Foto: Jef Rabillon
Suzanne Daumann
The Magic Flute is not a perfect opera: it
doesn’t have the clockwork dramaturgy of Le Nozze di Figaro nor the somber
gracefulness of Don Giovanni; Schikaneder is not Da Ponte, the Flute’s
characters don’t have the complex and lifelike psychology of the great
Mozart/Da Ponte works. The Magic Flute is not a perfect opera, it is more than
that: it is universal. The Magic Flute is an opera of magic and for the magic
to work it is essential to leave at the cloakroom cynicism, materialism and all
the other i-phones of our post-modern spirit. We only need to follow the Three
Boys, for truth comes from the mouth of babes. This is the spirit of the 2006 production of
Anger Nantes Opéra, fortunately taken up this year again. Its authors, Patrice
Caurier and Moshe Leiser, stage directors, Mark Shanahan, conductor, Christian
Fenouillat, scenography, Agostino Cavalca, costumes, and Christophe Forey,
lighting, have taken the work back to its magic simplicity, with the help of
live doves, a few gorillas, a polar bear and a rhinoceros. This Flute is full
of humour, but it takes itself seriously: The ambiance is there right from the overture.
Mark Shanahan conducts the Orchestra des Pays de la Loire with a light and
aerial solemnity. His somewhat slow tempi allow the words to unfold their
deeper sense. The orchestra accompanies the singers very sensitively, sounding
like a chamber music ensemble, finely nuanced. The staging as well is simple
and easy to read: mostly the stage is empty, a few luminous props and the
costumes are enough to explain what the singers and orchestra are saying.
Voluminous decorations in any case would have made the different theatrical
coups impossible - apparitions, disappearances through the trapdoors and flying
people. The costumes as well are being kept simple: Pamina and Tamino are
wearing white and blue, the Queen of the Night is fittingly in red, Papageno in
egg-yolk-yellow and the Three Ladies are glittering with multicoloured sequins.
Sarastro and his people are wearing nondescript suits of grey. Elmar Gilbertsson, the remarkable young Icelandic tenor, is
Tamino. With his dark brooding good looks and haughty ways, and his tender and
tonic tenor voice, he is the perfect incarnation of the prince in love, of the
courageous knight on his quest – the noble and spiritual part of the human
soul, as it were. His more earthly-minded counterpart, Papageno, is played with
irresistible charm and humour by Ruben Drole, baritone. With a warm and velvety
timbre, he sings and talks in a most natural way, and when he’s supposed to be
quiet, he hums and dances his way through “Non pui andrai”, just for the heck
of it. Soprano Marie Arnet is a most graceful princess
Pamina, daughter of the Queen of the Night, who has been kidnapped by the
sinister Sarastro. Her silvery and innocent timbre makes her most touching and
convincing in her aria “Ach, ich fühl’s”. Oh, and we feel with her, and so does
poor Tamino, who is not allowed to speak to her. The Queen of the Night is the
other aspect of the feminine principle, the castrating mother. Soprano Olga
Pudova incarnates her with authority and quite seductively. Her adversary and
masculine counterpart, Sarastro, is the bass James Cresswell. A pity that he
has to walk about on some kind of contraption to make him taller: it makes him
look rather precarious instead of adding to his authority. Unnecessary as well,
since this Sarastro has the right voice and tone, authoritarian and tender, as
the case asks for. The Three Boys are children from the Maîtrise
de la Perverie in Nantes, charming and touching, be they dressed as urchins of
the 30s, in cooks’ hats or night shirts. The innocence and frailty of real
children’s voices gives an additional spiritual dimension to the opera that is
totally inexistent when sopranos take on these parts. And so, this simplified version of the work
lets us enter freely into a magical world. Heard and seen as a simple fairy
tale the story acquires an old-new sense, the symbols yield readily. And we
leave, wondering: And if it were true? If life were just a voyage through fire
and water and suffering, towards some higher goal? And if the material world
were just a trick of the Ladies of the Queen of the Night? We leave with a tear in our smile and our eyes
are open for the magic that is everywhere around us.
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