“Must-see” is an overused superlative. But in the case of Los Angeles Opera’s new production of Mozart’s “The Magic Flute,” it is totally appropriate. You must see it to believe it.
With its unique blend of fantasy, fairy tale and core message of universal brotherhood, “The Magic Flute” has long been a touchstone for great productions. In recent opera history, it has stimulated memorable interpretations by such auteur directors and designers as David Hockney, Julie Taymor, Maurice Sendak and Gerald Scarfe, whose vibrant production for L.A. Opera debuted in 1993.
L.A. Opera had planned to revive its Scarfe production as part of the 2013-2014 season. But when word reached the company about a remarkable new “Magic Flute” conceived by the London-based theater company 1927, in collaboration with Komische Oper Berlin, that plan was put on hold.
We can all be thankful that it was because on Saturday, this eye-opening, eye-popping, sumptuously sung production, directed by Suzanne Andrade and Barrie Kosky, with animation designed by Paul Barritt, dazzled the audience at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion. And it did it in a way so fresh and clever that it is irresistible.
Its visual scheme combines elements from silent movies, pop art and the early days of cartoons. And while it is a production that definitely pushes the envelope, it never loses sight of the profound message that lies at the heart of Mozart’s opera: that there is a brotherhood of man and that love (especially through the power of music) can transform the world.
Esther Bialas’ stage design is simplicity itself: a single white wall inset with five revolving doors, one at stage level and four above. But it quickly becomes apparent that this is not just a white wall, it is a movie screen onto which an entire world of fantasy is projected, a world where projections and singers interact seamlessly, whether it’s the thought-bubbles that pop from their heads or a pair of animated hounds who tug on an animated leash in the grip of a very live singer.
It’s a style drawn (literally) from the gothic pen-and-ink creations of Edward Gorey (think of the credits for the PBS series “Mystery!”); the fantastical “Wild Things” of Sendak; and the zany animation (and sexual titillation) of Terry Gilliam (of Monty Python fame). Blend it all with the era of silent movies and you get a Papageno (Rodion Pogossov) who resembles Buster Keaton, and a demonic Monostatos (Rodell Rosel) who stalks the stage as a bloodless Nosferatu. The parallel to silent films is further enhanced through the opera’s recitatives, which have been freely arranged and are performed on a clinkety upright piano by Tamara Sanikidze.
The costumes (also by Bialas) place the action in the Edwardian era. Tamino (Lawrence Brownlee) wears a tuxedo, while mighty Sarastro (Evan Boyer) and his followers appear as stern fathers of the Industrial Revolution decked out in identical frock coats and stovepipe hats.
In a brilliant stroke of editing, the opera’s spoken dialogue is replaced with silent-movie intertitles that “speak” for the characters and set the scene. It’s a perfectly choreographed fusion of live action and animation that provides for constant entertainment and some wild characterizations, most notably the Queen of the Night (Erika Miklosa), who appears as a gigantic revenge-seeking arachnid.
There are a lot of stretches including the magic flute itself, which appears as an animated flittering fairy that casts her spell of love over man and beast. Likewise, Papageno’s magic bells appear as an animated high-kicking chorus line of dancing hearts.
All this cleverness, of course, would be pointless if Mozart’s glorious music did not shine through. And shine it does with undeniable luster from the singers, the chorus (directed by Grant Gershon) and the orchestra, all conducted with pearlescent brilliance by James Conlon. From first note to last, Conlon’s interpretation was a thing of beauty.
Brownlee and Pogossov prove ideal as the opera’s contrasting heroes, Tamino (the seeker of wisdom) and Papageno (the seeker of earthly pleasure, who throughout the opera is accompanied by a wonderfully loyal cartoon feline). Brownlee possesses an ideally bright Mozartean tenor that works beautifully in tandem with Pogossov’s resonant baritone.
Janai Brugger is a perfect Pamina. Her arias are as clear as a mountain stream, while Miklosa dominates the stage as the Queen of the Night with a temperament like a thunderbolt and high notes that glitter like stars. The trio of Gorey-worthy women that serve her are sung with bitchiness and charm by Hae Ji Chang, Cassandra Zoe Velasco and Peabody Southwell.
As the audience left the theater, a woman posed the question, “What do you think Mozart would have thought of that?”
He would have loved it, I thought. Especially since “The Magic Flute” was originally conceived for a music hall, not an opera house.
Jim Farber is a Los Angeles-based freelance writer.
