Opera Don Carlos Program Notes Sheet Music and Recordings

Program Notes & Analysis

Verdi's Problem Masterpiece: A Parisian Epic

Don Carlos is Verdi’s problem child. It is, along with Simon Boccanegra, one of his darkest, richest, and most psychologically profound works, and it is also his most mutilated. The opera's history is a confusing labyrinth of versions. It was commissioned by the Paris Opéra, the temple of French Grand Opéra as defined by Giacomo Meyerbeer (the composer of Les Huguenots). This meant Verdi was contractually obligated to deliver a massive, five-act blockbuster complete with a mandatory ballet (the Ballo della Regina), huge historical pageant scenes, and a political plot. Verdi, who had already composed Les vêpres siciliennes for Paris, both relished and resented this. He produced a score of unprecedented length and complexity. At the 1867 premiere, it was a polite success, but at over four hours, it was simply too long. Verdi himself made massive cuts even before the premiere, and he would spend the next 20 years of his life obsessively revising it. He cut out the first act (creating the 1884 Milan version, the most common four-act Don Carlo). Then he restored the first act but cut the ballet (the 1886 Modena version). The result is that there is no single definitive Don Carlos, only a magnificent, sprawling, and gloriously flawed masterpiece.

A New, Dark Sound: The Drama of the Bass

This opera marks a profound shift in Verdi's style. This is not the fiery, hot-blooded, lyrical nationalism of Il trovatore or Nabucco. This is a new, dark, somber, and pessimistic sound. The opera is set in the claustrophobic, oppressive, cold world of 16th-century Spain under the thumb of the Inquisition. The score is defined not by the heroic tenor, but by the low male voices. Don Carlos is the greatest opera ever written for the bass voice. It features two of the most monumental bass roles in the repertoire: the Tsar Filippo II (King Philip II) and The Grand Inquisitor. The opera's true climax is not a love duet; it is the terrifying Act IV confrontation between these two men. It is a duet for two basses, a sonic battle between Church and State, an idea Mussorgsky would mirror in Boris Godunov. This dark, bass-heavy orchestration and brooding psychological depth show Verdi moving away from Italian bel canto and toward the symphonic weight of Richard Wagner, a composer he publicly dismissed but privately studied with intense interest.

The Schiller Influence: Love vs. Duty

Verdi was a lifelong admirer of the German playwright Friedrich Schiller. He had already adapted Schiller for Giovanna d'Arco, I masnadieri, and Luisa Miller. He loved Schiller for his grand, epic, Shakespearian scope, and Don Karlos was his most ambitious subject yet. The play gave Verdi his greatest theme: the love vs. duty conflict. Every character in the opera is trapped. Don Carlos is torn between his forbidden love for his stepmother, Élisabeth, and his political duty to save the Protestant region of Flanders. King Philip is torn between his political power as King and his impotence as a man (he cannot win his wife's love and he is terrified of the Church). The only character who is not conflicted is Rodrigo, the Marquis of Posa. Posa is the opera's true hero, an idealistic, humanist baritone who is willing to sacrifice everyone, including his best friend Don Carlos, for his grand, political ideal of freedom. His death scene in Act IV, O Carlo, ascolta, is one of the most moving baritone arias Verdi ever wrote.

King Philip's Monologue: A Psychological Masterpiece

The summit of the opera, and the beginning of Act IV, is King Philip's great scena, Ella giammai m'amò! (She never loved me!). This is not an aria; it is a profound, internal, psychological monologue. The King, alone at dawn, confronts the truth of his life: he is the most powerful man in the world, yet his young wife does not love him, and he will soon be in his tomb, alone, in his royal robes. The music is dark, somber, and infused with a heartbreaking cello solo. This is Verdi at his most Shakespearian, creating a portrait of power and despair that rivals Mussorgsky's Boris Godunov. This scene of deep, personal anguish flows directly into the terrifying public confrontation with the Grand Inquisitor. The Inquisitor, a 90-year-old, blind man, enters to music that is crushing and dissonant, using the rare contrabassoon to create a sound of absolute, un-human power. The King, who rules the world, is reduced to a quivering subject, forced to sacrifice his only friend, Posa, to the Inquisition.

A Spectacle of Terror: The Auto-da-fé

The centerpiece of Act III is the infamous Auto-da-fé (Act of Faith), the public burning of heretics. This is Verdi delivering the Meyerbeer-ian spectacle that the Paris audience demanded. It is a massive, terrifying scene. A grand, triumphal march and chorus of praise for the King is suddenly interrupted by a dark, funeral march as the heretics are dragged to the stake. This joy/terror contrast is pure Verdi. Don Carlos interrupts the coronation, leading a delegation from Flanders to beg for mercy. The King refuses and orders him arrested. No one will move. Finally, Rodrigo (Posa) steps forward and, in an act of state, disarms his own best friend, saving the King's honor. The scene ends in a blaze of orchestral fire as the stakes are lit, and a voice from heaven proclaims the souls of the heretics are at peace.

A Flawed, Hybrid, Masterpiece

Don Carlos is not an easy opera. It is long, dark, and dramatically complex. It is a hybrid, a French grand opéra that has been hacked and slashed into an Italian tragedy. But its flaws are the flaws of ambition. It is Verdi at his most intellectually daring, the work that links the fiery, melodic genius of La traviata to the profound, Shakespearian depth of Otello and Falstaff. It is a dark journey into a world where there are no true villains and no true heroes, only flawed, suffering human beings, trapped by their own passions and by the implacable forces of church and state.

The Story of the Opera

(Based on the 5-act Italian version)

Act I: The Forest of Fontainebleau

France, 1559. A peace treaty is being negotiated to end the war between Spain and France. The terms: Élisabeth de Valois, daughter of the King of France, must marry Filippo II (King Philip II) of Spain. Don Carlo, the Spanish prince, has traveled to France in disguise to catch a glimpse of his future bride. He meets her in the forest, where she has been lost during a hunt. He pretends to be a simple envoy, but she soon recognizes him as the prince. In a rapturous duet, they fall in love. But their joy is shattered when a cannon shot signals that the peace treaty has been signed. Élisabeth's page confirms that she is now, by treaty, betrothed not to Carlo, but to his father, King Philip. She is forced to accept her duty, leaving Carlo in despair.

Act II: The Monastery of St. Just

In Spain, at the tomb of Emperor Charles V, Don Carlo mourns his lost love. He is met by his best friend, Rodrigo, the Marquis of Posa, a liberal humanist who has just returned from the oppressed region of Flanders. Posa urges Carlo to forget his private love and to dedicate himself to a greater cause: saving Flanders from his father's tyranny. They swear a famous, heroic duet of eternal friendship and liberty (Dio, che nell'alma infondere). Later, in a garden, the fiery Princess Eboli sings the exotic Song of the Veil. She is secretly in love with Carlo. Carlo enters, believing he has a rendezvous with the Queen, and accidentally confesses his love to Eboli. She realizes he loves the Queen, not her, and her love turns to a vow of vengeance. Rodrigo intervenes, but Eboli storms off, now a deadly enemy.

Act III: The Queen's Garden and the Auto-da-fé

Scene 1: The Queen's Garden. The Queen, Élisabeth, wishes to avoid the public Auto-da-fé (Act of Faith). She gives her mask and mantle to Princess Eboli, asking her to go in her place. This sets a trap. Eboli (now disguised as the Queen) is met by Don Carlo, who, thinking she is his love, sings a passionate duet to her. He discovers the ruse just as King Philip and Rodrigo arrive. The King, finding his son with his wife's clothes, is enraged and publicly accuses Élisabeth. Eboli, in a moment of guilt, realizes her jealousy has gone too far. Scene 2: The Cathedral Square. A massive public scene. The people of Spain are gathered for the coronation of the King and the public burning of heretics. Don Carlo interrupts the ceremony, leading a delegation from Flanders, begging his father for mercy for the province. The King refuses and orders him arrested. Carlo draws his sword in defiance. No one will disarm the prince, until Rodrigo (Posa) steps forward. In a stunning political move, Rodrigo takes Carlo's sword, saving the King's honor but shattering Carlo's trust. As the King and court proceed to the cathedral, the heretics are led to the stake, and the fires are lit.

Act IV: The King's Grief and the Prison

Scene 1: The King's Study. At dawn, King Philip, alone, sings his great, despairing monologue, Ella giammai m'amò! (She never loved me!). He is joined by the 90-year-old, blind Grand Inquisitor. Philip, tortured, asks the Inquisitor if he can, in good conscience, execute his own son, Don Carlo. The Inquisitor is merciless: God, he says, sacrificed His son, and the King must do the same. He then, in turn, demands that Philip hand over the greater heretic, Rodrigo, to the Inquisition. Philip refuses. The Inquisitor coldly replies, Then the King himself will be brought before the Tribunal. Philip is crushed. Later, Élisabeth rushes in, demanding justice for a stolen jewel casket. Philip opens it, and inside is a portrait of Don Carlo. He accuses her of adultery. She faints. Rodrigo and Eboli rush in. Left alone, Eboli confesses two terrible sins to the Queen: It was she who stole the casket, and, worse, she herself has been the King's mistress. The Queen banishes her. Eboli, in her final, furious aria, O don fatale (O fatal gift), curses her own beauty and vows to spend her last day of freedom trying to save Don Carlo. Scene 2: Don Carlo's Prison. Rodrigo visits Carlo in prison. He is serene; he has come to say goodbye. He reveals that he has deliberately drawn the Inquisition's suspicion onto himself to save Carlo for the Flemish cause. As he sings his farewell aria, O Carlo, ascolta, a shot rings out from an assassin, and he is mortally wounded. He dies, happy, telling Carlo that Élisabeth will wait for him at the Monastery of St. Just.

Act V: The Monastery

At the tomb of Charles V, Élisabeth prays for guidance in her final, gorgeous aria, Tu che le vanità. Don Carlo arrives for their final farewell. He has renounced his love and is now ready to become the savior of Flanders. As they say goodbye, King Philip and the Grand Inquisitor arrive with soldiers to arrest them both. The Inquisitor demands Carlo be seized. As the soldiers advance, a mysterious Monk (the same one from Act II, who sounds like the dead Charles V) emerges from the tomb. In a voice of supernatural authority, he seizes Don Carlo and drags him into the monastery's cloisters. The Inquisitor and the King are left, terrified, at this supernatural intervention.