Fidelio (1804-5, rev. 1814)

Music by Ludwig van Beethoven
Libretto by Joseph Sonnleithner and Georg Friedrich Treitschke, after Jean-Nicolas Bouilly
Sung in German with English surtitles

Leonore, disguised as Fidelio – Sally Matthews (soprano), Florestan, her imprisoned husband – Robert Murray (tenor), Don Pizzarro, prison governor – Musa Ngqungwana (bass-baritone), Rocco, gaoler – Jonathan Lemalu (bass-baritone), Marzelline, his daughter – Isabelle Peters (soprano), Jacquino, prison warder – Oliver Johnston (tenor), Don Fernando, king’s minister – Richard Burkhard (baritone), First Prisoner – Alfred Mitchell (tenor), Second Prisoner – Wonsick Oh (bass)

John Cox (original director), Jamie Manton (revival director), Gary McCann (designer), Ben Pickersgill (lighting)

Garsington Opera Chorus, The English Concert / Douglas Boyd

Garsington Opera, Wormsley
Friday 27 June 2025

review by Richard Whitehouse Photos by (c) Julian Guidera

Few operas have been subject to matters of time and place as has Fidelio. Beethoven’s sole opera, by his own admission, caused him the greatest difficulty among all his works to ‘get right’ and, even today, it can all too easily emerge as a compromise between what had been intended and what (conceptually at least) was feasible. All credit, then, to Garsington Opera for this revival which not only avoided the likely pitfalls first time around but has improved with age – in short, a production that amply conveys the essence of this flawed masterpiece.

That original staging had been directed by John Cox, whose productions are rarely less than durable and with such as his 1973 Capriccio or his 1975 The Rake’s Progress being close to definitive. For this second revival, Jamie Manton has streamlined the basic concept such that everything which takes place can be envisaged from the outset and hence ensures consistency across the production as a whole. He is abetted by Gary McCann’s designs, their monochrome stylings imparting a grim uniformity which could not be more fitting given that this drama is played out around and inside a prison. In particular, the hole front-of-stage from out of which the prisoners emerge and into which Florestan is to be committed is a device made elemental merely by its presence, while the final scene avoids the agitprop from an earlier era in favour of a straightforward tying-up of narrative loose-ends the more affecting for its understatement. Effective without being intrusive, Ben Pickersgill’s lighting enhances the changing moods of an opera which takes in domestic comedy and visceral drama prior to its heroic denouement.

Vocally the opening night was a little uneven without there any real disappointments. If Sally Matthews initially sounded a little inhibited in the title-role, this most probably reflected its ambivalent nature rather than any lack of expressive focus; certainly, her commitment in the ‘Abscheulicher…Komm Hoffnung’ aria such as defines her emotional persona was absolute, as was her seizing hold of that climactic quartet to which the entire drama has been heading. Sounding as well as looking his part, Robert Murray avoided the rhetorical overkill that too often mars portrayals of Florestan – his mingled vulnerability and fatalism maintained right through to the duet ‘O namenlose Freude’ whose eliding of elation and doubt intensified its emotive force whatever its actual length, though without pre-empting what is still to come.

As Don Pizarro, Musa Ngqungwana was imposing in presence and thoughtful in approach – his lack of histrionics preferable in a role which too often descends into caricature. That said, he was upstaged in their duet ‘Jetzt, Alter, jetzt hat es Eile!’ by Jonathan Lemalu who was in his element as Rocco; materialist aspiration outweighed by the humanity invested into a role where comedy rapidly gives way to pathos. Marzelline and Jaquino may have but little to do after the first scene, but Isabelle Peters was eloquence itself in her aria ‘O war ich schon mit dir vereint’ while Oliver Johnston veered engagingly between eagerness and consternation. Richard Burkhard made for an authoritative if never portentous Don Fernando, while Alfred Mitchell and Wonsick Oh afforded touching cameos during a memorable ‘Prisoners’ chorus’.

Nor was the Garsington Opera Chorus to be found wanting as a whole in its contribution to the finales of each act – the first as moving in its pallor, infused with radiance, as the second was in the unfettered joyousness which offset any risk of that final scene becoming merely a celebratory tableau. The English Concert sounded rarely less then characterful, even though humid conditions likely explained some occasionally approximate intonation – happily not in Rachel Chaplin’s scintillating oboe obligato which shadows Florestan’s aria ‘In des Lebens Frühlingstagen’ as if an extension of his character. Douglas Boyd directed with assurance an opera with which he has long been familiar, his tempos unexceptionally right and always at the service of the opera. The author Michael Oliver was surely correct in his observation that the Leonore original is superior in theatrical terms to the Fidelio revision, yet this latter was nothing if not cohesive through Boyd’s astute dovetailing of individual numbers, as between speech and music, so that any seeming discontinuities were made more apparent than real.

Some 211 years after the successful launch of its final version and Fidelio remains an opera acutely sensitive to political context and polemical intent. Beethoven himself was, of course, partly responsible for this but subsequent generations have sought, often recklessly, to foist their own preoccupations onto his music so as to distort or even negate its essence. There was no risk of that happening here thanks to the balanced objectivity of this production but also to its conviction that the composer’s guiding vision is, and always will be, its own justification.

Fidelio runs until 22 July 2025 – and for further information and performances, visit the Garsington Opera website

Published post no.2,581 – Monday 30 June 2025