A not so magical flute

BOV Opera Festival

The Magic Flute
Manoel Theatre

Die Zauberflote is one of Mozart’s last works belonging to that dark period when the world seemed to be closing in on him. The singspiel that was commissioned by Schikaneder who also wrote the libretto was one that was steeped in Masonic imagery and language and it was hoped that this divertimento would attract the very influential Masonic patronage that Mozart needed so badly in Vienna. Despite the apparent lightness and frivolity of the whole fairytale there are many instances of darkness and even more instances of poignancy in both the score and the libretto. There are also moments of heavenly harmonies. I believe it was GB Shaw who said that Sarastro’s aria O Isis und Osiris was the only one he knew of that could be put in the mouth of God without blasphemy but I digress as usual from the work in hand which is to assess last week’s production and performance at the Manoel Theatre as the grand finale to the BoV Opera festival.
Let us take the concept of having it sung in German and recited in English when there are perfectly brilliant translations of the sung bits in English. With practically an all Maltese cast I am sure the English version would have facilitated things enormously. Maybe the rights to the score were difficult to obtain? I wouldn’t know; however, the mixture of languages was annoying and unnecessary.
We had some superb music making. The cast was mostly Maltese with the exception of Tamino and the Queen of the Night. They were superb, as was the direction and timbre of the Malta Philharmonic Orchestra under Michael Laus’s baton. I especially enjoyed both the singing and the acting of Papageno, Kevin Caruana, whose humanity and exuberance is in sharp contrast to Tamino’s high-mindedness and prevents the action from becoming priggish. Gillian Zammit’s Pamina was lovely both musically and visually; a real princess in the true sense of the word; however, princesses do not usually wear patch pockets unless they are pretending to be Cinderella.
Noel Galea’s Sarastro occasionally looking too much like a Monsignor for comfort was beautifully rounded and the two great arias were splendidly performed. His sense of gravitas laws in sharp contrast to the lackluster presence of the Queen of the Night performed by Conchi Moyano. The Queen’s is a notoriously difficult role with two arias that are literally mindboggling. Moyano managed both with a couple of uncertain intonations but lacked the spite and malice usually associated with the part. Jonathan Boyd’s Tamino was perfect but looked anything but an Egyptian prince! His voice was nicely rounded and just the perfect type to pull off those delicately scored arias, such Mozartian rarities when compared to his compositions for baritone, but complete gems.
Maria Abela’s voice although lovely is simply not a Papagena one. It is too mature and velvety and overblew the simplicity of the role which rather resembles Barbarina’s in Nozze. Why she was made to look like a heap of sacking goodness knows.
The ensembles were the best feature of the evening. The Three Ladies sung by Claire Caruana, Rosabelle Bianchi and Clare Ghigo were superb, as were the Priests, James Vella Bondin and Charles Vella Zarb. Whenever these combined with the principals the effect was magical. It was the chorus that I found a trifle disappointing especially the men.
The least said about the production the better. There are plenty of benchmarks that are readily available at the push of a button to inspire an original, attractive and above all homogenous production; Kenneth Branagh and Ingmar Bergman immediately spring to mind and there have been hundreds of others since 1791! Visually the production was uninteresting and the costumes a mish mash. It looked as if stage director and lighting and costume designer, Miriam Gauci must have been given an infinitesimal budget to work with and the result would have been excusable had it been a school production but not one that should have been put on at the Manoel Theatre as the only local one. Why was the Monster a man in a black leotard and not a serpent as it always is? Why was not Monostatos a blackamoor as he has always been? The set’s only association with Ancient Egypt where the action was supposed to have taken place specifically “ near the temple of Isis in the reign of Ramses I”, was the juxtaposition of the ubiquitous lone palm tree; no pylons, no obelisks no pyramids. As for the costumes… words fail me. A complete jumble of styles from different periods as if salvaged from a costume hiring service. It is inconceivable in this day and age that a national theatre can put on such a drab and unimaginative sole major local production in a sole annual opera festival when only across the Gozo channel there are two band clubs that have recently regaled us with utterly splendid ones and have been doing so every year for decades! Is it possible that this is the best the Manoel Theatre can come up with?
I was pleased to see that the great and the good turned out in full force. Usually during musical events the boxes reserved for the President, Prime Minister and Culture Minister are sadly empty. The fact that all three were there with their guests was possibly an indication that culture will be given more importance than it has so far in this legislation and maybe Mrs Cristina will be given a parliamentary secretary to ensure that next time around the one local annual national operatic production will be of an international standard.

Source: Weekender, March 28, 2009