Ludwig van Beethoven was a man of conviction and passion.
Take the grandiose, universally recognized "da-da-da-DAAH" opening passage of his Fifth Symphony, or the tender emotions in the deceptively simple "Moonlight Sonata," or the Eroica Symphony, or one of any number of other pieces.Collectively, they reveal a man of unyielding principle and occasionally violent temper, tempered by a reverence for true and abiding love.
What, then, could be a more appropriate subject for Beethoven's only opera, "Fidelio," than a story of heroic rescue? Forget magic flutes and masked balls -- courage, true love and holding fast to one's ideals were the things that interested him.
"It fit into his own philosophy of life: the struggle of the individual," said conductor Matthias Kuntzsch.
Kuntzsch knows whereof he speaks. He has conducted over 150 stagings of "Fidelio" in German and Austrian opera houses. But he's about to introduce the work to a whole new audience. Next Saturday, the maestro will conduct soloists Margaret Jane Wray, George Gray, Kurt Link, Daniel Sumegi, Todd Miller, Karen Early Evans, the Utah Opera Chorus and the Utah Symphony in the Utah Opera premiere of "Fidelio."
"We're very excited," said Utah Opera general director Anne Ewers.
So excited, in fact, that in addition to her wide-ranging search for soloists, Ewers auditioned and hired another performer rarely, if ever, seen on the Capitol Theatre stage -- a horse.
The horse (or "The Artist," as he may now prefer to be called) will be taken from his regular duties pulling a carriage around Salt Lake City to pull a cart onstage. With a circus stint among his accomplishments, "his resume is longer than some of our singers," Ewers said.
Nevertheless, whether The Artist Formerly Known as Horse helps or hurts the production remains to be seen.
"(Ewers once) directed a production of 'Don Giovanni,' " said Utah Opera principal music coach Paul Dorgan. "We tried the horse thing. It didn't work."
But he shouldn't worry -- Beethoven didn't get it right the first time, either. He didn't even get it right the second time. The triumphant 1814 version of "Fidelio" that Utah audiences will hear in five performances was the composer's third stab at it.
It started with Beethoven being exposed to the 1798 French play "Leonore, ou L'amour conjugal" by Jean-Nicholas Bouilly and deciding to make an opera out of it.
Bouilly's libretto was based on a true incident that occurred during the Reign of Terror following the French revolution in 1789. With the story's locale moved to Spain to get it by government censors, it told of a woman, Leonore, courageously saving her husband who has been imprisoned and starved for speaking out against the cruel practices of the governor of the prison, Pizarro.
Leonore disguises herself as a man and gets a job at the prison, hoping somehow to rescue her husband, Florestan. (At the Capitol Theatre, "Fidelio" follows the touring production of the cross-dressing tale "Victor/Victoria." Coincidence?)
Calling herself "Fidelio," Leonore wins her supervisor's favor and is allowed into the deepest, darkest dungeon of all, where she and the supervisor have been assigned to dig a grave for the prisoner. The emaciated prisoner, whom Leonore/Fidelio barely recognizes as Florestan, is to be killed by Pizarro.
But when Pizarro arrives and raises his dagger to do the deed, Leonore reveals herself and draws a pistol, crying, "First you must kill his wife!" The minister of state arrives, arrests Pizarro, and Florestan is freed.
The 1804 Vienna premiere of Beethoven's first attempt, which he called "Leonore," bombed. To be fair, the audience consisted primarily of indifferent French soldiers who were garrisoned in Vienna following Napoleon's takeover of Austria. But the opera, frankly, needed work.
Beethoven revised it and gave it another try in 1805, but the reception remained cool. In 1814, after another extensive revision, the composer was ready to produce the opera yet again, but the manager of the Vienna theater insisted that Beethoven change the name -- the manager didn't want this production tainted by the failures of the previous "Leonores."
Reluctantly, Beethoven changed the name to "Fidelio." The run was a success, and the work has been a staple of European and American opera ever since.
In "Fidelio," Beethoven, whose deafness overtook him during its creation, created a complex, layered overture and orchestral accompaniment to the singers -- and tough vocal parts.
"It's a very demanding role," said soprano Wray of her character, Lenore. "He was so deaf and such an instrumentalist -- he wrote it for instruments, not the voice."
Over the course of her performance, Wray's singing will span three octaves, moving from mezzo-soprano up to lyric soprano, with a few rapidly moving coloratura passages, all the while demonstrating the dramatic soprano's ability to belt it out, unamplified, over orchestra and chorus.
Beethoven tapped into a wide range of emotions and musical styles in "Fidelio." Majestic, dark, even coquettish passages overtake each other in the course of the opera's two acts.
But despite its sprawling nature, right from the opening bars of the overture -- DA-da-da, DA-da-da, DA-da-da DA-DA -- the entire opera is distinctively and unmistakably Beethoven.
Don't believe it? Go hear it for yourself. Performances begin at 7:30 p.m. on Saturday and the following Monday, Wednesday and Friday, with a Sunday matinee (March 28) at 2 p.m. Tickets range from $12 to $55 and can be purchased at the Capitol Theatre Box Office or by calling 355-ARTS.