Being a fly on the wall during conceptual discussions amongst the team of Torsten Fischer's new production of Die Zauberflöte might well have been interesting - with the result (unquestionably the product of hours of effort, expense, and consideration) a rather laboured and inaccessible mélange for Mozart’s final stage work. 

Omissions, and additions - verbal (delivered with mixed accents and ability), acoustic, and musical surprises, underscored thematic focus encompassing gender issues/sexuality, religion/tolerance, and humanitarianism - all rather freewheeling through extravagant sets and (where symbolic, black and white) costumes (Herbert Schäfer and Vasilis Triantafillopoulos), and effective lighting (Torsten Fischer and Ralf Sternberg) - and, with a crisply-performed, if idiosyncratic contribution from the pit.

Here Tamino’s reptile is replaced by sexually rampant women in black, Pamina is a rather arid white-shirted, black-panted bore, the Queen of the Night distinctly Muslimesque, and Papageno, an athletic alloy of a “Mad Max” warrior and a Viennese Rocker (with unbridled profanities) in Lederhosen and yellow sports shoes.

Significant is Act 2’s multi-faith gathering with a suitably-costumed ensemble afore an admonishing wall displaying mixed-language excerpts from Luigi Nono’s Intolleranza, and previewed by Mozart’s cantata “Die Ihr des unermeßlichen Weltalls Schöpfer ehrt” (performed by Tamino). A contemporary political stab includes the eviction among the gathered believers of the Hijab-clad Queen from their ranks, as indeed the depiction of marooned refugees and deserted life-jackets strewn across an empty stage.

(Hetero)-sexuality thrives in most of the relationships here - becoming hackneyed as the plot progresses, and culminating most explicitly when Papageno and Papagena strip each other before diving into his pop-up beach tent to consummate their lust.

Among the cast, Nina Minasyan’s Königin der Nacht stood out all-round for her outstanding scale-work, even range, dramatic intensity, and imposing appearance.

Daniel Schmutzhard’s brusque Papageno was an undoubted challenge and while vocally mixed, his overall performance was an artistic achievement, combining credible flexibility, energy, and an unabashed exhibitionism. His Act 2 "Papagena! Papagena! Papagena!" was one of the evening’s highlights.

Papagena (Katharina Ruckgaber) won through her canny and convincingly-charming portrayal - whether 18 or 80! 

Dimitry Ivashchenko sang a solid Sarastro, while Sebastian Kohlhepp’s rather antsy boy-next-door Tamino and Sophie Karthäuser’s distinctly plain Pamina both gained in stability and confidence as the evening progressed.

René Jacobs’ inventive (apparently researched) reading deflects any customary moments of poise and grandeur in the score - with jolting tempi bizarrely imposing a kind of “musicus interruptus” in most of the set pieces - often trivialised in pace, and thus thwarting the customary contrast and dramaturgical foil between the characters in-and-through their music.  As such (for example), both Sarastro’s arias and Pamina’s "Ach, ich fühls" went for nothing - and received a corresponding reaction. 

The Akademie für alte Musik Berlin performed with taut and (almost) immaculate accuracy - but any evaluation shouldn’t amalgamate precision with concept.

Chacun à son goût!