At the Proms, Weber's Oberon Could Use More Fairy Dust

Two centuries on from its London premiere, Oberon remains Carl Maria von Weber’s most enigmatic opera. Often cited as a forgotten masterpiece, its combination of a notoriously risible libretto and the fact that it was written in English means that it’s never really staged, and yet the overture and the soprano aria “Ocean! Thou mighty monster” are regularly heard as standalones (the latter, generally in German). For all the above reasons, this 6 August BBC Prom at the Royal Albert Hall was a welcome chance to assess the piece, here performed on instruments of the composer’s period by the Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique and conducted by Mark Elder.

Weber’s final work nearly never was. The success of Der Freischütz a few years earlier meant that the composer’s star was in the ascendant all over Europe. He was a natural choice, then, to create a fantastical spectacular for London’s Covent Garden Theatre, and yet at first he held back. The libretto, by James Robinson Planché (pronounced ‘Plank’ by English critics who leapt at the chance to mock his “wooden dialogue”) left Weber cold. In the end he did it for the money which, as his doctors had given him just a few months to live, would be sorely needed by his family. In the end, he only lasted a couple of weeks past opening night and was duly buried in London until Wagner—a huge fan—and the citizens of Dresden had his remains translated to Germany two decades later.

The story is spectacularly silly. Oberon and Titania, familiar from Shakespeare as king and queen of the fairies, have quarreled on the subject of male versus female fidelity. Oberon therefore sets out to find a mortal couple who can prove mutually true to each other through thick and thin. Enter Sir Huon of Bordeaux, who has been sent on a quest by the Emperor Charlemagne to kill the Sultan of Baghdad’s righthand man and plant a kiss on the lips of Princess Reiza. Oberon gives a magic horn to Huon as a get out of jail card enabling the knight and his squire Sherasmin to escape from Arabia with Reiza (now in love with Huon) and her maid Fatima (equally smitten with the squire). It’s a long and rambling tale, but of course all ends happily with lovers—mortal and fairy—reunited.

Oberon is a singspiel, i.e. a collection of musical numbers linked by, in this case interminable, dialogue. The Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique and Monteverdi Choir, who instigated this ambitious project, sensibly chose to jettison the spoken libretto in favor of a newly commission narration. In the event, Timothy Knapman’s text, written in witty and sometimes cheesy modern verse, was effective enough, though its tendency to send up the story robbed the opera of any pathos it might have possessed. It was crisply delivered by the British actress Tamsin Greig, whose archly knowing manner curiously seemed to mock both the original storyline and some of the dodgier rhymes and scansion in Knapman’s narration.

An elfin pantomime

Emma Doherty staged the action simply, with the soloists in faux-pantomime gear and the chorus—the excellent Monteverdi Choir—in civvies. Occasionally the action was placed awkwardly behind the orchestra, but generally the storytelling was clear and immediate.

J'Nai Bridges as Puck and Nicky Spence as Oberon

With its Wagnerian horn calls and elfin woodwind, the famous overture cut its usual dash in Elder’s supple account. The surging string subject that recurs later in the opera was briskly taken and beautifully articulated by the orchestra, but the countertheme, also on strings, was expansively romantic, setting the tone for an engaging reading that was dramatically flexible throughout. There were times when the more delicate orchestral effects got rather lost in the cavernous acoustic, but on the whole Elder gave the music every chance to shine.

That it sometimes didn’t was the fault of a score that takes a long time to get into its stride, with arias that often feel too brief (apart from their long, repetitive endings) and a great deal of time off for narration. Noticeably it wasn’t until the end of act two (of three) that we heard a fully satisfactory number, it this case Reiza’s aforementioned apostrophe to the ocean. Fatima’s lively act three ballad stands out as the only other reasonably extractable number. Nevertheless, the orchestral playing was faultless with warm gut strings, pungent period winds and some stellar brass playing, especially in the celebratory finale.

The cast was led by Nicky Spence in the title role, his bright tenor possessing all the necessary heft and his diction impeccable. Although he was a regular presence throughout, there wasn’t that much for him to sing (and curiously Titania was entirely absent!). As the two lovers, John Findon sang with weight and lyricism as the endlessly tested Sir Huon. Jennifer Davis was Reiza, her sterling silver top notes ringing out in her big number.

Lovers divided, get coincided

In the smaller roles, Yannick Debus displayed a ripe baritone as the squire Sherasmin with Rachael Wilson’s velvety mezzo and powerful lower register ideal for the feisty Fatima. J’Nai Bridges did what she could with Oberon’s sidekick Puck, though again the role doesn’t get much in the way of memorable moments. Charlotte Bowden and Jessica Cale made their mark as a pair of gratuitous mermaids who pop up at the end of act two just for the heck of it.

As it stands, Oberon doesn’t feel like an opera we are likely to see on stage any time soon. Still, for its influence on Mendelssohn’s soon to be written A Midsummer Night’s Dream, not to mention Gilbert and Sullivan’s Iolanthe, it remains important. Perhaps a recording might convince us in ways that a theatrical presentation does not?

Photos © BBC Chris Christodoulou (Top photo, Tasmin Grieg)