KEY POINTS:
FIDELIO
Who: Auckland Philharmonia
Where: Auckland Town Hall
Reviewer: William Dart
Beethoven's only opera is the supreme celebration of the invincibility of the human spirit, written for a world that would never be the same after the French Revolution, created by a composer for whom the word compromise did not exist.
The Auckland Philharmonia Orchestra's concert performance ended in triumph, hinting at joyous odes yet to be written; the words "Never can be praised too loudly" rang through the town hall and might have applied as much to those responsible for this event, as to Beethoven's heroine.
Erika Sunnegardh was an incandescent Leonore, from nervous young man to loving wife. Emotions mingled in her magnificent Act One aria, most effectively when unmitigated fury was transformed to vibrant optimism.
Simon O'Neill as Florestan was particularly impressive in his prison aria; he sang heartbreakingly remembering better times. Reunited with Leonore in Act Two, he was irrepressible.
Adrian Strooper and Madeleine Pierard bantered fetchingly as Jacquino and Marzelline in their opening duet. Pierard was exquisitely focused in her first aria and gave a lustrous launch for the ensuing quartet.
It was difficult not to warm to Andrew Greenan's Rocco, even if he was not always at ease in the lower register.
Greenan caught the jailer's humanity especially in duet with Sunnegardh, after moving down the choir stalls, delivering the well-sustained Melodrama.
Peteris Eglitis's Pizarro was the old-fashioned villain that you want to hiss, and vastly entertaining; a man of thunderous passions, some of which were too strong to be accommodated by Beethoven's vocal line.
The Chapman Tripp Opera Chorus was jubilant, with the men making the most of their midway taste of sunlight and freedom.
Conductor Jonas Alber understood the structure of the work well, and its crucial balance of instrumental and vocal. The orchestra, apart from one nervous pianissimo introduction, played with a real sense of occasion.
The boldest stroke of all was replacing the verbose spoken libretto by an actor delivering the memories of an older Leonore. Although the concept bordered on the twee, Beryl Te Wiata illuminated the commentary with the grace and determination that many have appreciated in her own work.
