Surprisingly, major scholarly works on the subject are few. Two books must be mentioned: Anthony Arblaster’s Viva la Libertà!: Politics in opera (1992), and John Bokina’s Opera and Politics: From Monteverdi to Henze (1997). Arblaster treats the subject from Mozart to the present, focusing first on class conflict in the late eighteenth century and moving through the long nineteenth century with chapters on bel canto, Verdi, and Wagner, through Eastern Europe and Russia, ending in the twentieth century with Puccini and Strauss with a final chapter, ‘Democratic Opera: Victims As Heroes’. His work also traces the rise of the chorus as the voice of the populace. Bokina takes a much longer time frame, commencing with Monteverdi’s three major operas, then Don Giovanni, Fidelio, Parsifal, Elektra, and Erwartung, culminating in Pfitzner’s Palestrina, Hindemith’s Mathis der Maler, and, finally, Henze’s The Bassarids. Both books include in-depth examinations of particular works, as well as contextualising them within broader political developments and the politics of opera commissioning and production.

Mitchell Cohen’s primary focus is on the way in which the origins of opera are inextricably interwoven with the political structures of the time. The book has a very different layout compared with the two mentioned above. Cohen divides his work into five parts, moving from the political theories of Greece and Rome to late Renaissance Italy in Part 1: ‘Metamorphoses, Ancient to Modern’. Part 2: ‘Mantua To Venice’, deals predominantly with Monteverdi, but also includes a lengthy and detailed discussion of the literary background of opera. Cohen shows how many of the men who developed early opera were close to political power, often being directly involved in politics themselves.

Plato is revealed as a profound source for early opera, while the intermedi – those brief musical interjections between the acts of a larger work – frequently use the concept of harmony in music as an analogy for political stability: music as a symbol of the establishment and maintenance of order. The intermedi in time outgrew the dramas in which they were embedded. The first two parts of the book focus primarily on the political arrangements in late Renaissance Italy where the ideas of Machiavelli permeated much of the political thought; Cohen notes: ‘Opera was born of the same era – its tail end – that gave birth to the notion of the “modern” state, or, more expansively, modern politics.’ Cohen is particularly good on the literary basis of opera, and the extensive role of the early librettists. Indeed, much of the discussion is on the words rather than the music, while Cohen spends much time tracing the intellectual background to Rinuccini’s now-lost opera, Euridice: ‘This, the second opera, translated political questions into an artistic experiment deploying music’s expressive possibilities.’

Bernardo Strozzi, Claudio Monteverdi, oil on canvas, 1630 (Wikimedia Commons)‘Under French Skies’, the third part, has the operas of Lully and Rameau and the complex politics of the French court in focus, whereas Part 4, ‘Ancients In Modernity’, discusses the transformation of the use of myth, with the libretti of Pietro Metastasio as the basis of the discussion, ranging from Paris, to London, to Vienna. Part 5, ‘...And Although I Am No Count’, is set primarily in Vienna with Mozart’s Da Ponte operas and Die Zauberflöte central. The layout and time frame of the book is logical: from the origins of the art form in the late sixteenth century to the death of Mozart – a neat dividing line provided by the political turmoil fermented by the French Revolution resulting in a radical rethink of the political role of opera in society. The early seeds of European Romanticism were germinating, leading to the Italian bel canto era, the rise of German romantic opera, and, ultimately, Wagner. Thus the book covers roughly the first two hundred years of operatic history, the period during which the art form was established and developed and which still structures much opera today. Politically, this period also spans the movement from autocratic city and nation states into more democratic dispensations.

The complexity and depth of the book is both its outstanding quality as well as a factor that might hinder broader success. Cohen’s knowledge of the political and cultural life of this period is exhaustive. However, the discussion is at times too wide-ranging and discursive as the focus on a particular opera or composer is obscured. Those seeking a book that engages directly and succinctly with the nexus between opera and politics might find this book too clever by half. Cohen makes no bones about the fact that he is no musicologist, but it does seem at times that the book is aimed primarily at historians, and some might feel musically short-changed. Despite these caveats, the book is a most welcome addition to the study of this important aspect of the rich history of opera.