毫不妥協

西方音樂的歷史長流中最大的諷刺之一是，盡管貝多芬—— 這位被作家安東尼· 伯吉斯（Anthony Burgess）在大概60 年前，他那本反烏托邦的暢銷小說《發條橙》（A Clockwork Orange ）中稱之為“路德維?！?范老兄”的作曲家——在交響樂的領域雄霸天下，但在歌劇院他幾乎沒有立足之地。說真的，在這方面貝多芬并不孤單。勃拉姆斯與馬勒從未寫過歌?。豢蓱z的海頓與舒伯特雖然創作了不少歌劇作品，但沒有一部能夠擠進常規劇目中。

可是，《費岱里奧》（Fidelio ）是個特例——你可以把它說成是貝多芬畢生唯一的歌劇；但如果你把此前譜寫的兩個版本的《萊昂諾拉》（Leonore ） 計算在內，那就是他的第三部歌劇。羅西尼曾經聲稱，瓦格納的音樂擁有“燦爛的時刻，也有很多乏味的一刻鐘”。這個描述令我禁不住聯想起《費岱里奧》。指揮家威爾海姆· 富特文格勒（Wilhelm Furtw?ngler）對于這個問題曾給出更尖銳的解讀。在稱贊貝多芬的音樂“帶給我們撫慰與勇氣”的同時，他認為《費岱里奧》更像一首彌撒曲而不是一部歌劇?！爱斎?，《費岱里奧》不是我們所熟知的那種歌劇，”他補充道，“貝多芬并不熟悉舞臺音樂， 他也不是什么戲劇劇本專家?！?/p>

所以不要再兜圈子了，讓我們直擊問題的關鍵——劇本?！顿M岱里奧》這個故事最初由一位能言善辯的法國編劇讓- 尼古拉斯· 布約利（Jean- Nicolas Bouilly）于1794 年創作。故事洋溢著那個時代的革命情懷：一位名叫弗洛雷斯坦的人，因“膽敢說真話”而被關入獄中；他的妻子萊昂諾拉為了拯救丈夫，喬裝打扮成男人，并改名為“費岱里奧”， 當上監獄長的助手。最后夫婦團聚，打倒了苛政， 自由獲得勝利。

歌劇的最終版本于1814 年首演。長期以來很多人都將這部作品視為是貝多芬對拿破侖當年被迫下臺的藝術回應。同樣，《費岱里奧》也是1945 年第二次世界大戰結束后在柏林搬演的首部歌劇。這部以塞維利亞為背景的歌劇顯然在佛朗哥政權倒臺后在西班牙引起了共鳴。但是，盡管《費岱里奧》成了真理戰勝苛政的勝利象征，人們還是不禁會想： 如果用上貝多芬交響曲中的一部來歌頌自由勝利， 效果或許會更佳。

這些說法不僅僅是因為貝多芬的交響樂擁有表達語言文字所不能表達的力量。更確切地說，當我們研究《費岱里奧》這部作品時，文本就造成了很大的阻礙——德國作詞人兼導演約瑟夫· 松萊特納（Joseph Sonnleithner）翻譯和改編了原來的法語劇本，作詞人史蒂芬· 馮· 布萊寧（Stephan von Breuning）把原來的三幕結構濃縮至兩幕，最后由德國詩人喬治· 弗列德里奇· 特萊茨克（Georg Friedrich Treitschke）進一步修改。我們可以這么說， 這是個典型的“人多反誤事”的個案——作曲家致力于譜寫一部歌劇，但眾多填詞人的目標卻是一部德國“歌唱劇”（Singspiel）——最終的效果從多方面來看都不太成功。

我們可以肯定的是，在這個世界里，苛政與壓迫仍然存在著。因此，《費岱里奧》涉及的是一個永恒的主題。事實上，在過去幾年內，有兩個截然不同的制作以各自獨特的方式把這個故事帶上了現代舞臺。

2018 年，充滿干勁的心跳歌劇團（Heartbeat Opera）創造了壯舉：在紐約的舞臺上呈現了一個規模極小、親密感十足的《費岱里奧》制作。歌劇團在自家網站向公眾承諾，該制作的藝術宗旨是“啟示性與徹底的改編，巧妙的設置”。翌年，美國作曲家大衛· 朗（David Lang）親自改編《費岱里奧》的故事，創作了新歌劇《國家的囚徒》（prisoner of the state ，劇名故意只用了小寫），紐約愛樂樂團負責世界首演。這兩套歌劇的時長都在90 分鐘之內， 大量刪減了貝多芬當年所用的劇本。心跳歌劇團的制作棄用了貝多芬的大部分音樂，并將原有的管弦編制縮到很小，配樂效果別具一格。而大衛· 朗則完全摒棄了貝多芬的音樂，一切重新譜寫。

心跳歌劇團的制作實現了眾多歌劇院關于這部作品的期望：大量舍去了《費岱里奧》里一段接一段的、煩煩瑣瑣的、阻礙主線發展的對白。首先， 監獄長女兒愛上女扮男裝的萊昂諾拉那些俗氣的場景被刪掉了。導演運用新的手法，讓人物變得更“現代”，把情節交代清楚。弗洛雷斯坦（Florestan）的名字被縮短，變成斯坦（Stan）。主管監獄的壞蛋唐·皮薩羅（Don Pizarro）只取了“唐尼”（Donnie）的別名。萊昂諾拉的名字也縮短了，她是利婭（Leah）。而且， 在我們生活的21 世紀，利婭不需要喬裝成男人也可以與監獄長女兒調情。（很奇怪，歌劇團沒有交代清楚為什么保留了《費岱里奧》的劇名，因為在這個制作里，“費岱里奧”并不存在。）

斯坦不僅是一名政治犯，還是個維護黑人移民權益的運動家。該制作在2022 年重演，正值黑人維權運動高峰期，效果更加突出。當時飾演斯坦的尼爾森· 厄伯（Nelson Ebo）曾是來自非洲安哥拉的一位難民，整個制作因為他的參與，于是更具另一層意義。這個制作令人振奮的神來一筆是“囚犯大合唱”的處理。要把《費岱里奧》縮小為“室內歌劇”，當然要刪減掉合唱團。但是，在這場演出中， 大合唱卻出現在錄像投影中。在屏幕上亮相的是美國中部多所監獄里的合唱團，參與演出的成員都是在服刑的囚犯。（當今社會的監獄中會包括有參加音樂訓練，這很好地表明了現代民主社會與以往專制社會的鴻溝。）

大衛· 朗的切入點則有所不同。跟心跳歌劇團總監伊?！?赫德（Ethan Heard）一樣，他重新審視了法語原版文本，精心挑選最合適的場景（有時候，只保留一兩句對白），然后套上富有詩意、原汁原味的英語唱詞。但是，朗先生的目標并非是尋找當代社會意義，或與觀眾建立起關聯。除了提煉布約利原始文本中的革命思維以外，大衛· 朗將馬基雅維利（Machiavelli）、盧梭（Rousseau）、漢娜· 阿倫特（Hannah Arendt） 與杰里米· 邊沁（Jeremy Bentham）等政治哲學家的哲理名言從歷史書中剝離出來，將他們的思想生動地呈現在一個沒有特定時間和地點的程式化環境中。

盡管大衛· 朗與赫德所摒棄的部分大致相同， 但《國家的囚徒》一劇中保留了一些令我驚訝的元素——在某些情況下，更為激進。監獄長的“黃金詠嘆調”本來是為了預祝女兒與費岱里奧可以結為夫婦，并憧憬兩人未來生活充裕的唱段，但在《國家的囚徒》里，“黃金”寓意金錢與權力的腐敗。朗保留了女扮男裝的情節，效果要比赫德的同性調情更令人反思：我們有機會探討兩性角色與身份認同的問題，而不只是女扮男裝那么簡單的情節；當丈夫被社會迫害之后，妻子必須主動營救，她沒有任何選擇的余地。（女高音在《國家的囚徒》中歌唱的首句是：“我曾是一個女人……”）

當然，沒有人會把大衛· 朗的音樂與貝多芬的混為一談——即使是丹尼爾· 施洛斯貝格（Daniel Schlosberg）為心跳歌劇團濃縮版本的音樂加以了改編和重新配器，但毫無疑問，音樂還是貝多芬所譜寫的——朗先生自創的歌劇音樂與故事情節配合得天衣無縫。這一點，古典音樂交響大師可謂望塵莫及。

某些論述批評大衛· 朗的劇本不夠“文學”， 所刻畫的感情不夠“詩意”，但是音樂與文字彼此之間交替互補的效果卻非常優雅，就像優美的舞蹈一般。朗先生是后簡約主義作曲家，樂段盡管重復，卻往往帶有微小變奏。于是，看似簡單的旋律卻引出多重共鳴。這種音樂手法在朗先生版本的“囚犯大合唱”恰到好處。大合唱的音樂元素沒有一丁點跟貝多芬原作扯得上關系（當然沒有借用任何旋律），但卻表達出原作蘊藏在絕望中的希望感。

或者我們需要關注的焦點，就是與藝術作品保持距離。我們可以——也肯定會——繼續埋怨《費岱里奧》的原始劇本。但是，我們已經見證到這個歌劇故事流傳至今，本身依舊充滿蓬勃的生命力。

One of the great ironies in Western music is that while Beethoven—“the old Ludwig Van，” as Anthony Burgess dubbed him some 60 years ago in his novel A Clockwork Orange —remains the supreme master of the symphonic canon， he barely got a toehold in the opera house. He’s not alone in that regard. Brahms and Mahler never wrote operas. Poor Haydn and Schubert wrote plenty of operas， but none that re-mained in the repertory.

But Fidelio —either Beethoven’s only opera or his third if you count two earlier versions he wrote un-der the title Leonore —is a special case. Rossini once claimed that Wagner’s music has “magnificent mo-ments， but tedious quarters of an hour，” but it’s tempt-ing to think he was talking about Fidelio . The conduc-tor Wilhelm Furtw?ngler acknowledged the problem more pointedly. While praising Beethoven’s music for “giving us comfort and courage，” he also admitted that Fidelio was more of a mass than opera. “Certainly Fidelio is not an opera in the sense we are used to，” he added， “nor is Beethoven a musician for the theatre， or a dramaturgist.”

So let’s stop waffling here and go straight to the problem： the libretto. The story， originally written in1794 by the French playwright and polemist Jean- Nicolas Bouilly， is laced with the revolutionary senti-ment of its time： a man named Floristan is jailed for “daring to speak the truth”; his wife Leonore， now dressed as a man and calling herself “Fidelio，” takes a job as the jailor’s assistant to free her husband. Husband and wife are reunited， freedom triumphs over tyranny.

The final version， which premiered in 1814， has long been interpreted as Beethoven’s response to the defeat of Napoleon earlier that year. Likewise， Fidelio was also the first opera performed in Berlin in 1945 after the end of the Second World War. The op-era， which is set in Sevilla， clearly had resonance in Spain after the fall of the Franco regime. But despite Fidelio becoming a symbol of triumph against op-pressive governments， one can’t help but think that such events would be much better served by one of Beethoven’s symphonies.

It wasn’t simply that Beethoven’s symphonic music expresses something that words themselves cannot. Rather， when it comes to Fidelio ， the words—having been translated and adapted by German librettist and stage director Joseph Sonnleithner， restruc-tured from three acts to two by librettist Stephan von Breuning and further revised by poet Georg FriedrichTreitschke—actively get in the way. Ultimately， it’s classic case of collaborators working on different projects—the composer aiming for a classical opera， the librettist（s） writing a German Singspiel—with the results not quite succeeding in either.

Perhaps the one thing we can be assured of is the existence of tyrannical persecution somewhere in the world， so in that case Fidelio would seem timeless. And in fact， two entirely different projects in recent years have brought the story to the modern stage on their own respective terms.

In 2018 Heartbeat Opera， an intrepid New York company whose website promises “revelatory adapta-tions， radical rearrangements and ingenious design，” reached the pinnacle of its accomplishments thus far with a scaled-down， intimate staging of Fidelio . A year later， the composer David Lang went back to the core story in his opera prisoner of the state （he’s not a big fan of capital letters）， premiered by the New York Philharmonic. Each production lasted less than 90 minutes; both lopped large passages from the original libretto. Heartbeat’s production cut much of Beethoven’s music and rearranged what was left in creative instrumentations; Lang went one step further and got rid of Beethoven’s music entirely.

Heartbeat’s production did what dozens have surely longed to do： eliminate large stretches of dialogue that do little to advance the main story， starting with the kitschy romance between Leonore （dressed as the male Fidelio） and the jailor’s daughter. Not that they did away with the kitsch， particularly where modern-izing the characters was concerned. Floristan becomes “Stan，” the prison governor Don Pizzaro simply “Don-nie.” Leonore is now “Leah” and—it now being the 21st century—doesn’t need to dress as a man to have romantic flirtations with the jailor’s daughter （though why， with no “male” character named Fidelio， the op-era is still named Fidelio is never properly explained）.

Stan is not just a political prisoner， but a black im-migrant activist， a fact that was heavily accentuated in the production’s 2022 revival tour during the Black Lives Matter protests （the casting of Nelson Ebo， arefugee from Angola， added yet another layer to the mix）. Perhaps the production’s most inspired mo-ment is the treatment of the “Prisoner’s Chorus”; the most obvious section to cut in a chamber opera， the scene is rendered in video projections with an audio recording synchronizing multiple performances by actual inmates from prison music programs in vari-ous correctional facilities in the middle of the US （a prison today actually having a music program may well indicate the difference between democratic and tyrannical societies）.

Lang takes a rather different approach. Much like Heartbeat director Ethan Heard， he went back to the original text， cherry-picking scenes （and sometimes individual lines） before rendering them in poetically idiomatic English. But rather than aiming for direct contemporary relevance， Lang filters lines from Bouilly’s original libretto through the core of Revolu-tionary thought， with quotes and ideas from political thinkers like Machiavelli， Rousseau， Hannah Arendt and Jeremy Bentham ripped from the history books and placed vividly in a stylized setting devoid of spe-cific time and place.

Although Lang discards many of the same elements as Heard， some of what he keeps is surprising—and in several cases， more radical. The “Gold Aria，” in which the Jailor essentially wishes his daughter and Fidelio future prosperity， morphs into a metaphor concern-ing the corrupt nexus of money and power. Lang also keeps the story’s original cross-dressing element andends up with something far more radical than Heard’s same-sex flirtations： a dark rumination on gender roles and identity， not simply what it means for a woman to wear male dress but the broader implications in being forced to become the active partner after her husband is essentially emasculated by the system. （In the very first lines of Lang’s libretto， the soprano sings， “I was a woman once….”）

No one will ever confuse Lang’s music with Beethoven’s—even Daniel Schlosberg’s musical ar-rangements for the Heartbeat production were un-mistakably Beethoven—but it does manage to do something that the symphonic master was never able to accomplish in his opera： fit seamlessly with the text.

Some observers have targeted Lang’s libretto as being insufficiently “literary” or “poetically etched，” but his give-and-take between music and text un-folds in a graceful dance. Repetition in Lang’s post-minimalist aesthetic is never exact， which allows supposedly simple lines to resonate in multiple ways. This becomes particularly powerful， appropriately enough， in his version of the “Prisoner’s Chorus，” which without quoting a single line of the original still manages to convey Beethoven’s sense of hope prevailing amidst rampant despair.

Perhaps all we need to focus our perspective is a bit of distance. We can—and surely will-- continue to trash Fidelio ’s original libretto， but the world has now seen that the story itself still has plenty of life.