Fidelio

Introduction

Due to the work’s at times particularly powerful, almost liturgical-sacral tone (from which even the love duet of Florestan and Leonora is no exception), Wilhelm Furtwängler considered Fidelio not an opera at all, but rather a mass. Others argue that it is not a true opera because it is in fact a Singspiel, interspersed with spoken dialogue, and thus an operatic continuum cannot truly come into being. A more recent view holds that Beethoven actually wrote a symphony in operatic form, since the best parts (for example, the prisoners’ chorus) are symphonically composed. Georges Duhamel formulates this cluster of problems very precisely when he describes Fidelio as presenting “a genius struggling with difficulties that do not belong to his realm, and which he overcame brilliantly, though not very originally.” The work’s identity is itself continuously in question: there are three versions of the piece and four potential overtures, one of which is lost, while the so-called Leonora Overture No. 3 is usually incorporated into the second act in theatrical practice.

It is also an open question whether the piece is truly an uncritical glorification of conjugal love, or whether this merely serves as a pretext for recognizing in Florestan a history-shaping force that claims the right to sacrifice or marginalize everything else in the name of an idea. Péter Nádas, in connection with the genre of the so-called “rescue opera,” which combines the desire for freedom with sensuality and has become functionally embedded in European consciousness, formulates it as follows: “If someone is a supporter of the freedom of peoples, then it is clear that they must renounce love for individuals. Florestan does not love one person, he loves everyone; he must not liberate one, but all at once. Why should Fidelio and Florestan not have sacrificed sweet little Marcellina, poor little Jaquino, this silly goose and this crude blockhead?” Musically, the most exciting aspect is Leonora’s self-aware character and her multiple transformations: by crossing gender boundaries, she comes to know the world of men; by stepping beyond the closed sphere of personal happiness, she recognizes the terrifying power of the idea.

Zoltán Csehy

“Blessed Moments”

“I brought this spiritual child into the world with greater birth pangs than any of the others, yet it caused me more sorrow than all the rest.” If true, Beethoven himself is said to have spoken thus shortly before his death about his only opera, which already has two titles. The problematic nature of Fidelio, mentioned above, is undeniable; yet in fact what Lady Clementine Churchill said about her difficult-natured husband also applies to this work: its faults become evident at first encounter, while its virtues unfold continuously over the decades that follow. The opera, which begins within the sphere of respectable petty-bourgeois insignificance, namely with the duet scene of Marcellina and Jaquino, repeatedly rises above this (ground) level, or indeed descends even deeper, sometimes quite literally.

True, this most often happens without smooth rounding-off or transitions, and along the way we must also listen to the rarely immersive prose delivery of opera singers. But this is a very small price to pay for what happens in Leonora’s or Florestan’s arias: for the noble euphoria of “come, blessed ray of beautiful hope” and “heaven opens,” which constantly fills the listener with the sensation of soaring aloft. Of course, we do not measurably become better people from this, nor do we entirely believe that the minister speaking in Sarastro’s voice truly comes to “disperse the cloud of sorrow.” Down here, among us, life and justice certainly do not unfold like this, but where Beethoven once stood, such “blessed moments” may indeed occur. Let “joy,” then, refute our everyday and historical experience!

Ferenc László

“Only empathy can save us”

The Hungarian State Opera presents another Western European success production: Beethoven’s only opera, Fidelio, was staged in 2020 at the Royal Opera House in London in a production by Tobias Kratzer to significant acclaim. We asked the director, intendant and managing director of the Hamburg State Opera since the beginning of the current (2026/27) season, about his concept and its lasting relevance.

Regarding your London production of Fidelio, critics primarily highlighted its bold interpretation and cinematic vision. More than half a decade after the premiere, how do you view the production?

We placed the first act of Fidelio in the original historical context that inspired the composer: the era of the French Revolution, the world of the ideals of liberty, equality, and fraternity. The second act asks: what remains of these ideals today? The work addresses issues that are always relevant, and I believe Beethoven’s answer is still timely: perhaps empathy is the only thing that can still save us.

You relocated the story from 17^th-century Spain to the time of the French Revolution, yet we still find ourselves in a contemporary setting. What inspired this complex approach?

The solution lies in the differing dramaturgy and musical style of the opera’s two acts. Many consider this contrast to be Fidelio’s greatest weakness, but for me it is one of its most unique qualities. This is not a “well-made play,” but rather a work that constantly poses questions to the audience, raising both aesthetic and political dilemmas. I want the viewer to reflect: isn’t the way we watch the suffering of others on stage similar to how we respond to the horrors of the world? We observe, consume, perhaps even enjoy the tension, yet it does not prompt us to act. Or does it?

Fidelio is both a love story and a political statement. Which aspect feels more important to you here and now?

For me, the most important line in the piece is Leonora’s cry in the second act: “Whoever thou art, I shall save thee!” At this moment, Leonora transcends the personal, the romantic storyline, making a brave, political, and deeply human declaration. In my staging, Marzelline, a supporting character often pushed into the background plays a key role in this turning point. She loves Leonora and considers freeing Leonora’s husband more important even than saving her own love.

In your productions, the tools of theatre, film, and live performance often intertwine. How does this work in Fidelio?

Directly addressing the audience and filming them upon arrival first appeared as a device in Fidelio. I developed this idea further in my autumn 2025 Hamburg production of Robert Schumann’s Das Paradies und die Peri: there, the singers broke the fourth wall to communicate directly with the audience.

The Budapest audience will be the first outside the United Kingdom to see your Fidelio. Is it necessary to adapt a concept originally designed for a different cultural context to a new audience?

There are practical considerations, of course, such as how the set adapts to a stage of different size and technical conditions. But for me, the most important thing is that the universal message of the work is not lost in the adaptation. I believe that the questions posed by both the piece and the staging are not tied to a single location but are universal. The answers, however, depend not only on the environment but also on each viewer’s personal response.

Interview conducted by Tamás Jászay