Die Zauberflöte (The Magic Flute) was Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s last great opera, composed to a libretto by Emanuel Schikaneder in 1791, two months before his death. A persistent success, The Magic Flute remains one of the most beloved operas of all time, and includes the Queen of Night’s aria, one of Mozart’s most difficult arias to sing. This makes it the perfect inclusion for this year’s UBC Opera season, which is celebrating the 100th anniversary of the Old Auditorium.
The story seems, at first glance over the synopsis, to be a lighthearted rom-com featuring miscommunication at a Shakespearean scale and a happy ending for the heroes, which just happens to be set, somewhat arbitrarily, in Egypt. It’s likely, however, that this setting was chosen because it was thought by some to be the birthplace of the Freemasons, a fraternal society of which Mozart and Schikaneder were both members. Masonic themes can be read throughout The Magic Flute — the clerical trials the characters undergo have been argued to be representations of a Masonic initiation, and the conflict between the heroes and villains could be interpreted as an allegory for the religious conflict between Freemasonry and the Roman Catholic church. These contexts complicate the silliness of the opera and help to situate it in the historical milieu of the Enlightenment, contextualizing some aspects that are controversial to contemporary audiences, such as the opera’s misogyny and underlying racism.
Despite all this, UBC Opera’s performance of The Magic Flute was delightful entirely due to the amazing performances of the UBC Opera Ensemble accompanied by the Vancouver Opera Orchestra. The magic, comedy and wonder created by the music were only accentuated by the costumes and set design.
The opera opens with a young prince named Tamino (Hexiang Wang/Wanshuai Yu) being saved from a serpentine monster by three magical women, the Queen of Night’s three ladies. From the onset, the comedy is well-delivered, first by the ladies fighting over the charming prince who has fainted from fright, and then by Papageno (Neil Hong/Denis Petrov), a fearful birdcatcher who happens to be passing by and awakens Tamino with his pan pipes.
When the Queen of Night (Olivia Howe/Magdalena How) entered, Howe’s powerful voice made her presence felt, and the queen’s costume — a black gown with a matching feather headpiece and a three-piece veil held up by her three ladies — caught the stage lights fantastically on its shimmering fabric. However, most of the other costumes failed to have the same effect, leaning to the easily forgettable. The short skirts of the Three Ladies and Queen of Night seemed especially out of place.
The Queen assigns a quest to Tamino and Papageno, ordering them to rescue her daughter Pamina (Sarah Richardson/Tamar Simon) from the ostensibly-evil Sarastro (Jiru Wu/Liam Robertson) who has kidnapped her. Tamino, who fell passionately in love with Pamina upon seeing her portrait, accepts the quest and the gift the Queen bestows on him — a magic flute. Papageno is given magic bells and begrudgingly joins Tamino.
The opera is a singspiel, meaning that dialogue is scattered between the singing, providing ample opportunity to act through both spoken word and song. At times, the cast’s acting fell short or felt rushed, but this was never the case with Papageno or Pamina. When they meet at Sarastro’s palace, their interactions are comedic but heartfelt as they sing about love, both being single romantics. Their performance together draws you into their world and transcends the need for the projected German to English surtitles above the stage. When the pair escape Sarastro’s servant Monostatos and his slaves by using the magic bells, the slaves' chorus steals the show as they act out their unwilling dancing, enspelled by Papageno’s bells.
Meanwhile, Tamino, who seems to have fallen behind, plays his flute, beautifully conveyed by the orchestra, drawing in a host of wild animals to enjoy the music. A pair of bumblebees, a few butterflies and a lion, among other critters, are played by a chorus of children, adding to the whimsy and wonder of the opera.
It turns out that Sarastro is not evil, and has kidnapped Pamina to protect her from her mother’s corruption. The majority of the rest of the opera follows Tamino and Papageno, joined by Pamina at the end, undergoing a series of trials to join Sarastro’s priest ranks.
It is at this point that the Queen of Night performs her magnificent aria. The Queen appears to Pamina with a dagger, ordering her to murder Sarastro. Pressing the knife hilt towards her daughter and erupting in rage when she refuses, the Queen forsakes her daughter. Howe had to perfectly balance the emotion of scene with the near impossible high notes of this aria. The control needed to act the anger and turmoil of the scene while commanding the technicalities of the notes is impressive, and Howe put in an amazing performance. From a staging and directing perspective, however, the aria left something to be desired, with the Queen singing on the stage level to Pamina, robbing her of some of the gravitas that could have come from a more creative stage setup.
More trials face the couple after the Queen’s aria, which they are able to overcome with the aid of three helpful spirits and the magic flute. To no one’s surprise, Papageno fails the initiation trials, but still manages to find his romantic equal in Papagena, who after only a short stint as a loathly lady turns out to be his perfect match.
The opera ends well for the heroes. The Queen, accompanied by her three ladies and Monostatos, fails in a last attack on Sarastros, the joyful atmosphere of the opera continuing until the very end. Aside from the obvious theme of love, the opera also explores the weight of truthtelling and moral character which defies evil. The UBC Opera Ensemble delivered a lovely performance so these themes coexisted with the emotion and splendour of the singing.
