A dark tale of post-Iliad trauma, vengeance, sexual havoc and threatened infanticide, composed by one of the early 18th century’s most brilliant and under-recognized operatic masters. Similar material inspired such milestones as Euripides’ Andromache, Racine’s Andromaque, and Rossini’s Ermione.
This is by far the most disturbing work Ars Minerva has revived, set in a topsy-turvy world of grim beauty where mother love counts for little, erotic attraction excuses any cruelty, and conventional gender roles are reversed: Heroic males are at the mercy of their emotions, while women are the cold voice of duty and honor. Even death itself may not be what it seems.
Troy has fallen. Andromache, widow of the Trojan hero Hector, is the prisoner of Achilles’ son Pyrrhus, king of Epirus. Pyrrhus has fallen desperately in love with his captive and now shuns his fiancée, Hermione. Andromache is revolted at the idea of marrying the son of her husband’s killer; meanwhile, Hermione is by no means willing to be spurned without a fight. Orestes arrives, bearing an ultimatum for Pyrrhus: Kill Andromache’s and Hector’s young son Astyanax (Astianatte), or face war with Greece. Not incidentally, Orestes would also be delighted to rekindle his
relationship with the jilted Hermione.
Can a happy resolution ever be found for this tragic tangle of jealousies and emotional blackmail, in which a child’s life seems to have value only as a tool for coercion?