The work is based on actual correspondence between Emperor Pedro I of Brazil and his lover Domitila de Castro do Canto e Melo, Marchioness of Santos, and on events that took place between 1822 and 1829.

The story’s setting is Domitila’s last day in Río de Janeiro before returning to São Paulo, which would mark the end of her tumultuous romance with the monarch. Through their correspondence, Domitila recounts the most significant moments of their doomed relationship, giving life to a series of characters through a monologue that becomes a polyphony of voices. The soprano who interprets Domitila also voices Pedro, her lover and her emperor, creating an internal dialogue that reflects the complexity of her emotions and the struggle between duty and love.

Dear Titília
Domitila appears in a room in which we see that preparations are underway for a change in residence. Looking through several letters, she pauses at one in which Pedro thanks her for her two preceding letters. He also states that he has informed his father that she is pregnant with his child, and he expresses his desire to be with her again as soon as possible, affectionately addressing her as ‘Dear Titília’. He has signed the letter as ‘The Demon’.

My daughter and friend
The next letter reveals Pedro’s doubts regarding Domitila’s love. Stating that he is ‘a man of vices and virtues, like any other’, the monarch’s intention appears to be that of instilling in Domitila’s mind the idea that he is her lover. He signs the letter ‘Your friend, the Emperor’.

Oh, my love, if you would only forget me!
In an ironic tone, Domitila continues reading the emperor’s flattering words. Afterwards, she begins to dance before a mirror in which she sees herself as the object of his desire, and she awaits the arrival of her lover.

Oh, love of my heart
Reciting a series of promises and flattering expressions, Domitila continues reading and dancing, revelling in the desire the emperor has expressed for her. This time, Pedro signs the letter ‘The Demon’.

My daughter, my friend, signed: Fire, Little Fire.
Domitila quickly looks at several letters at once and expresses her reactions: ‘Signed: Fire, Little Fire’; ‘Signed: the Emperor’; ‘Titília, dearest, love’; and, finally, ‘Signed: Pedro’. All of them form the nuances of the canvas on which Domitila’s emotions gradually take shape.

Tell me how many lines.
Now, Domitila speaks for herself, expressing her feelings about her relationship with Pedro I. In the main section ‘Liricos Trópicos’, Domitila sarcastically and critically observes that the Emperor of Brazil is, in essence, a foreigner. She then scorns Pedro for having yielded to the pressure of the courts of Portugal and Brazil to marry Amélie of Leuchtenberg.

Interlude
In clear contrast with the violence of the preceding music, the interlude establishes the dreamlike atmosphere of the next scene.

My daughter, many of your letters that I have received have shocked me.
Domitila continues reading the letters, now in a disorderly manner, as a series of strong emotions wash over her, particularly ire. The emperor tries to make her see that his love for her is not a passing fancy. It is a dream of madness that will abruptly come to an end to lead into the next number.

Nocturne: Lundu
In the wake of the frenzied pitch of the preceding number, Domitila lets the piano accompany her with a nocturne while she continues reading the letters in silence.

Distance, longing
A modinha (Brazilian sentimental love song) is heard as another of Pedro’s letters is read. With it, the last farewell begins to manifest itself, with references to the political reasons for which their intimate relationship is unadvisable. The first words ‘Lies, promises I never believed’ are confirmed by Pedro’s final words, which suggest an inevitable separation: ‘I shall always defend your honour and I shall always have with you a legitimate and sincere friendship. Signed, the Emperor’.

My dear Marchioness
Domitila reads the emperor’s words, which convey his intention that she move to another province of the empire, a sine qua non to carry through his marriage to Amélie of Leuchtenberg. In a fit of rage, she continues reading in a mocking tone, Pedro’s solemn words, which take on an increasingly threatening tone and provoke the shouting and madness of the betrayed and humiliated Domitila.

If the Marchioness should decide to return
Pedro’s final letter confirms his intentions in the coldest possible terms by assuring Domitila that she must not return and that he will marry a princess fit for an emperor.

My Lord, I shall leave early this morning.
In the final aria, Domitila reads the only remaining letter from her correspondence with Pedro. She informs him of her decision to leave under his wishes. In the aftermath of her suffering and with solemnity and sincerity, she mercifully gives thanks for her liberation and prays to God for his prosperity.

Domitila, an opera by correspondence

The alleged romance between King Pedro I of Brazil and IV of Portugal (1798-1834) and Domitila de Castro do Canto e Melo, Marchioness of Santos (1797-1867), shocked the royal court of Brazil. It was the subject of controversy in Europe and was a political problem in Brazil and Portugal. They met in São Paulo shortly before the declaration of Brazil’s independence in 1822, having been introduced by Domitila’s sister María Benedita de Castro, who was also among the emperor’s many lovers. After the death of Empress Consort Leopoldina in 1826, the relationship was disclosed to the public and continued for another three years until Amélie of Leuchtenberg (1812-1863) refused to marry the widowed emperor until he had ended the relationship, insisting on her banishment to Río de Janeiro, as well.

Their relationship was recorded for posterity in the intense exchange of letters between the two. The contents of the correspondence are varied and reflect the complexity of the situation, which was further complicated by the watchful eye of a court that was permissive in appearance but conservative in its decisions. Most of the surviving letters were written by Pedro I and kept by Domitila. Most of those written and sent by her were lost or destroyed after the monarch’s death. The first collection was published in 1896 after the death of Domitila. In 1984, Nova Fronteira published the book “Cartas de Pedro I à Marquesa de Santos”, which I consulted during the writing of the libretto.

The story told in ‘Domitila’ may be described as the main character’s inner journey towards the focus of her passion. She embarks on this journey on the very day of her departure, upon rediscovering the letters and notes in a bundle amid her belongings and lying scattered upon the floor. I have rearranged the letters for heightened dramatic effect rather than leaving them in chronological order, and I have created texts for the recitatives. The first letters flow freely and gayly, with abundant humour and mischievousness. Pedro playfully signs them ‘Fire, little fire’ and ‘the Grand Demon’ but also expresses his jealousy, as observed in his second letter: ‘Could it be that you are fonder of someone else than I?’

Domitila had unrestricted access to the Palace of Saint Christopher due to her status as Lady-in-waiting of Empress Maria Leopoldina and the title of Marchioness conferred by Pedro I. She lived in a nearby mansion that currently houses the Fashion Museum – Casa da Marquesa de Santos. The fourth part of the libretto, E logo destinei à imperatriz e à mercê, [And then I destined it for the empress and you], contains references to the more intimate side of life within the palace and a woman known as Joana, who was probably another lady-in-waiting. Pedro and Domitila had five illegitimate children, including Isabel Maria de Alcântara, born in 1824 and known as ‘la Belinha’, who is also mentioned in the same letter. Pedro, I eventually recognised her as his daughter and granted her the noble title of Duchess of Goiás in 1826.

Domitila reacts to the slightest change in her lover’s tone when she reads/sings with stupor his letters and notes, but she remains overwhelmed by his words, as if the paragraphs were ropes that imprison her. With this image in mind, I wrote the text of the main aria, which begins with the verses: ‘Tell me how many lines entangled you before my revelation. Oddly, your absence in me lights the stars, although I have already lost the night’.

I must suppose that Domitila sent Pedro a letter or a note in which she questioned the true extent of his love. The eighth letter, ‘Amores pasajeros’ (Passing loves), shows a reaction of the apparent annoyance of the lover: ‘Many of your letters that I have received have shocked me due to the lack of reflection upon writing them, but none more so than that which I have received today, in which you say that the love we feel for each other is ephemeral’. Her intuition would prove to be accurate, as, from this point onwards in the story, Pedro’s letters suggest a certain distance that has grown between them. Even after the death of Leopoldina in 1826, the emperor could not seek the company of a commoner with the court’s blessing. The courts of Brazil and Portugal pressured him to end the relationship and marry anew. Pedro asks Domitila to leave Río de Janeiro quickly, to abandon the capital and the empire, and to take up residence in the province of São Paulo. The ninth letter presages the imminent outcome. In a state of desperation, Domitila loves, hates and reacts to her abandonment.

This goes on until the arrival of Pedro’s last letter, the tenth, in which he threatens her with consequences if she insists on remaining disobedient. The eleventh letter (My Lord, I shall leave early this morn) is the only one appearing in the opera that she wrote. She abandons hope and writes to bid him farewell. She addresses him formally as ‘Your Majesty’, she signs the letter ‘Your subject, Marchioness of Santos’, and she leaves!

When I composed the score, I tried to create a symbiotic relationship between the music and words that ultimately do not fit within any poetic metre. The soloist’s tessitura is modelled after that of the soprano Ruth Staerke, who interpreted the role in 2000 and to whom the work is dedicated. I have used African-based Brazilian rhythms such as the maxixe and the lundu, combining them with styles of European music such as the trio sonata or the aria to evoke the cultural blending that took place in Brazil in the 18^th and 19^th centuries. The short fourth letter (Oh, love of my heart) is sung as a choro, a style of popular Brazilian music that actually would not be heard on the streets of Río de Janeiro until the early 20^th century. Nonetheless, the letter’s playful tone and the presence of a clarinet in the instrumental trio led me to disregard the historical timeline for the sake of artistic expression. The lundu, which was extant at the time of the story’s setting, is observed in the piano interlude, which is heard in the transition from the eighth to the ninth letter. The harmonic language is eclectic. As in all my operas, I have used different techniques to enhance the telling of the story. Tonal passages prevail, although I have also made use of serial atonalism in the passages with the greatest tension, such as in the tenth letter, ‘The advice I gave you was not lacking in sensibility’.

Domitila is the result of a commission of Banco do Brasil Cultural Centre in Rio de Janeiro granted in 2000 for the cycle of concerts ‘Brazilian Words’, which was among the activities commemorating the Columbus Quincentenary. Five composers were commissioned to create new cycles of songs based on the texts of documents considered to be of historical significance concerning Brazil. I was assigned the correspondence between Pedro I and the Marchioness of Santos and was given the decision to turn the material into the story of a monodrama. The instrumental accompaniment is performed by a trio consisting of clarinet, cello and piano. Shortly after its premiere in Río, Domitila was performed at the São Pedro Theatre in São Paulo, for which it was awarded as the best chamber work by Associação Paulista dos Críticos de Arte. Subsequently, the opera has been interpreted in many venues, including the Imperial Museum in Petrópolis, built by Emperor Pedro II.

In addition to what the score may have contributed, there are other reasons why “Domitila” has become one of my most successful works so quickly: the magnificent performance of the soprano, the instrumentation, its duration and the fact that it may be readily adapted to the concert format. As an opera, it has toured in Brazil. It has been performed in the United States, Italy and Portugal, where Carla Caramujo and Toy Ensemble recorded it for the label Movimento Patrimonial pela Música Portuguesa (MPMP).

In 2022, I composed a symphonic version of this work for the Cultural Centre of Belém in Lisbon, where it premiered as part of the activities celebrating the bicentennial of the independence of Brazil.

Whenever ‘Domitila’ is performed in Brazil, I cannot help but consider the subtle irony it represents. It is as if the main character, who was forced to leave Río de Janeiro 200 years ago, reappeared as an opera in the land where Pedro I was born and died, singing about the deep love they felt for each other.

The invitation of Miguel Ángel Marín and Isamay Benavente gives me the immense satisfaction of seeing ‘Domitila’ onstage in Madrid, thanks to the coproduction of the Juan March Foundation and the Zarzuela Theatre. Portuguese soprano Ana Quintans interprets the Marchioness of Santos, with the stage direction of Nicola Beller Carbone and the musical direction and piano of Borja Mariño, with whom I worked in 2014 in the production of my opera ‘Onheama’ at the Amazonas Theatre.

I would like to express my deepest gratitude to Concha Gallego and Juan Ángel Vela del Campo for their long-standing enthusiasm, support and friendship.

João Guilherme Ripper