Fidelio
Garsington
Parthenogenesis
Linbury
Beethoven’s Fidelio is one of the most moving operas in the repertoire, but I’ve usually been more moved by it in concert than on stage. The gaucheries of its plot, which include, really, hardly having any plot — we encounter, after the relatively light opening, the embodiment of noble feminine determination, then the embodiment of powerful male malevolence, and in Act II when one confronts the other the result is instant victory for the Good, thanks to the convenient intervention of an oft-invoked Providence. It is hard to credit as drama, much more evidently convincing as a cantata of celebration, in which the intensely affecting main message stands out against the quotidian bickerings. There is, admittedly, the interesting figure of the gaoler Rocco, the good-hearted elderly man who knows that you can’t get far without money, and who refuses to murder an innocent man but agrees to dig his grave, for a price.
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