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Wagner in the Florida Everglades Wexford
O’Reilly Theatre, National Opera House
10/19/2025 - & October 23, 25, 31*, 2025
Frederick Delius: The Magic Fountain
Dominick Valdés Chenes (Solano), Axelle Saint‑Cirel (Watawa), Kamohelo Tsotetsi (Wapanacki), Meilir Jones (Talum Hadjo), Seamus Brady (A Spanish sailor)
Wexford Festival Opera Chorus, Andrew Synott (chorus master), Wexford Festival Opera Orchestra, Francesco Cilluffo (conductor)
Christopher Luscombe (Stage Director), Simon Higlett (Sets & Costumes), Amy Share Kissov (Choreography), Daniele Naldi & Paolo Bonapace (Lighting)
D. Valdés Chenes, A. Saint‑Cirel (© Pádraig Grant)
British composer Frederick Delius (1862-1934) is not known for his operas, though some may have heard of Koanga (1904) and A Village Romeo and Juliet (1907). Still fewer would have ever had the opportunity of seeing these operas live. The most obscure of his operas is The Magic Fountain (1895), which was only ever performed posthumously. The three works have two things in common: they’re love stories (common enough in opera), and they take place in exotic locations. Koanga is about Afro‑American slaves in Louisiana; A Village Romeo and Juliet takes place in rural Switzerland; and The Magic Fountain is a love story between a Spanish explorer and a Native American woman in the Florida Everglades. The latter was one of the three main attractions at this year’s edition of Ireland’s Wexford Festival, a gathering specializing in the presentation of operatic rarities.
The work at hand was written by a young Delius, who was sent by his no‑nonsense German parents to work the family‑owned Florida orange plantation, ostensibly to afford him business experience, but mostly to dissuade him from a career in music. Obviously, the project devised by Delius père did not succeed, but the lad’s American sojourn did yield this opera, based on the Fountain of Youth, a myth associated with conquistador Juan Ponce de León (1474‑1521). It is said the native Arawaks of Cuba told him that such a magic fountain existed in Florida.
Delius’s opera recounts the story of Spanish explorer Solano, who, shipwrecked, is found by a young native woman, Watawa, who leads him to her village. When Solano asks about the mythical fountain, the village chief Wapanacki asks Watawa to guide Solano to the seer who knows all about it. When they reach the seer Talum Hadjo, Watawa tells him she hates all white people, as they had massacred her kin and that she plans to kill Solano. Talum Hadjo tells Watawa not to murder Solano, but rather to lead him to the fountain whose waters are poison for anyone who comes unprepared. To be worthy of the fountain, preparation is required: years of meditation and weeks of fasting. Inexplicably, despite her desire for revenge, Watawa falls in love with the Spaniard. When they reach the fountain, she warns him, but he does not heed her caution. Solano, consumed by the myth, and Watawa, consumed by love, dive into the fountain, dying together in utterly Wagnerian fashion.
Young Delius was then likely under the spell of Tristan und Isolde (1865). The opera’s best music is its third act, though it’s faux Wagner through and through. Even Wagnerian references to love and death are in the text, and musical clins d’œil abound. Despite the limited number of musicians in Wexford’s relatively small pit, conductor Francesco Cilluffo managed to produce a magical, intoxicating sound. I doubt I was the only one to search the work online afterwards, to relish once again its glorious love duet. Even if only for its final twenty minutes, this opera merits a revival.
The first act, which takes place on the marooned ship before it’s struck by a storm, is musically thrilling, reminiscent of other contemporary English composers’ sea-inspired music. Again, Cilluffo was able to evoke the despair in the early part of that act, as well as the violence of the storm in the latter part.
The second act is the weakest part of the work, both dramatically and musically. There is some faux Native American dancing, brilliantly choreographed by Amy Share Kissov, though the music is of dubious quality.
The two lead singers were quite impressive. American tenor Dominick Valdés Chenes’s robust voice had the heroic timbre one expected for this Wagnerian role. He sang with style, never pushing his voice. French mezzo Axelle Saint‑Cirel, who sang La Marseillaise at the inauguration and closing ceremonies of the 2024 Paris Olympics, was a magnificent Watawa. Endowed with a warm mezzo, she was vocally effective. Unfortunately, the vocal writing for this role is unnuanced, basically sounding angry/passionate from beginning to end. Saint‑Cirel also acted accordingly, a woman on a vengeful mission that ultimately destroys her.
Simon Higlett’s costumes were more appealing than the sets, which he also concocted. His designs for the ship and its sailors, though conventional, were appealing, and reminiscent of adventure films. The second act’s costumes for the Florida natives also channeled Hollywood. These were pleasant and imaginative, but perhaps too colonialist for our current woke mindset. The sets for the third act were a disappointment; one expected a lush atmosphere to support Delius’s sensual Wagner-inspired music. The thick Everglades vegetation was made from suspended garlands, and the fountain itself was rather plain. Video projections of the actual Everglades would have done the trick.
The key fault of The Magic Fountain lies in the sudden, unconvincing love between Solano and Watawa. Nonetheless, the work remains a (then) immature composer’s tribute to Wagner, particularly to Tristan und Isolde. A similar tribute, also rarely performed, is Korngold’s Violanta (1916) written by a nineteen-year-old captivated by Wagner. A few years ago, I had the pleasure of hearing that rarity in Turin with a large orchestra and a big budget. It was an experience to cherish. As with the music of Korngold, who moved to Hollywood to write for the cinema, Delius’s score for The Magic Fountain could easily be repurposed as a film score – or even two: the first act for a pirate movie, and the third, a historical love saga.
Despite these reservations, Wexford’s festival afforded the opportunity to see this rare opera. May its talented team continue their commendable mission, presenting unusual treasures one is unlikely to see elsewhere.
Ossama el Naggar
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