The case for opera in the vernacular was never better made than by The Magic Flute, Mozart’s final, Masonic fairytale, and Benjamin Davis’ revival of Dominic Cooke’s 2005 production for the Welsh National Opera strengthens that case.
Essentially a pantomime devised by Shikanaeder, (the first Papageno), The Magic Flute follows Tamino, a handsome prince who is saved from a monster by the Queen of the Night’s servants. They show him a portrait of the queen’s daughter, Pamina, and naturally he falls in love with her. Thus begins Tamino’s quest to rescue her from the clutches of the evil Sarastro and his brotherhood, aided and abetted by the faithful, feckless bird-catcher Papageno. The comic element is key and Jeremy Samms’ lively translation maintains this tradition.
The outstanding character of the piece is not the earnest and slightly annoying Tamino (a heroic Peter Wedd), but the ridiculous yet endearing Papageno, David Stout’s lovely baritone contrasting with his bawdy ribaldry.
The tone is set by Tamino’s struggle with a monstrous lobster. Julian Crouch’s Magritte inspired design really works here, with Feydeau doors opening on all sides and the “brotherhood” appearing Samuel Beckett-like through the floor. It is mercifully unlittered with too obvious Masonic imagery. The dominant sky blue contrasts with the orange of the bowler-hatted brotherhood – literally “Orangemen’” – although at times the lighting in Oxford’s New Theatre was a little obscure.The forest creatures, including a fabulous flitting secretary bird, were delightfully anthropomorphic.
This was a fine ensemble cast, Elizabeth Watts’ beautiful Pamina always secure, Laure Meloys’ Queen of the Night almost excellent and Tim Mirfins’ urbane sophisticated Sarastro rich in all but the lowest notes, while capturing the stillness which lies at the heart of this production. The Three Ladies’ transformation from Victorian parlour maids into dancers from the Folies Bergeres was uncomfortable, although Claire Hampton’s metamorphosis from old hag into ‘”Lady Papa GaGa’” was hysterical and her business with the little Papaganos brought the house down. The three fine-voiced “boys” appear on a hot air balloon cycle in a homage to Ingmar Bergman’s 1975 film.
As the predatory Monostatos, Howard Kirk spat out his invective with clear diction, although his funereal garb somewhat diluted the menace of his Beelzebub when first he encountered the bizarre birdman, Papageno.
Gareth Jones conducted great tempi with economy and security (only the second act trio experienced minor ensemble problems), while the WNO band hit all the right notes with lovely work from bassoons, basset horns and divided lower strings.
