A Night with Renée Fleming: The Opera Diva Returns
You know you’ve encountered a true, old-school opera diva when even her jewelry receives a mention in the programme. At the age of 66, the illustrious American soprano Renée Fleming stands as the reigning grande dame of opera—a name that can effortlessly fill the Royal Festival Hall on a school night, offering a mere half-hour of singing as a tantalizing promise. (Of course, it helps that this brief performance includes the breathtaking Strauss masterpiece, Four Last Songs.)
Rumors of Fleming’s retirement—first circulating in 2017 after she delivered her final Rosenkavalier at the Metropolitan Opera—have proven to be greatly exaggerated. She has continued to curate her appearances with care, gravitating away from traditional roles and embracing new works. The Strauss selection marked a nostalgic return to familiar territory for a soprano synonymous with the composer’s heroines, providing a poignant interpretation of a work that glances back with a smile before gracefully transitioning into the twilight.
However, before we reach that autumnal sunset, Strauss begins with a delicate spring—an ethereal experience, to say the least. Fleming, at times overly supported by the London Philharmonic Orchestra under the baton of conductor Thomas Guggeis, found herself swept along, adrift in the swirling currents between notes, grasping at the ends of phrases. Yet with each song, she unveiled a bit more warmth, revealing glimpses of her characteristic vocal brilliance that perfectly matched her stunning gold earrings. By the time the encore performance of “Morgen” arrived, the diva had regained her focus, captivating the audience with the gentlest and most intimate of musical farewells.
Thomas Guggeis made his conducting debut with the London Philharmonic, a noteworthy milestone for the young German maestro, whose name is already being linked with some prestigious engagements. Reports from Germany and the Met have been promising, especially considering his impressive repertoire that includes high-profile Wagner pieces. A sequence of the composer’s overtures during his debut offered an opportunity to gauge his interpretative style.
As for Guggeis, his conducting fluctuated between brilliance and inconsistency. The Tristan Prelude and Liebestod felt somewhat disjointed, with emotions bursting forth prematurely before the momentum could fully develop, leaving the ensemble feeling uncertain. His choice to perform the openings of Tannhäuser, Lohengrin, and Meistersinger in a quasi-symphonic sequence struck an odd chord. Nevertheless, the “slow movement” of Lohengrin finally delivered a coherence that had previously been elusive, culminating in the full-bodied release of Die Meistersinger, with wind and brass taking center stage.
Guggeis clearly possesses a wealth of ideas to share, but it will be refreshing when he learns to temper his exuberance, allowing each piece to speak without the need for overwhelming expression in every moment.
