Fidelio

Beethoven struggled with his only opera, Fidelio, for more than a decade, composing, rearranging, and composing anew until, in 1814, he declared that the opera would earn him a ‘martyr’s crown’. This tale of Leonore, who infiltrated a Spanish prison disguised as a man to liberate her husband, Florestan, allowed the composer to express his deepest thoughts on justice and freedom. In 1814–15, Fidelio enjoyed twenty-one performances during the Congress of Vienna, when, in the wake of Napoleon’s defeat, it could be argued that it enabled Beethoven to communicate his hope for a new order under an enlightened monarchy. Yet it entered the operatic repertory only after its 1822 revival in Vienna, when its message aligned with the political concerns of German nationalists and liberals, in their opposition to oppressive censorship laws and the brutal suppression of popular uprisings across Europe. It also became a star vehicle for the young Wilhelmine Schröder-Devrient, who won audiences across Europe for her dramatically charged interpretation of the loving, faithful wife who also acts as liberating hero. Melbourne Opera indicates its commitment to the opera’s two great themes by adding ‘Love. Justice. Freedom.’ to the title, but this production of Fidelio, directed by Hugh Halliday and conducted by Anthony Negus, shines a spotlight on Beethoven’s music, even more than the opera’s political message. The hybrid structure juxtaposes light scenes approaching comic opera style with long, reflective numbers, and a dramatically static, cantata-like finale (added in 1814), in which Beethoven, as in the choral finale of the Ninth Symphony, sets forth his ideals. The Prisoner's Chorus in Fidelio (photograph by Robin Halls) Beethoven demands our attention from the outset, with an overture both dramatic and lyrical, and Maestro Negus drew a performance of admirable clarity and precision from the Melbourne Opera orchestra. His choice of brisk tempi lent the whole opera considerable energy, although ensemble with the singers occasionally suffered. On opening night, it was as if Negus had used tempo to maintain dramatic momentum and to alleviate some of the possible longueurs inherent in the composition itself. Given the surfeit of music in Fidelio, the inclusion of Beethoven’s Leonore Overture No. 3 before the finale of Act II was puzzling, as it effectively recapitulates the preceding drama in fifteen minutes of absolute music in the middle of an act already musically rather than dramatically driven. One can’t deny the Overture’s beauty, but it seemed under-rehearsed on opening night, compared with the orchestra’s strong performance of the rest of the opera. Fidelio is punctuated by spoken dialogue, and Melbourne Opera chose to stage the whole work in German. Despite evidence of careful preparation, this lent a certain awkwardness to the acting in the fast-paced, at times comedic dialogues of Act I, and the diction in the sung German was inconsistent. The dubious poetic qualities of the German libretto should relieve any qualms about translation, and Beethoven’s complex ensembles may have been more convincing if performed in English. In the ‘harmless human love-tangle’ (pace Donald Tovey) of the opera’s opening scene, the casting of young singers Rebecca Rashleigh and Louis Hurley as Marzelline and Jaquino lent energy and just the right touch of adolescent awkwardness to their misunderstandings, and they rewarded the audience with vocally and dramatically engaging performances. Once Rocco (Marzelline’s father, the prison warden) and Fidelio (Leonore, disguised as his assistant) entered, the action continued at a cracking pace, but it became harder to accept the essential premise of the love triangle in the setting of an anonymous modern office, with the cast in nondescript everyday dress. The banality of this farce was swept aside by the justly celebrated Canon quartet, in which each of the four characters shone vocally as they retreated into self-absorbed reflection, their imitative vocal lines answered by the orchestra, enhanced by a lighting design that spotlit each character individually. Act I closes with a complex scena, which finally enunciates the great theme at the opera’s heart: the hope for liberty and justice. In a wholehearted portrayal of the suffering, ragged, light-starved prisoners, the men of the Melbourne Opera chorus sang with their usual commitment. Some of Beethoven’s most successful dramatic writing frames the injunction to ‘speak softly’ as they are ‘watched with ears and eyes’, a passage in which more pronounced dynamic contrasts could have further highlighted the oppressive sense of constant surveillance. Bradley Daley and Kirstin Sharpin in Fidelio (photograph by Robin Halls) We are plunged into the depths of the dungeon in Act II, and this is where Bradley Daley (whom we heard as Siegmund in the 2016 Melbourne Ring cycle) soared as the exhausted, half-starved Florestan. He rose to the necessary paradox of a character near total physical collapse singing at the height of his vocal powers, and he unleashed his full expressive range when singing the great duet with Kirstin Sharpin. After navigating the awkward trouser role of Fidelio, Sharpin joined Daley in revealing the full glory of her rich voice with her transformation into Leonore. Warwick Fyfe was a commanding vocal presence as the prison governor Pizarro. His incarnation of the dastardly villain, already strongly marked in Beethoven’s music, became almost parodic with a physical performance that embodied the twisted evil of this malefactor, acknowledged by the friendly booing mixed with applause that greeted Fyfe’s curtain call. This was in sharp contrast with the natural acting and vocal ease of Adrian Tamburini as Rocco, who encompassed with grace the varying demands of the role, from comic opera paterfamilias to earnest liberator of the imprisoned. The final tableau was both effective and moving: warm lighting diffused the despairing gloom of the Act II dungeon, and the gathering townspeople held photos of their ‘disappeared’ loved ones behind the high fence. As the benevolent minister Don Fernando, Roger Howell brought warmth and gravitas to the role, joined by the full Melbourne Opera Chorus singing with their customary verve. This was a momentous contribution to the 2020 Beethoven celebrations from a dynamic company that operates without public funding. We owe Melbourne Opera a debt of gratitude for giving Melbourne (and Bendigo) audiences the rare opportunity to hear and see Fidelio. Fidelio is being performed by Melbourne Opera at the Athenaeum Theatre on February 8, 11, and 13, and then at the Ulumbarra Theatre, Bendigo, on February 23. Performance attended: 5 February 2020.

Fidelio

Fidelio

Elizabeth Kertesz

Elizabeth Kertesz

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