performances, and provide a forum for Haymarket and its audience to connect through sharing insights, opinions, learning, and expertise.