It seems wrong to categorise Beethoven under "Other Composers" but despite being arguably the greatest composer of all time, Ludwig only wrote the one opera, Fidelio.
On Thursday night I found myself at the Barbican for a concert performance of this: the massed ranks of the splendid London Symphony Orchestra and the possibly even more splendid London Symphony Chorus under the baton of the incomparable Sir Colin Davis.
On paper the soloists were not especially 'draws' and in an unrelenting diary I did question my judgement in having booked this, albeit a mid-price ticket.
But I was glad that I did. I am not as familiar with this opera as I ought to be. I saw it live staged many moons ago, by Opera North in Nottingham, and although I have it on my mp3 player, I feel I have listened to it on shuffle far more often than I have ever played the CD set from start to finish.
As soon as the band launched into the overture I had a feeling it was going to be a good night. Opening salvos from Marzelline (Sally Matthews) and Jaquino (Andrew Kennedy) only served to confirm that hunch. Sally's voice did not seem huge and struggled to be heard over the orchestra (an occupational hazard of concert opera when the orchestra are expose don stage rather than concealed in the pit) but it was a voice I could get to like a lot. I am still undecided about Andrew Kennedy - his strengths are noteworthy but I find him less than the finished article.
Part of my reason for booking was Christine Brewer. So many people rave about her but my previous experiences with her have left me unimpressed. This night was a different matter. That is some voice! And a voice I would pay good money to hear again, and again. My reservations are that I find her demeanour when not singing to be off-putting, and I am not sure how this translate into acting, and I did notice some signs of tiring, although this is no insignificant role.
Kristinn Sigmundsson, a late replacement as Rocco, was also pleasing to the ear. John Mac Master was Florestan. I do not think that he will ever rate amongst my favourite tenors and his voice does not hit my 'T'-spot, yet I found his performance to be satisfying, and that he got over well the torment of being held on starvation rations in solitary confinement both vocally and in body-language and facial expression. I found the remaining roles: Juha Uusitalo as Don Pizarro; Daniel Borowski as Don Fernando; and Andrew Tortise and Darren Jeffery as the Prisoners to be at least adequate.
But for me the stars were the London Symphony Chorus, who sang as well as I have heard them this season (and my previous outings - Gerontius and Beethoven 9 were laden with praise). One of the reviews I read suggested that the opera was well-served by being concert-only, because it allowed one to luxuriate in the glories of the orchestration and the orchestra playing. Which isn't wrong, except that...opera was intended to be staged.
The Prisoners Chorus is one of the great choruses of operas; and it gave me goosepimples. At the precise moment they exclaimed Freiheit, the hairs on my arm stood. Although my German is non-existent, Freiheit is one of those words that needs no surtitle, but I think the physical reaction was as much to the music, and I conclude that that was the work of sheer genius to make the music have that effect at that point. And the overwhelming message of Freedom, victory against oppression, triumph of the will and the determination of the human character is not a message to be taken lightly.
I felt the spoken dialogue was the weak link, but I'm not sure what the solution is. For a start, this is how it was written, so to meddle with it would be contrary to the composers intentions. My German is next to non-existent, so I do not gain anything from having the declamations in a language I don't understand. To have them in English would be perverse when the characters are singing in German, to sing it in English would be a mistake (notwithstanding my enjoyment of Opera North's 'in English' production - this was despite the translation).
An overwhelmingly youngish audience applauded loudly, even raucously, and it would be fair to say that the applause was richly deserved.
And in the interval, I met up with Raffe who had also survived and recovered from her Floral Street soaking.
Colin Davis's concert performance of Beethoven's Fidelio turned this operatic ode to freedom into a shattering celebration of the human spirit, and a revelation of the visionary qualities of this astonishing score.
I think they were all at the Tuesday performance, so their mileage may differ from mine.
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