Three minutes for Agamemnon

Let’s start by talking a little about your artistic journeys – when did you realise that you wanted to study scenography or composition? Were there any formative experiences or encounters that set you on this path?

Laura: I went to school at the Musisches Gymnasium in Salzburg, where I focused on music, and took a bit of a roundabout route to scenography via a degree in law and economics.

Vid: I started out as a cellist, but I’ve always been interested in much more than just practising an instrument – all instruments, orchestras, singing… After graduating with a degree in cello from the Ljubljana Conservatory of Music and Ballet, I moved to Salzburg to study composition. I always felt that I could express myself much more deeply as a composer, even if I wasn’t actively performing on stage myself. I am fascinated by the idea of creating something out of nothing – especially in opera, where I get to design entire worlds. There wasn’t a single defining experience, it was more like a series of encounters with music (and other art forms) that led me down this path.

You’ve been delving deeply into the myth of Agamemnon for many months now. How did you approach this material – and what aspects of it did you find particularly fascinating?

Laura: I’m currently writing my thesis on Christa Wolf’s Kassandra [her influential 1983 reimagining of the Trojan myth]. I was particularly interested in the thematic overlaps and differences between the male-dominated Greek and later Roman tragedies and this modern female perspective. Both Seneca and Christa Wolf deal with the Trojan War, its background, the return of the victorious Greek prince Agamemnon to Mycenae, and the abduction of the Trojan women, among them the seer Cassandra. Myth does not contain a single truth, only interpretations that are always caught between the context of their time and our modern understanding, which is what makes characters like Cassandra, Clytemnestra and Agamemnon so complex and timeless.

Vid: When I was looking for material for my new opera, I wanted something mystical and dramatic. Alexander von Pfeil, the director of the production, then introduced me to Seneca and his plays – and it immediately clicked; I decided on Agamemnon. I was a bit hesitant at first because there are already some magnificent musical adaptations of this material, and it took a while for me to realise that I needed to distance myself from them. The decision to use Latin reinforced this distinction. Ultimately, however, I also had to distance myself somewhat from Seneca’s concrete ideas and philosophy and discover what I could develop from his text on my own. It is important to me that both the performers and the audience approach the music and the staging with an open mind. Seneca’s Agamemnon is a rich, poetic, and highly dramatic text. Behind this mythological tale lies a universal story whose themes can be applied to any era. I find it both astonishing and unsettling how relevant this ancient drama remains today. I was also fascinated by the play’s structure: five acts, characters who appear very late in the story, or those who disappear for long periods and then return just when you’ve almost forgotten them. What I particularly like is that all the characters get their own poignant moments. And the craziest thing is: the smallest role is actually that of Agamemnon himself! A tyrant doesn't need more than three minutes of music...

War, power, unbridled violence and the depths of the human soul are the central themes of the opera – and they are more relevant today than ever. What role do the parallels between today’s society and Seneca’s view of the world over 2,000 years ago play for you?

Vid: The parallels are alarming, and one wonders: Why can’t we find a way out? At the same time, the question arises as to what extent the stories we tell – and have told over the centuries – shape our perspective on war and violence and how we approach them, and and what artistic interpretations might help raise awareness of these dynamics and create alternative visions. “The epic, born out of the struggles for patriarchy, becomes, through its very structure, an instrument for its formation and consolidation.” (Christa Wolf; Voraussetzungen einer Erzählung: Kassandra, p. 200.)

Vid, when you think back on the creation of this opera: What was the most difficult moment – and what was the happiest?

Vid:  For me, the hardest part is working on the same piece for such a long period of time – and yet it can also be very rewarding. There’s something special about finding the calm and patience to immerse oneself deeply in a work. But that’s often difficult to achieve while still at university – you’re constantly confronted with criticism and new influences; you’re still inexperienced and learning all the time. When you’re deeply invested in a piece this big, it’s hard to deal with criticism. On top of that, there’s the terrible subject matter of Agamemnon itself, which has a powerful psychological impact. There were moments when I thought I couldn’t come up with any more music for the countless atrocities and wished for something more positive. Then, suddenly, almost comic moments would emerge in the text that called for something fast and wild – sometimes it was really enough to drive you crazy!

The happiest moment so far was when I heard the singers perform my music for the first time. But true happiness lies in accepting my work as it is and knowing that I’ve done my best. An opera can simply never be perfect.