Read what our audiences have to say about Magic Flute
Review from Nelly Parr
It is always a pleasure to come to the productions at ENO. Not only are you assured of a good theatrical experience that includes high class and stylish singing, but also of a warm welcome from staff. So, here I was, at another revival of the Magic Flute and what a thoroughly delightful experience it was.
Mozart knew how to move and tickle his audience, even if the plot is a bit dodgy in parts....but that's theatre. His characters draw us in, taking us on their journey, conveying every human emotion. For love, observe Tamino and Pamina, both beautifully sung by Robert Murray and, on this night, Mairead Buicke (due to the indisposition of Sarah Jane Davies). For hatred, observe Emily Hindrichs as The Queen of the Night who nails every top note to the wall like a sub machine Gun on a mission. Her 3 Ladies; Kate Valentine, Susanna Tudor-Thomas and Deborah Davison, lusting after Tamino, only just remember whose bidding they should be doing, all clearly portrayed and singing their ensembles with great joy. Then we have the comic and dolefully moving Papageno of Roderick Williams who made me laugh a lot,but also I really thought he was going to cry during Pamina's "Ach! Ich fuhls" Aria...that was really moving. He is searching for his love, too, in the form of a pert and cheeky Amanda Forbes as Papagena. Sarastro was beautifully portrayed by Robert Lloyd; he exuded warmth, pathos and integrity with great fluidity. No wonder Pamina seeks solace on his shoulder. As for that other baddie, Stuart Kales' Monostatos, he clearly enjoys being a villian!
The 3 spirits were very touching and witty, and beautifully sung by Charlie Manton, Louis Watkins and Harry Manton. Even a football needn't have looked out of place! The real stars of the show, however, must surely be the family of Bears and the Doves......amazing that they know when to come on!
There is much to love and admire about this production. The set is gorgeous and beautifully lit. It compliments the story.....hard and soft,strong and yet delicate, visceral and intellectual, ignorance versus enlightenment. There is something for all of us here!
Underpinning all the action and driving the story onwards, was a sumptuous sound from the orchestra. Erik Nielson supported his singers and drew warmth from the pit that was a total joy to listen to. Truly an evening of Magic.
Review from Jim Thomas
My wife and I loved Thursday's Magic Flute. It was all excellent but we particularly wanted to say that the stand-in Pamina after the interval, whose name we missed, was the star of the show. Terrific! She can act and sing and her voice floated effortlessly above everybody else. Honourable mentions also to Papageno and to the four white doves.
Review from Geraldine Bull
Both my husband and I thoroughly enjoyed the production of The Magic Flute on Saturday 31st Jan. We were however very disappointed with the change in supplier for ice cream and will not be buying it in future.
Review from Imogen Dent
was at Magic Flute on Saturday and just wanted to say what a marvellous evening it was. It's one of my all-time favourite operas, ever since I first saw it (with my elder brother a very embarrassed member of the chorus) while I was still at school. And this, I have to say, is without a doubt the best production I've seen.
It looks absolutely beautiful from start to finish. The difficult question of how to stage the trials by fire and water is brilliantly handled. The comedy is spot-on and beautifully judged, yet the production is awe-inspiring and moving in all the right places too. I think in a way the thing I am most impressed by in the production itself is this perfect balance between the lighter and the more serious elements, so that the very profound truths that are touched upon are always conveyed within an exquisite bubble of fairy-tale magic, laughter and wonder.
The playing was exemplary, crisp and spot on and with no leisurely floppiness, and of course the singing was terrific too. Robert Murray has been on my radar for several years, so it is always a pleasure to see and hear him in action, and Sarah-Jane Davies was also excellent; two very lovely voices, and perfect casting on both counts. And I think I may have fallen in love with Roderick Williams. Whatever can it be like to be that talented?! His voice is as rich and sweet and smooth as warmed Cretan mountain honey; he can act; he's good-looking; what's not to love? But seriously, Mr Williams is definitely the best Papageno I've heard (& I've heard some good ones - to beat Simon Keenlyside to top spot is quite an achievement in my estimation). All in all, a truly wonderful evening. My warmest and happiest congratulations and most heartfelt thanks to everyone involved.
Review from Amy Spurling
What a charming production. I'm tempted to use the word 'accessible' but that has pejorative associations, so I won't. What the ENO sometimes loses in voices, it makes up for in imagination and wit. This was a very laugh-out-loud production - partly because of the witty English translation, but also because it was played for laughs, particularly whenever Papageno (Roderick Williams) was on stage. And also because there were people in animal costumes involved. The roly-poly, tickle-my-tummy, bears were delightful.
The set and costumes were sumptious. You won't be able to miss them, but just in case you do, look out for the stunning attire of the Queen of the Night's three blue-wigged attendants. The cream-columned set, which revolved to show a glimpse of fairy-tale woodland or Masonic hieroglyph, was delicious. As was the gigantic silky-red scarf which descended to form a kind of bed chamber. Sweet, sweet singing from the little underage spirits too. The spirit of this production felt closer to what opera may have been in Mozart's day - light, funny and entertaining.
Review from Edward Batley
BAD MOMENTS. A pale-faced Moor Monostatos, which, despite his black garments later, undermined the symbolism of the Enlightenment, which is central to the opera: the shift from darkness, evil, superstition and ignorance to light, morality, education and knowledge. Blackness or lack of light, in the context of the opera, is intended to represent evil. The fact that the original dramatis personae made him a Moor is important, but his evil stems from his behaviour. We may assume the Queen of Night to have been white-skinned (Madam Hofer, Mozart's sister-in-law, who first played the part, certainly was), but she too needs a veil so that her face is covered in darkness, and the same for the Three Ladies. If a convincing black Monostatos were not available for casting, the inventiveness of costumes and make-up could have made this Monostatos better represent evil visually.
Costumes generally were confusing. The chorus comprised men, women and children, the family unit, as if the producer were trying to make a political point, which has nothing to do with Mozart's opera or the Vienna in which it first saw light. What else were the children there for? They didn't sing or play a part in the action and were no part of the original opera's intention. What the 'family' costumes were intended to represent is not clear, some vaguely eighteenth-century dress code, possibly even the Quakers, to judge from the interesting but irrelevant English letter of Voltaire's printed in the programme. What had 1733 England to do with Vienna in 1791 or indeed with the setting of the opera in Ancient Egypt? When Sarastro's 'slaves' appeared with pistols, (a sprig of mistletoe?), rifles and even a blunderbuss, it was clear that these were not peace-loving Quakers but represented the armed eighteenth-century militia men. With sabres, a few eye patches and a pegleg they could have qualified as Pirates of the Caribbean. And when the Queen's lot arrived in the final scene and set up a ship's cannon on stage, the audience could justifiably have asked where on earth all this bellicosity came from. What did it all represent? The Queen and Sarastro being so well armed, was the producer making a point about arms escalation? The bastinado, with which Sarastro intended to punish Monostatos, is not mentioned at all, but instead the stage is filled with firearms. No torture please, 'it might offend some religious minority or other', the lame excuse given nowadays by officials of no religion whatsoever, but let's have lots of guns, but of course, unloaded and triggerless.
Why does Sarastro hand over power to Tamino? Tamino is a 'foreign' prince from Java, as the original manuscript of the libretto tells us, or possibly from 'Japan', to which the first printed libretto changes it ('japonisch'?). Did the producer or translator take this idea from Vulpius's three-act adaptation in 1794 or from Goethe's unfinished fragment? The action of the original opera centres on the Prince's own enlightenment as he moves from fear in the first scene, to gullibility in the following scenes, to his naivety being questioned by the first priest he meets, to learning to distinguish morally between the Queen of Night and Pamina, and to looking death in the face to demonstrate his courage. But this 'classic' production hardly pays this sequence any attention. And as for Schikaneder's intended spectactular climax, the so-called ordeals! The ordeal by fire was represented by something that looked like an elongated, low-level barbecue, but to have Tamino and Pamina walk down it was at best only 'pain-defying', not 'death-defying' at all. It was more reminiscent of the medieval hot-coal-walking ordeals used on the poor unfortunates suspected of being witches. And economies really kicked in when the audience heard running water, like water running down a drainpipe, as if the bath plug had just been removed. This was supposed to represent the ordeal by water, with Pamina and Tamino splashing around somewhere beneath the stage, undergoing what was supposed to be a life-threatening encounter with that element. If you remove the fear, you remove the whole point of the exercise! So, why did Sarastro hand over his power to Tamino at the end of the opera, and why did he in turn hand it over to Pamina? Are we men abdicating completely? If so, we can only hope in this production that the daughter does not at some stage take after her mother.
Lack of dignity. The Queen of Night, the 3 Ladies, Monostatos, the 'priests' in certain scenes, showed no distance, no dignity. As characters they were all too human, friendly, familiar, touchy-feely. The first scene of Act II showed Sarastro standing centre-stage and the priests 'seated casually' around him, Sarastro being interrupted by individuals standing up to question him in a manner reminiscent of the House of Commons at its lowest ebb. Was this supposed to represent democracy in action? In Ancient Egypt? The priests' voting was like Trades Union voting in the bad old days, simply a show of hands, such casualness quite contrary to what priesthood is all about. In any case, did the priests of Ancient Egypt vote? To secularists with no understanding of religion, soul or mystery, the function of any priesthood is of course a trivial matter. Were the producers trying to 'secularize' and 'sanitize' the opera? Three elevations worked well, but why such a restricted use of them, when a more imaginative use, reflecting the tripartite social structure of the opera, could have supported the dignity and solemnity needed? Audience and characters must be fearful of, in awe of, the Queen of Night whenever she appears. Papageno must be afraid of her. And where was Tamino's fear of the serpent? Where were his bow, spent arrows and empty quiver, his flight, his panic, the drama of which Mozart's music conveys? There he was, centre-stage, stuck, immobile, trapped motionless by a coiled and equally motionless boa constrictor, and still trying to sing? Why abandon the symbolism of the serpent? This was an anodyne pc production, which undermined the high quality of the orchestra's and cast's contribution, soloists and chorus alike.
GOOD MOMENTS. The superb entrancement of Sarastro's 'slaves' and Monostatos by Papageno's glockenspiel. The lateral movement, audience-right, of the stone pillars (and walls) representing Nature, Strength and Wisdom gave a brief claustrophobic impression of being caught in a closing pyramid while still alive. The appearance of the Three Boys' heads at three different levels of the first wall, just before Papageno's suicide attempt. The singing of the chorus, and in particular of the men's chorus (apart from II,i. when half the men's voices were inaudible, presumably because they were facing back-stage). The acting and musical performance of the soloists. Papageno's play with the doves (but not the contradictory association of one of the doves with the Queen of Night). Brilliant touches, such as Papageno fastening his safety-harness for the 'flight' with Papagena, the artificial effigy of their future progeny, and Papagena, still as the old hag, pushing a tea trolley on stage and smoking a fag (entirely in keeping with the humour of Viennese popular comedy). The Three Boys and the singing of Sarastro were excellent.
Review from Lorna Louise Gray
Anyone who goes to see ENOs The Magic Flute is in for a wonderful treat. A delightful and humorous adaptation to thrill the senses and leave you wanting more.From the live birds to the playful 'bears' the story unfolds to have a happy ending; not always the case in opera! Wonderful singing and an excellent orchestra made this a memorable occasion at the splendidly traditional Coliseum.
A very good opera for all ages and a wonderful introduction for children and opera newcomers. Make sure to wear something cool, as the packed house creates a very warm atmosphere in more ways than one!
Thank you, ENO!
