Sunday 29 September 2013

Mazes of the Mind - Fidelio, English National Opera, 27th September 2013

I don't go to see opera at ENO very often it has to be said.  This is nothing to do with their tendency to a somewhat more challenging directorial approach than the ROH.  I like to think I'm open-minded and take each production on its own merits.  No, my reluctance is usually to do with the fact that I do prefer my opera in the original language i.e. the language of the original libretto. Italian opera especially tends to sound frankly more than a little strange and grating to the ear when translated into English.  So I tend to avoid the mainstream repertory that I know well and visit ENO for works that I don't know quite so well - or that have a tradition for being translated into English, such as the upcoming Die Fledermaus.

For me Fidelio just about comes under that criteria.  I don't understand German in the way I do Italian/French and I've only seen Fidelio once - and that was on DVD.  I do know Florestan's aria 'Gott! Welch dunkel hier' reasonably well...but more of that later. So a visit to see this was definitely on the agenda.  What tipped the balance for me was ENO's introduction of their Secret Seat scheme, where you pay £20 up front with no idea of where you will be seated until a couple of days before the performance when your seat will be confirmed.  Suitably intrigued and up for a gamble I booked 'secret seats' for Fidelio, Die Fledermaus and Peter Grimes.  Thankfully in the case of Fidelio, the gamble paid off very nicely with a front row seat in the Dress Circle - a ticket normally costing £94!  Not bad.  However looking around the auditorium I couldn't help but notice an abundance of empty seats.  This is a shame and I do hope ENO is not about to go the way of New York City Opera who seem to be on their last legs.


The production by Calixto Bieito is new to ENO, although will be familiar to international opera goers and YouTube fans as it was premièred in Munich in 2010.  I'll say upfront that I haven't watched any of the available clips as none seem to come with English subtitles, and given my unfamiliarity with the work, I do need them.  So, I came to this performance as fresh as I could and with no preconceptions other than knowing the basic outline of the story.

I have to say that I found the standing set (pictured above) stunning.  The picture doesn't really do it justice and I also have to give kudos to the lighting designer Tim Mitchell for making what could have been a stark and ugly set, quite beautiful at times.

Apart from occasionally clambering around the set, the singers were mostly confined in front of the mad-made monolith but they made the most of the restrictions.  I must admit that if I was coming to this completely ignorant of the story, I would probably have no idea what was happening - and to me that is a failure.  I shouldn't need to have to read essays by the director before I watch a piece of theatre - they should be able to convey the story effectively without me having to refer to the programme to see what on earth they are getting at.  There is also much mention of a 'fresh vision' and 'challenging assumptions' which is all very well if you are dealing with people who know the opera inside out and are open to being challenged whilst still understanding the original.  But what if you are dealing with people (like me) who have very little previous knowledge of the opera and are therefore left totally confused by this production.

Ironically I felt that this did work as a piece of theatre, but not as an opera - the two felt quite disconnected.  Let me explain a little.  For me, the ideal opera performance is one where acting and singing combine to produce an almost seamless work - one where you almost don't notice the acting or the singing as separate entities.  In my experience that fusion very rarely happens and the balance nearly always tips to one side or the other - either the music/singing wins out, or the acting/theatrical aspects do.  I have been lucky enough to witness those rare performances where you almost forget that someone is singing, so wrapped up in the drama have I been.  But those are rare exceptions - and this performance came no where close alas.

The most annoying part of the performance came with the arrival of Don Fernando, bizarrely costumed here in full wig and 17/18 Century get up - as opposed to the rest of the cast in current workaday clothes.  Why?  I would almost have preferred the Munich version where he was some sort of Joker figure.  And then of course he goes and shoots Florestan - which I admit came as a bit of a surprise.  The first word of out my mouth was  'b........'  I'll leave you do deduct what that might have been. It just didn't work for me as played here.    I have subsequently looked up the Munich version to see how they played it and frankly it was much better done, the reactions of the singer playing Don Fernando 'sold' the idea - but not in the ENO version I'm afraid.

I'd be interested to know if Bieto directed this revival and approved of the tweaks to the original. Subsequent viewing of clips of the Munich original has revealed some significant differences in addition to the one noted above.

As to the singing, I would say that overall it was of a very high standard given the challenges of some very physical aspects to the production.  Stuart Skelton was impressive as Florestan and his first utterance of 'God, the darkest hour' was in no way inferior to a Certain Other Tenor's outstanding version.  I did feel however, that he tired a little towards the end.  Beethoven's challenging writing no doubt, but also a very hectic schedule alternating Fidelio and Peter Grimes - neither easy sings. But Skelton has a beautiful strong voice and I'm looking forward to his performance in the ENO Peter Grimes in February.

Emma Bell as Fidelio/Leonore was his equal although I found her lower register less reliable and beautiful than her steely top where I felt she came into her own.  Very nicely acted too if not entirely convincing as a bloke.

So, for me a game of two halves.  The music and singing was beautiful but the production failed for me personally in that I didn't get the emotional 'punch' that I'm always looking for in opera.  However, what it has done is made me more eager to experience another production of Fidelio - there are so many interpretations of this story that could be done, both traditional and non-traditional.  I hope I get to see one soon.











2 comments:

  1. I know this production only from seeing the webcast of the Munich version a couple years ago, but my take on the Don Fernando situation is that Bieito is questioning the validity of the "deus ex machina" resolution of the conflict, particularly since the "deus" in question is the representative of a benevolent monarch. What Bieito seems to be asking (I think) is "How can we celebrate the triumph of liberty and courage when that triumph is directly dependent upon the whim of an unelected ruler? Why should be feel relief and joy at a denouement that is essentially the result of blind chance? What if the king Don Fernando represented in fact (as most monarchs of the period did) hated dissidents like Florestan and would be all too happy to see him dead and buried? Would we still be exulting in C major then?"

    In other words, Bieito seems to think that the ending of "Fidelio" dramatically begs the question and he's deliberately forcing the audience to confront what he regards as a comforting lie, i.e., that if we just trust in authority, all will be well.

    I actually think the "Joker" characterization might work better here, in the sense that it emphasizes how Florestan's fate hinges on an absolutely arbitrary whim: he might end up dead, or he might end up alive, and so Bieito shows us both endings, one after the other. Or, depending on how you look at it, he demonstrates that we can't know how the story ends, because of how everything that has gone before (Florestan's endurance, Leonore's bravery) is essentially irrelevant: it all depends on what sort of mood Don Fernando is in that day.

    (Congratulations, by the way, for writing a more cogent and thoughtful review than the majority of the professional critics!)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Many thanks for the comment La Cieca - and for your explanation of the Don Fernando character.

      What I'd taken from the ending was similar in that a happy ending is never as easy as simply being rescued. But I don't think the period dress version of Don Fernando here worked at all - it detracted from what could have been interesting concept and the singer didn't really 'sell' the idea as I've said.

      Thanks for visiting.



      Delete