Beethoven composed some of the greatest, best-loved music in the Western canon. His 3rd, 5th, 6th, 7th and 9th symphonies are massively popular masterpieces.
Ditto some of his piano music, notably: concertos nos 5 (Emperor), and 3, as well as the exquisite Pathetique, Moonlight, and Appassionata sonatas.
Beethoven’s sole opera, Fidelio, has its supporters, so I approached the current London (Royal Opera House) production with high hopes.
They were dashed. Despite a delightful overture and much fine singing and acting, especially by the statuesque Finnish soprano Karita Mattila in the title role, this Fidelio was tosh.
Written in the glow of the French Revolution, it has a suitably epic backcloth – the freedom of the individual, fighting back against tyrants of the old order. But the messages are ladled on far too thickly to be anything other than risible. It lacks dramatic tension. The characters are cardboard. The plot meanders. And the direction of this Covent Garden production is weak.
Beethoven was wise to stop writing operas after this one: his towering reputation wouldn’t have survived many more farragoes like Fidelio.
Gerry Smith
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