Review: WA Symphony Orchestra: Die Fledermaus at Winthrop Hall 

WA Symphony Orchestra: Die Fledermaus at Winthrop Hall 
Friday, March 14, 2025

From Beethoven’s Fifth one week to Johann Strauss’ Die Fledermaus the next is a classical shift from the sublime to the ridiculous—in a good way. WASO’s concert Friday night took the Winthrop Hall audience on a waltz through the heart of old Vienna.

Johann Strauss, ‘the Waltz King,’ premiered his most famous work, Die Fledermaus, in 1874. The title of this preeminent operetta translates literally as ‘The Bat’ but, reflecting the story itself, is more accurately rendered as ‘The Revenge of the Bat.’ The bat in question was a fancy dress costume, the revenge payback for a prank that saw the wearer publicly humiliated.

As this lighthearted theme might suggest, operetta as a musical form bridges the gap between high opera and musical theatre. Often referred to as ‘light opera,’ it is essentially a comic entertainment. The idea is to give audiences a pleasant evening out, not to challenge them with tragic themes or heavy orchestral music but to make them feel like dancing and leave them with a hummable earworm.

Although Mozart described it as “certain dramatic abortions, those miniature compositions in which one finds only cold songs and couplets from vaudeville,” his Magic Flute is generally regarded as the template for the form. But it was not until the 1850s, some sixty years after his death, that operetta as we now know it came to prominence. It remained in vogue until the 1920s and 30s, when musicals took over.

Within twenty years of composer Jacques Offenbach popularising the form, its epicentre shifted from Paris to Vienna. Enter Johann Strauss the younger.

The plot of Die Fledermaus can simply be summarised as the maid, the singing teacher, his lover, and her husband at Prince Orlofsky’s ball, while the moral of the tale is the age-old, get-out-of-gaol-free card: ‘Blame it on the champagne.’ We’ve all been there. What better theme for a night of fun?

The work pretty well fits the Wikipedia definition of an operetta. The songs are broken by dialogue while the subject matter typically covers “lovers spats, mistaken identities, sudden reversals of fortune, and glittering parties and may extend to include a satirical commentary.”

By centring upon a masked ball where a socially prominent married couple unknowingly encounter and flirt with each other and their maid while all are defiantly claiming to be someone they are not, Die Fledermaus effortlessly ticks off most of these defining features. Given that this sort of behaviour was de rigueur for Viennese high society in the 1870s, the comic thrust was largely holding a mirror up to nature, hence the work’s satirical bent.

Under the baton of Asher Fisch, WASO, its colourful forty-member chorus and sweep of guest singers rendered the show superbly.

With Michael Loney as the often mocking narrator, the guest artists included tenor Paul O’Neil and soprano Rachelle Durkin as the prominent couple, Gabriel and Rosalinda; Jessica Blunt as their maid, Adele; Andrew Goodwin as the dressing-gowned lover, Alfred; baritone Warwick Fyfe as the prison governor, Frank, overly fond of champagne; and mezzo-soprano Ruth Burke in the ‘trouser role’ of Prince Orlofsky. (Also known as ‘en travesti,’ a ‘trouser role’ is a male part, if not specifically composed for, frequently sung by a female voice.)

Frank was the comic brunt of the story, and Fyfe portrayed him with great verve while the gender-bending Burke proved that Russian oligarchs, then as now, even when fey, are a force to contend with. Her portrayal was as arresting as his/her dirty white tuxedo.

The infectious overture, ‘The Fledermaus Waltz,’ is one of Strauss’ best-known orchestral works. Filled with polkas, artfully interwoven melodies, and a recurring waltz for strings, its sudden changes of tempo prefigure the twists and turns of the story and together are a testament to Strauss’ mastery of orchestration. Achingly familiar, when the string waltz was first played, the audience felt at once at home.

But the real fireworks came in Act II with back-to-back arias. First it was Adele’s famous ‘Laughing Song,’ then Rosalinde’s ‘Sounds of my Homeland,’ which was ironic given that she was singing through her disguise as a Hungarian Countess. Later it was Frank’s hilarious ode to champagne. Blunt, Durkin, and Fyfe’s performances of these numbers were at once comically and musically arresting, at moments spine-tingling.

Although the house wasn’t quite full, it was a wide-ranging audience of all ages, everyone from the grand dames of Dalkeith with their husbands to tattooed boho women with their consorts. This heartening mix was testament to the universal appeal of jubilant romantic music.

Drinks were allowed in the auditorium, which is always fatal when there is a wooden floor. As luck would have it, someone kicked their glass over at the operetta’s quietest moment. But this was a minor quibble from such a great night’s music.

Like a state theatre company, the remit of a state symphony orchestra is to cover the full range of the classical canon, everything from the highest to the most popular, as well as presenting the best of the new and innovative. To teach, challenge, and delight, to twist Sir Philip Sidney’s famous phrase around a bit.

WASO’s performance of Die Fledermaus last weekend hit the mark. An enchanting display of orchestral virtuosity, a lighthearted and good-humoured waltz down the corridors of great romantic music, it left the audience with a spring in their step and a hummable earworm or three running through their heads.

IAN LILBURNE

Photos by Daniel James Grant