If you give children the keys to the sweet shop don’t be surprised
if they over-indulge themselves. I wonder if director and costume
designer Julie Taymar and her set designer, George Tsypin, felt
that way when commissioned by the Metropolitan Opera to design
and stage a new Die Zauberflöte for presentation, in
German, in 2004. It was certainly a spectacular using every
stage and technical device the Met has and then some in terms
of the flying animals, a wriggling serpent, a big cuddly bear
and a host of other stage-effects. Then there are the costumes.
Some, like Sarastro’s early appearance would look better on
a dinosaur; his later costume is more appropriate. The stage
rotates and the spectacle gets better and better. It must have
cost a bomb. No wonder the credits for the funding take up a
lot of the back of the box. There is no other booklet to tell
us anything else about this production which was sung in English
and why; consequently nor are there any printed Chapter details
or timings.
It is certainly strange to see Jimmy Levine in the pit. It was
he, I remember, conducting this opera at Salzburg in the early
nineteen-eighties who included nearly all the spoken dialogue
to give one of the longest performances of the opera since,
I suspect, the premiere in Schikaneder’s tiny Theater auf der
Wieden all those years ago. Now here he is conducting a performance
just over 110 minutes long when a standard opera house might
take another forty minutes or so and doubtless did for the original
staging of this production, sung in German, in 2004. I suspect
this abbreviation, and the singing in English, had something
to do with children and the pantomime season. Certainly, given
the spectacle, there would be no need for parents to venture
onto Broadway for a special treat. The abbreviations are mainly,
but not solely, of the extensive dialogue with arias also abbreviated
or omitted. The performance was played without a break between
acts.
Some soloists remain from the German sung premiere of the production
in 2004. None are the stars of this show. Matthew Polenzani
as Tamino is no Mozart tenor on this showing, lacking mellifluousness
as well as much elegance of phrasing in his abbreviated Portrait
aria (CH.5). Erika Miklósa, looking spectacular as Queen
of the Night, was sadly lacking in the lower tones of her voice
whilst coping much better with the high-flying coloratura. This
meant that her Act One aria was barely acceptable as she struggled
to give any body to her voice below the stave (CH.7). The more
spectacular act two appearance, where many sopranos slip up,
was much more acceptable (CH.25). René Pape’s Sarastro was a
disappointment although his English was better than his adversary
Queen. He struggled with his tone and phrasing (CHs.17 and 28)
often failing to reach his lower notes and inject some sonority.
Dressed as some kind of bird of prey, or even a bat, Greg Fedderly’s
Monostatos, complete with tattooed beer belly and man boobs
that would have made any pubescent teenage girl jealous, played
his part well (CH.28) but was less impressive vocally.
The major success of this English language abbreviation was
to be found in the wonderfully acted light-toned and expressive
baritone of Nathan Gunn, particularly in the episode when Papageno
is threatening to hang himself (CH.39). His Papagena was vivaciously
acted and sung by Jennifer Aylmer (CH.39) whilst Ying Huang
as Pamina was a delight throughout with a nicely phrased aria
(CH.32). The three women, albeit in somewhat silly costumes,
were fine.
As I have indicated, the stage effects were often spectacular
although I have seen the trials by water and fire done better
(CH.38). With Levine knowing this opera like the back of his
hand, he paced the music as to the manner born with the orchestra
following every nuance of his baton.
Robert J Farr