Nicholas
Hytner’s staging of Mozart’s Magic Flute
stands the test of time (this is its tenth
revival, this time under the direction of
Ian Rutherford). It contains much to delight
(the Papageno-Papagena duet, with its nest
descending from the heights carrying the two
‘love-birds’ – sorry – is but one example).
The glimpses of forest we see are positively
Eden-like. Hieroglyphs abound. Here is a story
set firmly outside of any rigid temporal confines
that takes some of its religious aesthetic
from Ancient Egypt, in a land of Magic where
the polarities of Good and Evil are sharply
differentiated (even if it is not immediately
clear which is which). True, the staging does
not harp on about the Masonic influences that
underlie the plot, rather preferring to present
a fairy-tale with a happy ending, the deeper
layers of which remaining firmly buried.
To enable
such a varied score as Magic Flute
to hang together requires a super-sensitive
conductor. Nicholas Kraemer fits the bill
nicely. Kraemer has made something of a speciality
of early music (he is principal guest conductor
of Chicago’s Music of the Baroque, for example)
and that was perhaps immediately obvious because
of his handling of the fateful trio of chords
that opens the opera and in the fast speed
of the main body of the Overture. Yet this
was no rushed-through account, for Kraemer
found plenty of space for the beauties of
the score (and there are many) to come through.
The processional that opens Act II was calm
and measured with a warm and full sound. Kraemer’s
handling of accompanied recitative was superb
(the hand of experience was fully in evidence),
his sense of the work’s architecture never
in doubt.
Rhys
Meirion, an ENO Company Principal, took the
part of Tamino, Mozart’s ‘hero’, on this occasion
(one of four performances - Toby Spence takes
on the role in all others). Meirion, entering
entwined with a rubber snake, is possessed
of a pleasant, rounded voice (not a hint of
the Heldentenor here) which can operate
a silken legato when required. His light yet
expressive timbre came into its own with ‘Dies
Bildnis’ (‘Such loveliness without compare’)
while his affecting, sing-song Welsh accent
worked well in the spoken passages.
In 2000,
Susan
Gritton took
the part of Pamina - a mouth-watering thought;
for this performance we had Mary Nelson (Carolyn
Sampson also takes this role for some of this
run of Flute). Nelson is a newer kid
on the block who has a lovely tone and also
– importantly – acts well. She started a little
on the weak side (this was the first of her
four performances, so maybe this was simply
nerves), growing quickly in confidence and
stature. She looks the part, too (the loveliness
Tamino sings about is entirely credible) and
her acting is substantially above the opera
singer’s norm.
Her
performance of ‘Ach, ich fühl’s’ (‘Now
I know that love .…’) was given with a pure
tone and a sweet, honeyed legato, while her
duet with Papageno (‘Bei Männern’) was
so successful because of the well-matched
voices of Nelson and Toby Stafford-Allen.
Stafford-Allen, his country bumpkin accent
complementing Meirion’s Welsh one, is an ENO
Young Singer making his role début
here. And what a success he was. His comedic
timing is excellent (it must be a wonderful
gift of a role – he certainly seemed to be
enjoying himself), his voice always focussed
and his meeting with Papagena (Sarah Tynan,
a char-lady with a Yorkshire/Lancashire accent)
pure delight.
This
matinée was Laure Meloy’s one and only
traversal of the Queen of the Night’s pyrotechnics.
Her experience seems to have been over the
pond in the USA so far, so how good to be
able to give her a warm welcome here. With
a range like hers, it is no surprise to learn
that she ‘covered’ the part of Lulu (Berg)
– she is excellent in alt, (her first
Aria in Act I was ample demonstration of this),
her pitching little short of miraculous. Similarly,
‘Der hölle Rache’ (Act II, ‘The fire
of hell is burning in my bosom’) was delivered
with real venom.
Graeme
Danby as Sarastro sang with a lovely, velvety
sound, yet his high register lacked substance
– was it projecting right to ENO’s rafters?
Alisdair Elliott’s Monostatos was agile in
his Act II aria (with the ENO orchestra light
as a feather here). The two ‘trinities’ –
the Three Ladies and the Three Boys – balanced
each other in their excellence, both in terms
of vocal mixing and of comedy value. All six
singers had obviously been carefully handpicked.
Perhaps special mention should go to Ravi
Shah’s First Boy, which was especially pure
of tone.
The
ENO Chorus was superb, the overall sound marvellously
and carefully balanced. The final chorus,
with the colour-shifting moon now transformed
to a full sun, was a triumph, a reminder not
only of the force of Good, but of Mozart’s
compositional omniscience.
This
is a magnificent production. Backed by such
stylish orchestral playing and some truly
sterling vocal contributions. It surely should
be counted as one of the ‘must-sees’ in London
at the moment.
Colin
Clarke