During his regime at the Hamburg State Opera, Rolf
Liebermann brought the house to a leading position in European
opera life, creating many interesting productions, engaging
leading singers and conductors. He also took the initiative to
produce no less than thirteen opera films, based on productions in
the house but filmed in studio. These are valuable documents of a
legendary era and besides preserving the productions for posterity
- warts and all - they are also important for the many outstanding
singers taking part. Technically they are a bit dated: the
sound is in mono and fairly primitive by today's standards,
there is a certain strident quality to the orchestra, but they are
fully listenable. The technique of filming has made considerable
advances and the sets can seem belonging to bygone days - which they of course are. However, just as
we don't dismiss Gone With the Wind or Casablanca because
they are not up to modern technical standards or the aesthetics
or acting can feel dated, we shouldn't write off these opera
films. The present Zauberflote from 1971, and a Nozze
di Figaro from four years earlier (see review), have
much to offer, both for the staging and the singing.
During the overture the preliminary credits are shown on a black screen
with a still of the magic flute in the background, static
and not very inspiring. The sets are stylised but in the
main realistic, albeit in a fairy-tale manner, the costumes
are a mix: Sarastro and the priests in long white timeless
kaftans, Monostatos and his men black-faced and in fanciful
costumes, Pamina wears a simple white dress, modern in the
late 1960s. Tamino has a vaguely Mediaeval red suit with
chest and shoulders covered by a kind of armour and Papageno
and Papagena are colourfully feathered.
The fairy-tale elements of the story are further enhanced
by the 'realistic' dragons in the opening scene - yes, Ustinov has engaged two, where
most directors content themselves with one; the libretto
of course says 'Schlange' (snake). There are numerous fanciful
animals in the act 1 finale when Tamino plays his flute and
the three boys arrive by air balloon, driven by two small
propellers. Incidentally it is interesting to compare this
production with Ingmar Bergman's marginally later film, where
there is an almost identical balloon. The libretto says in
the second act that they come in 'einem mit Rosen bedeckten
Flugwerk' (a flying apparatus covered with roses) but I wonder
if it is only coincidental. There are some other details
too that lead me to think that Bergman knew the Ustinov production.
Both versions have their own ingenious features; the interplay
between the recalcitrant Papageno and the Second Priest gradually
develops into a farce, where the priest tries to get some
of Papageno's wine. When Papageno sings his second act aria Ein
Madchen oder Weibchen, he 'accompanies' the glockenspiel,
playing with knife and fork on glasses and bowls.
A fairy-tale it is, to some extent at least, and as such it deals
with the fight between Good and Evil. The problem with Die
Zauberflote is that it is not completely clear who is
good and who is bad, or rather, that the perspective changes.
The three ladies are dressed in traditional black but with
one black hand and one red, to indicate some ambiguity, but
they belong to The Queen of the Night, as does Monostatos
and his gang. But the QotN first stands out as the wronged
and not until we meet the mysterious Speaker, dressed in
white, in that musically remarkable scene where it gradually
dawns upon Tamino that not everything is as he had believed.
From there the story takes a new direction. The logic and
the underlying meaning of this play have been debated for
200 years but with hindsight one could almost believe Schikaneder
to be the first fantasy writer. One thing there is no doubt
about: the music is absolutely marvellous and redeems obscurity
and lack of logic.
And musically this performance has many attractive features.
Horst Stein's conducting is straightforward and well paced.
There is some scrappy string playing but in general there
are no
complaints, apart from the recording which places the orchestra
in an unfavourable light. The voices are quite closely miked
and we had some argument whether it was singback or not.
There were some signs hinting at a slight lack of synchronization,
but in the end we decided that it was the real sound we saw
and heard.
The soloists comprise an impressive line-up of great names.
Starting in the lowest department the young Hans Sotin is
a human
Sarastro, singing with lyrical beauty and great warmth. There
is little room for expressive acting in this part but Sotin
radiates nobility. In the small but important role of the
Speaker, Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau creates a dignified but
at the same time open-minded and inquisitive character. He
does this in his usual detailed Lieder singer manner, more
restrained than many and with small almost unnoticeable changes
in facial expression. The otherwise little known William
Workman is a splendid actor, lively, with an expressive face
and he sings with a natural, earthbound elegance. He both
looks and sounds the child of nature that Papageno certainly
is. For a change Monostatos is sung by a baritone, the young
Franz Grundheber, who makes a vivid portrait of the Moor.
Nicolai Gedda's Tamino is well-known, not least from the
complete recording with Klemperer. There he was bereft of
the spoken dialogue, which he delivers with both nobility
and warmth. Often Tamino is sung by a purely lyrical tenor
with good effect but a more powerful voice adds heroic status
to the role and he sings the part gloriously. He is more
restrained as an actor, though. Edith Mathis was one of the
finest Mozart sopranos back in the 1960s and 1970s. She is
a lovely, innocent-looking Pamina, singing with the utmost
beauty. From a Queen of the Night is required a formidable
voice with easy high notes and coloratura agility. Besides
that it is enough to look mean. Cristina Deutekom is good
at that and her coloratura is among the most precise I have
heard with pearls of crystal streaming out of her throat
but her mid-register is less attractive. Carole Malone manages
to impersonate both the ugliest old woman and the cutest
Papagena one can imagine and her bird imitation when she
finally throws off her disguise is priceless. The three ladies
act well and it is nice to see Helmut Melchert and the young
Kurt Moll as the two men in armour.
The quality of the pictures is better than the
sound and we had a pleasant evening in front of the telly. As a
film the Bergman production is undoubtedly better but the singing
is not on the same level as on this issue - only Hakan Hagegaard's
Papageno and Erik Saeden's Speaker are in the same league. You may
need some indulgence as far as the technical side is concerned
but this is made up for by the singing.
Göran Forsling
Hans Sotin
(bass) - Sarastro; Nicolai Gedda (tenor) - Tamino; Dietrich
Fischer-Dieskau (baritone) - Speaker; Kurt Marschner (tenor) - First Priest; Herbert Flirther (baritone)
- Second Priest; Cristina Deutekom (soprano) - Queen of the Night; Edith
Mathis (soprano) - Pamina; Leonore Kirschstein (soprano) - First
Lady; Paula Page (mezzo) - Second Lady; Cvetka Ahlin
(contralto) - Third Lady; William Workman (baritone) - Papageno; Carol
Malone (soprano) - Papagena; Franz Grundheber (baritone) - Monostatos;
Kurt Moll (bass) and Helmut Melchert (tenor) - Two Men
in Armour; Bernd Ruter, Klaus Reimers, Axel Putz - Three
Boys 
[156:00] 
