Tobias Kratzer’s interventionist staging of Beethoven’s opera proves thought-provoking
In his programme synopsis for Beethoven’s only opera, director Tobias Kratzer emphasises that the work falls into two halves. In his staging, the first act plays relatively traditionally, though we are in France, not Spain, and during the period of the French Revolution rather than the late 17th century suggested by the composer’s librettists – presumably to disguise how dangerously contemporary the piece was in 1805, and for that matter still is.
Kratzer points up its modern relevance by placing the second act in front of a large, seated group of today’s audience members, played by the Royal Opera Chorus, often captured in individual video close-ups. By wider implication, they are also the largely passive spectators of the world’s many current injustices. Here, they watch with concern the dungeon scene in which Leonore’s single-minded bravery saves the life of her political prisoner husband, Florestan. In the final scene of universal rejoicing at the triumph of good and the defeat of evil, their role is more active.
Overall, Kratzer takes a far more interventionist approach to the piece than Covent Garden audiences are used to. He even rewrites the spoken dialogue, inserting sections from writers a generation or two younger than Beethoven. Both sophisticated and thought-provoking, the result can equally be disconcerting.
Continues...
Jennifer Davis encompasses the heroism of Leonore, a woman who cross-dresses in order to enter the prison where her husband is being starved to death and is on the point of being murdered. Throughout, the expressive power of her soprano triumphs in what is a world-beating realisation of Beethoven’s sometimes awkward vocal writing. Tenor Eric Cutler comes close to matching her as gaoled whistle-blower Florestan. Similarly, head prison warden Rocco’s pragmatic skill in changing sides is finely charted in Peter Rose’s immaculately vocalised interpretation.
The prison’s military governor Don Pizarro’s sense of self-preservation registers strongly in Jochen Schmeckenbecher’s performance, roughly sung though it is. Christina Gansch’s Marzelline and Michael Gibson’s Jaquino, meanwhile, create far more complex individuals than the mismatched comic-opera couple of tradition. Gansch’s Marzelline is more dynamic than usual, not only becoming aware of Leonore’s true gender early on, but also subsequently playing an active part in Pizarro’s downfall. Gibson’s increasingly sinister Jaquino even has the last visual word, suggesting that he, at least, has understood how he might profit from the moral ambivalence of the revolution and its aftermath. Both singers are vocally excellent, though Phillip Rhodes’ deus ex machina state minister Don Fernando feels somewhat less even.
The orchestra is on strong form, with conductor Alexander Soddy providing forward drive, even if his interpretation falls short of the inspirational quality required by the high points of Beethoven’s idealistic score.
Invest in The Stage today with a subscription starting at just £7.99