Review

Edinburgh 2015: The Magic Flute, Komische Oper Berlin, review: 'cute, but never sublime'

Peter Sonn (as Tamino) in Komische Oper Berlin's production of Mozart's The Magic Flute.
Peter Sonn (as Tamino) in Komische Oper Berlin's production of Mozart's The Magic Flute. Credit: Freese / drama-berlin

Here is an enchanting Magic Flute, bursting with wit, fun, colour and invention. Children of all ages will adore it, and I can’t myself remember enjoying any performance of this opera more. But there’s a but. 

The co-directors Barrie Kosky (responsible for the brilliant staging of Saul at Glyndebourne) and Suzanne Andrade (a creator of the wildly overrated Golem at the Young Vic) have been inspired by the Weimar Republic era of German cinema – not only the Expressionistic Nosferatu and Metropolis, but also the whimsical silhouettes of Lotte Reiniger – to transform the opera into a spectacle that integrates live performers into an animated cartoon.

Downstage is a flat white wall, perforated with doors, that fills the entire proscenium area. On to its surface is projected a graphic magical mystery tour designed and drawn by Paul Barritt with which the singers, costumed as figures from iconic Twenties movies, playfully interact. Papageno, for instance, loses his bird-catcher identity and becomes Buster Keaton, accompanied virtually by a faithful black cat, while Sarastro is a bearded Victorian gent in frock coat and stovepipe hat straight out of The Blue Angel. It is all unfailingly amusing, sensitively attuned to the music, and executed with tremendous skill and flair.

But here comes the but: its deliberate reduction of everything to picture-book dimensions flattens the drama into something merely knowingly cute and pretty. The effect is never moving, never sublime, and the higher spiritual quest that solemnises Mozart’s music is unaddressed: this is a Magic Flute literally and metaphorically semaphored in two dimensions. 

The project visits Edinburgh from Berlin’s equivalent of ENO, the Komische Oper, and the polyglot cast sings in German. The dialogue, incidentally, is not spoken but delivered as silent-film style titles, accompanied by a fortepiano eerily playing slow Mozart fantasias. 

There are a couple of minor vocal shortcomings: our own Allan Clayton is warmly ardent but rather too hefty for Tamino, while Maureen KcKay’s endearingly gung-ho Pamina turns scratchy in her aria of desolation. But Olga Pudova hits all the notes squarely as the Queen of the Night, Dmitry Ivashchenko is a sonorously dignified Sarastro and Dominik Köninger an engagingly wistful Papageno. The trios of ladies and boys are top-notch, the chorus is fresh-voiced. The vigorous orchestra is punchily conducted by Kristiina Poska. 

Charm and delight abound. But shouldn’t The Magic Flute do more than entertain? 

Tickets: 0131 473 2000; eif.co.uk

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