Arts & Events

The current San Francisco Opera production of Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte (The Magic Flute), whose second performance of this spring season I attended on Sunday, June 2, is yet another example, perhaps even the most egregious example yet seen, of directorial overreach, a phenomenon that unfortunately has marked — one might say marred — Mathew Shilvock’s tenure as SF Opera’s General Director. In his search for new interpretations of opera’s standard repertoire, Shilvock seems obsessively drawn to modern takes on operas from earlier periods, thereby introducing often outrageous interpretations that diverge far from the opera’s original place in history. In the current production of The Magic Flute, directed by Barrie Kosky and Suzanne Andrade, it is nominally set in Berlin in 1927 and offers myriad references to German Expressionist silent films as well as Hollywood silent films and early experiments in animation. 

But many of these directorial choices are decidedly wrong-headed. For example, the choice to have Pamina portrayed as a Louise Brooks lookalike is extremely misguided. Louise Brooks is mostly famous for her roles in the films Pandora’s Box and Lulu, two roles that portray highly dangerous, even misogynist versions of womanhood. In Mozart’s Magic Flute Pamina is, or should be, a sweetly innocent, naïve yet utterly sincere young woman who finds true love that guides her to take the right path in this opera’s plot. Portraying Pamina as a Louise Brooks lookalike is just totally wrongheaded. On the other hand, likening the vile, lustful Monostatos to German film’s Nosferatu is just a film buff’s allusion that few audiences will catch much less approve. Further, the huge preponderance of animated visuals in this production simply distracts from the music— as conductor Eun Sun Kim acknowledged is what happened to her at this production’s first rehearsal, a remark she made in Sunday’s post-opera public discuss\on. Moreover, by adding extremely fanciful elements, the animation can easily overwhelm audiences, often in the worst way. One flagrant example of this is when Papageno laments that in his initiation trials there is no wine, animation suddenly offers him a gigantic wineglass filled not with wine but a pink cocktail, which he downs avidly, then has visions of pink flying elephants reminiscent of Dumbo. What this has to do with Mozart is utterly unfathomable. Finally, this production’s intertitles occasionally reverse the libretto’s meaning. One flagrant example of this is when Papageno sings of wishing for a girlfriend or little wife, and in Shkaneder’s libretto Papageno says if he had a woman he’d have no interest in dining with princes. However, this production’s intertitles change this to “I’d be dining with princes.” This change is unconscionable, for as a simple man of the common people, Papageno clearly has no desire to dine with princes. 

Where the singing is concerned, this Magic Flute offered one outstanding performance, that of Polish soprano Anna Simińska as The Queen of the Night. However, the animators’ portrayal of this character as a giant spider-woman prevented the audience from seeing Anna Simińska as she sang, offering only an animated vision of a huge spider. While Simińska’s Act II aria “Der Hölle Rache” was sung splendidly, Simińska’s Act I aria began faintly, as if from a vast, removed distance, which should not be the case. However, Simińska quickly picked up the volume, and henceforth her singing was powerful and dramatic. In the role of Tamino, Samoan-born tenor Amitai Pati used his light lyric tenor well, though sometimes failing to project his voice powerfully. As Pamina, Austrian soprano Christina Gansch was more than creditable though not outstanding in any way. As Papageno German baritone Lauri Vasar was excellent, though the fact this opera’s dialogue was not spoken but rendered only in intertitles robbed his Papageno of some of his funniest comic lines. (This decision to render the spoken dialogue as intertitles was part of the directors’ misguided effort to emulate the world of silent films.) Papagena was sung creditably by soprano Arianna Rodriguez. 

In the role of Sarastro, South Korean bass Kwangcul Youn occasionally failed to project his bass voice on the lowest notes, but he was otherwise fine. As the evil Monostatos, Chinese tenor Zengy Bai was creditable; and the Three Ladies were admirably sung by soprano Olivia Smith, mezzo-soprano Ashley Dixon, and mezzo-soprano Marie Therese Carmack. The Three Boys (or Spirits), were admirably sung by boy-sopranos Niko Min, Solah Mali, and Jacob A. Rainow. Chorus Director John Keene led the Opera Chorus in a fine performance. Conductor Eun Sun Kim adroitly held together all the varied musical styles Mozart employed in this opera and found the unifying thread that makes the music all come together, even, in this case, in spite of all the diverting nonsense of the animation. Brief excerpts from Mozart’s Fantasias for Pano K. 475 in C-minor and K, 397 in D-minor were heard as transitional music. Though these excerpts were by Mozart, they were decidedly out of place in this opera.