San Francisco Opera 2021-22 Evaluate: Fidelio

(Photo credit: Cory Weaver / San Francisco Opera)

The talisman of Beethoven’s “Fidelio” is “freedom”. Although “Fidelio” is Beethoven’s only opera, it was not his only “cri de coeur” for freedom, as the conclusion of his Ninth Symphony showed.

The San Francisco Opera production delivered that message to the world today. “Freedom” equals freedom. “Freedom” means independence, both personally and politically. And “freedom” is synonymous with the struggle for justice. None of this could be missing in the production of SFO. As the curtain fell, not only did we walk away with what one of my companions described as “a very San Francisco performance,” but we half-expected to hear the “Ode to Joy” in the chorus.

The focus of the production by American director Matthew Ozawa is the message of freedom and the ease with which it can be lost. The stage-sized prison made of steel, the modern government prison and the masterful use of audiovisual effects create a socially gloomy and corrupt atmosphere in every respect.

liberator

Beethoven’s revolutionary opera symbolizes the human pursuit of redressing injustice, and all aspects of the staging aim to illustrate this. The focal point of the plot is the heroic act of a woman, Leonore / Fidelio, to free her husband Florestan from unjust imprisonment.

The Ozawa area looks beyond Florestan and highlights the myriads of other wrongfully detained people. In addition, the staging and the opera itself put the perfect opera competition between good and evil, love and hate, and darkness and light in the foreground.

The soprano Elza van den Heever sang the heroine Leonore / Fidelio and ensured her long-awaited return to San Francisco. Van den Heever sang with fervor and brilliance, her voice being tender and full of longing in early scenes. When she takes off her disguise in the second act and turns out to be Leonore, her voice was full of passion and heroism.

In the first act, Van den Heever assumes the identity of the security guard Fidelio, a sturdy, hard-working man who fends off the advances of Marzelline sung by Anne-Marie MacIntosh. Marzelline, meanwhile, has to keep prison guard Rocco’s assistant, Jaquino, (played by Christopher Oglesby) at bay while he asks for her hand in the marriage. The irony works well to anticipate the differing love that is reflected in Florestan and Leonore, which is self-sacrificing, deeply kind, and generous – a far cry from office flirtation. It is their love that takes center stage in the end.

In the second act, Van den Heevers’ vocal and physical energy shot up. She embodied Leonore’s determination to save Florestan in her deeds and the power of her voice, sinuous and rich, as she sang of her courage to do everything possible to free her beloved. When she drops the Fidelio disguise, she frees herself and Florestan from all layers of captivity and rejects separation, injustice and false accusations.

The tenor Russell Thomas portrayed Florestan, the incarcerated political dissident and Leonor’s husband, with strength and power. Thomas has received great applause for his Florestan, other critics praise his clarion tenor sound and how he gives everything to present a man “in extremis”. Here we witnessed the same passion.

Chained with hands and feet to a chair in the bowels of the detention center, he emerges from the darkness with the mighty cry of “God (God)”, which maintains the tone with glowing strength. That alone was worth the effort. Thomas continued the aria with exquisite consistency and beauty, cutting like a sharp sword through the darkness. Florestan’s unique human scream was for himself and all of the prisoners in the surrounding cells. When Leonore / Fidelio saves Florestan, she also saves the others.

Thomas sang Florestan’s “Welch Dunkel hier” with the appropriate pianissimo, although it seemed a little more muffled than a soft ending. The rest of the aria also seemed too lazy, though thoughtful. Some of this no doubt came from being chained to the chair, preventing him from moving or being able to express himself fully.

Dream project

The moments of appreciation between man and woman were the most moving moment of the two acts. While Florestan takes longer to recognize his wife than it seems believable, everything fits together. This recognition goes hand in hand with a social and moral order. Harmony and peace dissolve persecution, punishment, brutality and injustice. The duet of Florestan and Leonore is restored on many levels as chains are removed, physical exercise is allowed and their love is regenerated.

Call it romantic, call it revolution; it was the source of so much power. Every act that led to imprisonment and necking had to be analyzed and eliminated. Bass-baritone Greer Grimsley’s Don Pizzaro looks sleek and lithe when he arrives on the balcony to sing of his tyrannical corruption with pride and irony, but that will soon be dismantled.

Bass James Creswell, who portrayed Rocco, the facility’s manager, was united by his humanity, changing emotions, detailed movements and rich variety of sounds, especially in the quartet in the first act.

Bassist Soloman Howard sang with finesse and fine sound. His mere presence as Prime Minister Don Fernando intensified the social change that took place in the penultimate moments of the act.

The conductor Eun Sun Kim, the new musical director of the San Francisco Opera, spoke of “Fidelio” as a “dream project” to start her artistic direction. Kim said she expected “Fidelio” to bring more audiences to the opera house for a cathartic experience together. With brisk energy, she took the podium, raised her baton, and stormed forward. The dynamics of the overture, however, seemed uneven, and the overture’s pulse was sometimes delayed, blurring the sharpness.

The tempo became more even in the first act, with the sounds becoming fluid and varied, moving from semi-pastoral to bright and martial. The trumpets behind the scenes indeed came from afar, and Kim made her unmistakable stamp on this wondrous call to arms.

Kim aimed for orchestral inclusivity most of the time, not emphasizing one section above the other, while making sure that each grouping was distinguishable from the others. This was appropriate in view of the theme of unity that Beethoven was striving for. However, this did not mean that Kim balanced power within the score. The orchestra sounded limp, sluggish, and too unpredictable. Kim’s goal of uniting seemed to be disintegrating, but as she led the band to the finals, I felt the unity they wanted. Until then, she used volume instead of passion to communicate the energy.

The choir played with its usual grace and melodic attention, especially in the first act. The emphasis was on restraint, apathy, and despair. Psychologically, this felt appropriate, but more fighting and conflict in facial expression and movement could have emphasized her emotional struggles more. We saw neither pure Greek choir nor ordinary people in contemporary society, even though the intellectual attraction was there. I understood, if not felt, the universal message.

A visually arresting rotating prison

Ozawa uses a reconfigured version of Alexander V. Nichols’ set that was created for a production of the opera for the composer’s 250th birthday in 2020. The panel features a rotating cell cube, interrogation rooms and offices, and projected video surveillance feeds that focus on the inmates’ cells. Big Brother is definitely watching.

The most recent Serebrennikov production of “Parsifal” in Vienna had a comparable set that took the audience to prison and created a feeling of tightness as they explored their inner intensity.

In last month’s performance of Janáček “Jenůfa” at the Royal Opera House, the second act also takes place in a quasi-cellular structure. In this show, the audience also experiences physical imprisonment, though not as literally as in the SFO detention center. Overall, Nichols’ set design provides an excellent opportunity to convey literal, metaphorical, and psychological constraints.

But as eye-catching as the Ozawa / Nichols set is, its frequent shifts from one area to another sometimes distracted attention from the inner landscape and its complementary explorations. Instead of feeling the prisoners’ fear, I asked myself, “Whose cell is this? What is the prisoner’s story? “

As with the set, the skilfully designed costumes by Jessica Jahn drew attention and caused confusion. Did people wear yellow, just like those in street clothes? Were they both metaphorical and literal determinants?

The extraordinary lighting by JAX Messenger and Justin A. Partier also accentuated the conspiracy, but at times seemed to put technological know-how first. There were lots of ingenious flashes, slides, and graphics, but how much did we need?

The most impressive of the visuals was the wonderful opening projection with the black and white headshot of Leonore, who transforms from woman to man and back to heroine, and also emphasized and reinforced the topic of gender liberation, which is also part of the production.

All came alive during the finale when Florestan and Leonore reunited. THE moment had come. Singing became the order of the day and the lack of passion reappeared. The orchestra was fully embodied. It was like everyone had been waiting for it throughout the performance.

The dream of a future of order, friendliness, loyalty and love was the focus of SFO’s “Fidelio”. This was Beethoven’s dream, and the production gave more than just a glimpse into that vision. It gave us moments to look to the future with ambition. It provides a roadmap for what liberation could actually be.

Hooray to SFO, Eun Sun Kim, Matthew Ozawa and the good singers who reconciled this dream of today’s world with history and dreams of the future.