Southern Opera’s production of Mozart’s whimsical and beautiful opera,  recently performed at the Theatre Royal,  got the full sci fi treatment complete with Star Trek screens and noises. I was bemused by the overly elaborate staging and found it overworked, with a lot of distracting gimmicks. What looked to this viewer like a bank of blue portaloos, I have since found out was a representation of Sarastro’s temple! This left me somewhat confused at times  and I came away feeling I needed to read up on the opera. It now makes a lot more sense, as I’m clearer on the Masonic overtones.

Exterior view of the Theatre Royal, Christchurch, prior to opening

Nevertheless the CSO was fantastic and Papageno (Jared Holt) and the Queen of Night (Emma Pearson) were outstanding, the Queen of the Night hitting incredibly high notes with ease and grace.  The Solid Energy chorus was powerful and nothing could ruin Mozart’s glorious music. Ultimately it was a great experience.

The grand old Theatre Royal has not lost its magic for me it is always a comforting step back into the past. 

For further information about this Christchurch treasure, go to their website, or there is interesting material at the library on its history.

The stage is decorated with butterflies, moths and snakes of every hue, heralding the musical kaleidoscope that is about to fill the hall.  An orchestra excitedly assembles, with flutes, keyboards, bassoon, horn, cellos, double-bass, violins, trumpets and percussion – all shepherded by OAE musicians.  I am in the Wiltshire Music Centre in Bradford-on-Avon, about to witness a truly unique musical occasion – as animateur James Redwood puts it in his introduction, “This is the only time this will ever happen!”

“This” is a reworking of Mozart’s Magic Flute – the culmination of a week’s intensive work involving around 350 young people at St Laurence’s School – where Head of Music Kate Rowe leads what is clearly a thriving music department.  The Hall begins to fill with droves of fellow pupils and it’s obvious that music isn’t a minority pursuit around here, at least.  The lights dim, a hush descends and the OAE Musicians play a deft arrangement of Mozart’s overture – to which four very accomplished young dancers perform an elegantly choreographed prelude to the action.  There then unfolds a mosaic of music, dance and drama, linked by James’ narrative, and interleaving Mozart’s music with new music created specially for the project, seamlessly interweaving.  The taut rhythms and contours of the new music counterpoint spirited renditions from the original score – including a splendid Bird-Catcher’s Song from a 50-strong chorus at the side of the stage, and young vocal soloists singing alongside professionals Fiona Evans and Philip Tebb.  Even the logistics of getting hundreds of performers on and off the stage and into and out of seats in the auditorium transform into a piece of theatre. My journey – involving two car trips, four tube journeys, four trains and two taxis – is worth every yard of the way, and I can’t wait to hear what’s planned for next year!

Duke Dobing, Development Director

Is this Tuesday? I’ve been walking all day, just drifting, one foot in front of the other, one vista revealing the next: stunning streetscapes, churches, fountains, cobbled side streets … every other vehicle a horse-drawn carriage (fiaker), elegantly dressed women and men … and countless cafés. I thought that the latter would become my favourites, but it’s the gelato palaces (ice cream parlours), all seemingly run by Italians with at least 40 flavours on tap, that have caught my fancy. Two creamy scoops for 1.90€ ($3).

“For all its grandiosity,” the Rough Guide confirms, “Vienna is a surprisingly compact city: the centre is just a kilometre across at its broadest point.” I found this out by accident, began walking at 9:30 this morning and, with the exception of an outdoor lunch and a whipped cream-topped kaffee, been in motion till now at 17:07. I’m not good with maps and directions and must have traversed the city centre more than once, literally walking in circles. 

Within 45 minutes of arrival last night, the concierge had found me a fine seat for the evening’s performance of Mozart’s opera The Magic Flute. The Volksoper was filled to the rafters — and that on a Monday night. Ticket prices ranged from $3 to $275, the cheapest meant for students, way up in the nosebleed fifth balcony, standing room only. The play comes in two acts with a 20-minute intermission, just enough time for a piccolo of champagne. The plot is intricate and (for me) hard to follow (click for a synopsis), but the music pure delight. I recognized many of the arias and may have hummed, tapped, even sung along. Costumes and sets were stunning and at one point I counted 60 singers on stage, not including the tenor, soprano, coloratura, baritone, base, as well as three lads from the Vienna Boys’ Choir. All that stimulation notwithstanding, I may have nodded off half-way through the second act.

Enough already. As you can see, I’m fully immersed and enjoying this ’vacation’ (from Latin, meaning freedom or release, being free from duty). Tonight, perhaps, a movie around the corner (the Julia Child one) and for tomorrow a ring-side seat for the matinée show at the Circus (in the big red tent in front of city hall). Not sure which museum I’ll visit (there are 96 in all!). I don’t do well in crowds, but wouldn’t mind seeing works of the Wiener Moderne painters Schiele, Klimt, and Kokoschka up close.

Painting by Egon Schiele (1890-1918) of a fellow-painter, done when he was only 20 years old.

Still thinking about the New York Times Article “Mind:  When Parent’s ‘I Love You’ Means ‘Do As I Say’, by  Alfie Kohn (published September 14, 2009) now in the context of Die Zauberflote (The Magic Flute), by Mozart.  (I saw a dress rehearsal today of the Met’s wonderful production, designed by Julie Taymor.)

The story does not make much sense:  there is the romantic prince hero, Tamino, and the pragmatic everyman hero, Papageno, the conniving, deceptive, alluring, mother, the Queen of the Night, and the wise but endlessly testing father figure-cum-holyman-cum wizard guy (with a very deep voice) Sarastro, and too, the beautiful soprano Pamina who is a bit of a pawn swapped among them.

There is much that is supernatural:  the Queen’s helpers who in Taymor’s production sport oversized (almost Mayan looking) mask faces; the Three Spirits, little boys in underwear with bleached spiked hair and long wispy beards, who ride on a puppeteered flying bird, the birds themselves, dancers with flamingo heads, and ballet-slippered stilts.

There are slaves and betrayals and endless, seemingly arbitrary tests of character, meant (a) to purify the suitors, and (b) to separate the wheat from the chaff—that is, the strong, manly, silent types from chatty pragmatic everymen but more importantly from deceptive wiley women.  Wisdom and love, and some really great robes and headgear, are the prize.

While the story highlights the importance of steadfastness, bravery, self-discipline, the ultimate savior is music.  The power of music is represented by the magic flute given to the princely Tamino (oddly by the bad Queen of the Night), the magic bells or glockenspiel, given to Papageno, the pure songs of the Spirits.  But, overwhelming all of that is the sublime, beautiful music of the opera itself, composed by Mozart towards the end of his life.

This time, watching the opera, looking at the subtitles, trying (a teeny bit) to make sense of the story, I could not help but think of the New York Times article about parental love, and the effects of negative and positive conditioning, particularly, negative conditioning;  described in the article as parental withholding of affection to make children mind.

Die Zauberflote, which, of course, is in German, is a model of positive and negative conditioning (mainly negative).  Love is repeatedly withheld, both by authority figures, and even lovers themselves; punishment is meted out. Papageno, at the opening of the Opera, gets a padlock attached to his lips to teach him not to tell lies;  the Queen of the Night curses her daughter to make her try to kill Sorastro;  Tamino himself, must withhold affection from Pamina to pass his wisdom test;  the wizardly Sorastro says that vengeance does not live in the temple of wisdom, but also orders his bad servant, Monostatos, to get one hundred lashes; Papageno is threatened with a life of bread, water and imprisonment if he doesn’t give his hand to the withered old lady who is the disguised Papagena; Papageno is also nearly struck by lightening for chattering;  and even Tamino’s whole testing regimen is a bit of a punishment, arising from his original distrust of Sarasto and allegiance to the Queen of the Night.

It’s hard to come up with the positive conditioning–it’s mainly there in the form of false promises, I suppose, the promises of the Queen of the Night in particular.  (Praise and offers of rewards which should not be believed.)

In short, the path to love and wisdom and truth winds in and out of punishment, withheld affection, and artful alluring deception.   It’s a path that can only be negotiated through discipline, and with the help, the wondrous, miraculous help, of music.

Okay, it’s a cliché.  (And yes, I did see Amadeus)  But I couldn’t help thinking of the young Mozart, practicing the harpsichord  under the stern eye of his father, then overcoming all obstacles in his path (the crowned heads of Europe, but also that very same father) with the marvelous music he played and created.

In the opera, there is a bit of an exemption from all the discipline for the less high;   Papageno, the everyman, who says he doesn’t need to inhabit the exalted halls of wisdom for happiness, but is content with a glass of wine and a little turtledove wife, has slightly lesser trial.  These are passed by energy, good humor, loyalty, and, of course, the miraculous power of music;  in this case, the magic glockenspiel.

I sure wish I had one.

Students pose for photographers

By Phyllis Stephen

Edinburgh College of Art’s (ECA) fashion show is usually a sell-out. It has been running for more than fifty years and is a key date in the capital’s art calendar.

It takes place at the college on 6-8th May this year. One of the key parts of the show is the work of the graduating students on performance costumes. The college held a photo shoot at the National Gallery to showcase some of these wonderful costumes.  I went along for Edinburgh Napier News and was struck by both the workmanship and  the attention to detail.

The costumes on show were for Pierette from The Affair at Victory Ball by Agatha Christie by Rebecca Hywel-Jones, for Susanna from the Marriage of Figaro by Peggy Jones, for The Duchess from the Duchess of Malfi by local Edinburgh girl Emily Raemaekers and for Pamina from the operetta The Magic Flute by Eleanor Welch.

Tickets for the show are £15 and will likely be snapped up quickly. They are available from The Hub.

Other than the performance costumes we are told that, “The catwalk, as ever, will be fast and furious. On-trend, but always a little bit ‘out there’, ECA Fashion Show 2009 will feature edgy, sculptural designs, sexy, grown-up womenswear, and the kind of one-off, craft-based pieces that London buyers are currently clamouring for.

“ECA Fashion Show 2009 will present the final collections of students graduating in Fashion and Performance Costume, as well as collaborative projects with the Textiles department. These will be shown alongside the mini-collections of 2nd and 3rd Year students.

Edinburgh College of Art has an international reputation as one of the most successful independent art colleges in the UK.  The College is known for its creativity, its co-operative atmosphere and its people – one recent graduate described the College as ‘an ideas factory’.

For Edinburgh Napier News Rebecca Jamieson interviewed Emily Raemaekers. See video.

We stride on two levels, I think. There’s the domestic life, the day-to-day, the gainings of friendships and expertise. And then there’s the moment of deep insight, a flash of a hidden facet – the pattern of a façade, a new interpretation of a famous piece of music, that makes you believe you’ve comprehended the shape of things.

On Valentine’s Day, my fiancée and I attended the first opera I’d seen in many years – Mozart’s The Magic Flute, performed by the Yale Opera. It was truly a production for our age, a thing of very high quality indeed. It managed to translate Mozart’s Enlightenment philosophies perfectly into the contemporary idiom, while flashing additional little insights from the right now. The costuming of this Singspiel spoke volumes: Pamino in burgundy, Tamina in a blue-white gown reminiscent of Snow White; male choristers in turbans, female choristers in Women’s Temperance League hats, the Three Spirits as American Revolutionaries, and Papageno and Papagena – the true scene-and-show-stealers in both panache and vocal quality – birds of a feather in 19th-century French Bohemian linens.

When you put it that way, and remember that Die Zauberflöte premiered on September 30, 1791, it’s pretty easy to gather what Mozart might have been thinking about: music as the magical, reconciling element, enlightening society and freeing it from slavery. (An excellent added touch: as Tamino and Pamina ascend to the wedding altar, the three Revolutionary Sprites are ring-bearers, and don the coats of Colonial statesmen as they bring forth the wedding rings.)

Papageno is normally interpreted as the earthy Everyman, a one-man parodic ensemble of false bravado, layabout and souse. And, most often, he’s clothed in the green, parrot-like feathers of the literal-minded fantasist. But in the YSO’s production, he was a counterculture wit, a raconteur, a Lothario, and a bon vivant too. Astride the idealized journey of the principals, he became the charismatic focus: the counterpointed comedic lament of the Young Individual who, by Fortune’s force, must unwillingly accompany Tamino on his quest.

I want to hear some pa-pa-pa. Don’t you? Here they are, in another interesting interpretation, with Papageno and Papagena finding each other late in life:

Opera is a thing of grand passions, of ideas that aspire to the universal – the willed modeling of intense emotion and great themes into something of sublime pleasure for the ear and eye. In these times – which we must describe as epic – opera is a living and vital element of the right now, even as it sings of epics past.

This is why I’m so intrigued by the orchestration of Travel Dynamics International’s Mediterranean opera cruise, which will run from September 30-October 9, 2009. (Venice, Ancona, Split, Dubrovnik, Santorini, Rhodes, Ephesus, Athens – on the Corinthian II, “the gold standard of expedition cruising,” including all meals, drinks, lectures, performances, and shore excursions, private-car transfer to the airport, free night in Athens, and a complimentary CD of an unreleased performance at Carnegie Hall, rates available here.)

A special guest for this cruise is Marilyn Horne, who has been one of America’s most beloved opera singers during her four-decade career (over 1,300 recitals). It’s an occasion in honor of Ms. Horne’s 75th birthday and the 15th anniversary of the Marilyn Horne Foundation, a nonprofit she founded to ensure that young singers in this new millennium have the same opportunities she had, and that the vocal recital remains a viable and living art form in this country.

She’s selected six extraordinary young talents to join her, representing the future of opera in America.

Indeed, this cruise is itself a work of art, a fine classical performance with an outstanding ensemble cast. There’s Fred Plotkin, author of Opera 101, himself a raconteur and bon vivant who, like Papageno, loves wine and food (so much so he’s written over two dozen books on the really dolce vita of Italian food, wine, opera, classical music, and “Italy for the gourmet traveler”). He’s a renaissance man with a passion for the Italian region of Friuli-Venezia Giulia. Since that’s where this cruise begins, you can expect him to be on fine form – an exuberant gourmand with an ear for music.

Also on board will be Columbia professor Alan Cameron. In 2005, Prof. Cameron was awarded the Lionel Trilling Book Award for his study Greek Mythography in the Roman World. The book describes how ancient Romans came to learn the Greek mythical structure.

“What Alan Cameron does is to follow his own curiosity,” said one of Cameron’s colleagues, instead of “worrying about what other people are working on.”

What is this cruise? It’s doing some very interesting things, isn’t it. To me, it isn’t just about food and wine and art and “the luxury experience” (whatever that means) but, literally, about the good life. Which isn’t about how much you’ve got, but what varied experiences you’ve had. And what stories you’ll enjoy telling.

It’s about translation – translating myth into music, narrative into song (and from original libretto to modern English surtitling, even) – translating music into food (“if food be the music of love, play on”) and food into life, translating Greek philosophy into Roman life, translating scholarship to the non-academic public, and translating culture from one generation to the next, from one culture to the next. (After all, every American generation is its own culture.) This is the music of travel, its unifying of arts, for the health of the culture.

This 1988 production by Nicholas Hytner works very well indeed. The large-scale designs by Bob Crowley are wonderful: a huge curved wall that opens at a jagged join, Egyptian hieroglyphs standing out on white marble walls and cut into a bronze backdrop, superb gowns embossed with hieroglyphs for Sarastro’s priests, and wonderful lighting designed by Nick Chelton. The star of the show was Roderick Williams as a wonderfully engaging Papageno in superb voice. His appearance in a bird costume set the scene for his future antics, and the real birds landing on his birdcage only added to the charm of this production. As Pamina we had Sarah-Jane Davies in Act I, replaced by Mairéad Buicke in Act II, who sang well, but with more vibrato than I would like. Robert Lloyd was a fine Sarastro, with strong stage presence, Robert Murray a rather emotionless Tamino, and Emily Hindrichs a queen of the night with strong if somewhat screechy coloratura. Amanda Forbes was Papagena, and Stuart Kale a suitably nasty Monostatos, who evidently took delight in the booing he attracted at the end. The orchestra played beautifully under the direction of Erik Nielsen, who seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.

Sara and I went to see the Magic Flute last night at the Komische Oper and it was fabulous!  Quite, quite strange; as in, the flute was a giant penis, there were ball-sack bells and at one point the queen ripped off her breast… all while singing Mozart fantastically.  So you can watch a video short of the performance on the link I posted above… and I really suggest you do because my descriptions really are no substitute!  The opera is quite easy to get to from my house so I’m thinking that I should go more often.  They have all sorts of cool performances and all of them are weird (hence the ‘komische’ bit)… and since it’s opera, it’s okay not to understand all the german.

If you see a soprano sing this aria and nailed it, what a coloratura she really is. But this time is different. World-champion whistler Geert Chatrou performs “Der Hölle Rache” from Mozart’s Magic Flute. Found it via  NYTimes critic Steve Smith’s blog nightafternight.com, and it’s really a WOWer.

As I promised

I did some experiments with iLife’s Garage Band that came with the new Macbook, and I recorded a Mozart’s magic flute duet.

I first played the first voice, and then the second one. The most difficult thing was to sync them, because although I wore headphones to hear the first voice while I played the second, it was difficult to know when I was going to play the first note.

I will record a few more duets soon, so stay tuned!

Could anyone tell me how they’ll do that?

I was having dinner with friends when I thought to pick-up the Circuit for the month of September. I was shocked when I found out that Magic Flute.. yes… the Opera.. is coming to CCP… yes… Mozart!!

I didn’t digest it first when my friend told  brought it up in the table… then all of the sudden, I was like: “Magic Flute, queen of the night?! Mozart! are they sure? WTF?!?!”

It’s one thing to bring a production to Manila.. it’s another if it’s Mozart.

Now… Although I am glad Opera is becoming a fad (PPO series, Harana, etc. ) I wonder how they’ll do it as I’m hearing they’ll be putting puppets ala Avenue Q… And if they’ll do it in English considering it is originally German.

I am too intrigued to see who plays the queen. In my opinion, only Beverly Salviejo could pull it off in the local scene… She is the only one I know.. that’s why I’m excited to see other local operatic talents..

I hope it doesn’t end up like “Into the woods” local production… great play… disappointment.

People could get tickets from Philippine Opera Company (892-8786), TicketWorld (891-9999) or CCP Box Office (832-1125 loc. 1801-1806).

It’s running from Sept 19-27 and I heard they even got morning scheds…

Mozart’s opera Die Zauberflöte (The Magic Flute) was his final opera. Of all of his works, this opera is one of his greatest and one of the most well-known.

The role of the Queen of the Night, which is sing by a dramatic coloratura soprano is famous for its difficulty. A particularly demanding aria is the Queen of the Night’s “Der Hölle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen” (“The vengeance of hell boils in my heart”), which reaches a high F. Whether they can sing it or not, everyone takes a crack at this aria:

Florence Foster Jenkins was a wealthy socialite and benefactor of the arts in the first half of the 20th century. She recorded her renditions of classical vocal works to give as gifts to friends. Here she sings Mozart’s aria “Queen of the Night”.

Parrots like to repeat what they hear people around them saying. I wonder who this parrot’s owner is.

Now I don’t know why someone would make a child learn this aria, but listen to this boy soprano. He is very accurate with the pitches and without the dramatic intent, he performs this aria very well in recital format.

Now for the real deal. Diana Damrau is the best I have seen (I haven’t seen everyone one, so don’t be offended if you like someone more.) She is scary as hell and sings the crap out of this aria. Not to mention that she looks fierce.

Check out YouTube for more Queen of the Nigh clips. See a production of The Magic Flute, because it’s awesome!

Among the wildly psychedelic Saturday morning cartoons of 1969 to 1970 existed the live animated series by Sid and Marty Kroft. My favorite one as a boy was H.R. PufnStuf.

It was like an LSD trip on TV  to describe the visual sensory experience.  The colors of the show were bright and vivid. The story was about a boy name Jimmy ( played by Jack Wild , Artful Dodger in the Musical- Oliver) who finds a magical talking flute named Freddy ( all kinds of Freudian images here!). Then he gets into a boat that turns into some evil trap by an witch named Witchipoo ( an unfortunate nickname my brothers and I  used on our sister when we teased her). The ship kidnaps them to this island.

Well, they come under the protection of this Dragon mayor named PufnStuf (  a Zillion times cooler than Barney) who helps them fight the witch and tries to get them back home. Yea, that was pretty good adventure for back then!

Where is good old PufnStuf when we need him?  Can he do anything about these high gas prices?

Es ist in der Stadt nicht zu übersehen: die Zauberflöte fährt U-Bahn. Und genau wie Tausende von Menschen U-Bahn fahren können, ist die Oper von Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart den Massen zugänglich gemacht worden. Statt düsterer Symbolik und märchenhaften Visionen erfährt das Publikum einfallslosen Slapstick und klischeehafte Charakterführung. Eine Mischung aus aktuellen Bezügen und der Originalmusik aus der Oper sind wohl das Inszenierungskonzept von Christoph Hagel gewesen, welcher die Alltagswelt der U-Bahn und die schillernde, aber schwer zugängliche Welt der Opern vereinigen wollte. Schade, dass dabei die Magie der Zauberflöte buchstäblich flöten gegangen ist. Doch den Massen hat es gefallen und wem das nicht passt, der sollte sich vor der glatzköpfigen Königin der Nacht in Acht nehmen… Sie ist bewaffnet…

Fotos: Oliver Wia

Die Zauberflöte in der U-Bahn

26. April – 25. Mai 2008

U-Bahnhof Bundestag

www.die-zauberfloete-in-der-u-bahn.de