There’s no ‘curtain up’ in Simon McBurney’s production of Mozart’s ‘The Magic Flute’. The music, a sudden chord from the brass, starts before the lights even get a chance to dim. Much like the story itself, which begins with the dashing prince Tamino being pursued by a great serpent, there is little space to catch your breath. This production, first brought to the ENO just over ten years ago, never quite allows you to recover a stable heart rate. It remains a breathtaking theatrical delight.
Revived today by director Rachael Hewer, this production has an unabashed desire to entertain. Armed with a foley artist (Ruth Sullivan) to the right of the stage, a video artist (Ben Thompson) to the left, and a raised orchestra pit, the production embraces a style of total theatre that creates an ebullient synergy amongst the cast. Chock full of whimsy and delivered by a tighter than tight ensemble, the spirit of the production matches the frenzied charm of Mozart’s score.
The production develops swiftly. Surrounded by a flutter of paper birds, animated by chorus members, the bird catcher Papageno is introduced to Tamino, and together they are instructed by the Queen of Night to rescue her daughter Pamina from the clutches of the evil Sarastro. But as Tamino, sung with equal measures of strength and tenderness by Norman Reinhardt, will soon learn, not all is as it seems.
While almost everything in this production oozes an effortless charm, David Stout’s Papageno is the undisputed comic relief. Covered in bird excrement, and yet unphased in his aplomb, Stout’s easy charisma is as accomplished as his brassy baritone.
Much the same goes for Sarah Tynan’s Pamina. A paragon of virtue and strength, but still delightfully sweet, her weightless soprano expresses an endless love for Tamino, whilst also grappling with the character’s central predicament. Does she betray her mother or the man she loves?
The fearsome Queen of Night is brought to life by the spectacular Rainelle Krause, who makes Mozart’s enduring ‘Queen of the Night’ aria look easy. If you’re familiar with the aria, which is famous for its staccato notes that reach up to a piercing high F, you’ll know this is no mean feat. Combine this with an intricate characterisation that combines the intricacies of a mother’s love with the terror of a monarch, and you’ve got yourself a mesmerising star.
Conductor Erina Yashima sparkles at the head of the pit. Relishing in the great swells yet capable of expressing moments of pure tenderness, she helps manifest the visible dialogue between the action on stage and the magic of the score. Right to the concluding scene, which celebrates the twinned virtues of love and truth, she keeps the production in impeccable harmony.
Nevertheless, it has been hard to reconcile the last words of this production of The Magic Flute, ‘wisdom and love’, scrawled in chalk above the London Coliseum stage, with the consequences of Arts Council budget cuts, and the subsequent decision from ENO to fire half their chorus mid performance. Some may think that there is little wisdom, and a distinct lack of love, in such an action.