THEATER REVIEW: THE MAGIC FLUTE

A scene from The Magic Flute.

Sigh-lenses and breath

By Ed Rampell

The current version of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s The Magic Flute presented by LA Opera raises two essential artistic questions (plus, perhaps, eyebrows). Pouring vintage works into new bottles can be problematic, and in this reviewer’s opinion, more often than not they are not successful. This year I saw three modern dress Greek tragedies and, sans togas, only the Getty Villa’s Prometheus Bound worked. Resetting the other two myths in modern times served solely to detract from the original intents of the creators, and did absolutely nothing to enhance the banal productions.

On the other hand, every once in a while, a Leonard Bernstein, Arthur Laurents, Jerome Robbins, Stephen Sondheim and company come along, updating Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, whipping up a whole new, relevant concoction like West Side Story. It was a stroke of genius to replace Juliet’s balcony with a Manhattan fire escape. So I’m happy to say that the British “1927” theatre company and Komische Oper Berlin rendition of Mozart’s 1791 Flute -- the planet’s most produced German-language opera -- falls into this latter category of reconfigured and re-jiggered classics.

The company’s artistic conceit is to draw upon the conventions and aesthetics of silent films in order to express the fairy tale by Mozart and librettist Schikaneder. As such, we have some Hollywood studio slapstick and German expressionist elements, with references from Clara Bow’s “It Girl” to The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari to Fritz Lang’s Dr. Mabuse.

To be specific, the character Monostatos (tenor Rodell Rosel), who is identified (perhaps in a racist way?) as a “Moor” and chief of the slaves of the temple, is straight out of Nosferatu, F.W. Murnau’s 1922 creepy forerunner to Dracula. Pamina (soprano Janai Brugger) is suggestive of those Jazz Age sexually liberated flappers, such as Louise Brooks, the American-born actress who starred in G.W. Pabst’s 1920s German films, such as the daring Pandora’s Box -- one half expects her to burst out dancing the Charleston. Papageno (baritone Rodion Pogossov) is dressed like none other than that king of silent comedians, Buster Keaton (BTW, French Stewart is reviving the stellar bioplay Stoneface in June 2014 at the Pasadena Playhouse).

In addition to the innate artistry pertaining to and peculiar to silent movies, the 1927/Komische Oper Berlin production uses lots of 1927’s Paul Barritt-designed animation, which is the format the non-live action imagery is actually projected in, onto the wall Esther Bialas (who is also the costume designer) had constructed, in lieu of LA Opera’s usually lavish sets. This backdrop has elevated portals with sort of revolving doors out of which the various characters appear (strapped in harnesses, as they are on high). The visuals are often witty, and reminiscent of the type of animated images seen in the Beatles’ Yellow Submarine, Monty Python, Betty Boop Max Fleischer cartoons, and Dumbo -- although they never attain the polished perfection of works by Disney or Pixar.

This production is gloriously and very precisely, painstakingly co-directed by Suzanne Andrade, an Englishwoman, and Australian Barrie Kosky, who is the Intendant (chief administrator) of the Komische Oper Berlin. Viewer/listener beware: One misses it at his or her own peril, and an extra performance has been added. In our violent world, Mozart’s opera persuasively argues in favor of less Glocks -- and more glockenspiels. This rapturously imaginative Magic Flute is nothing less than -- well -- magical.

 

The Magic Flute runs through Dec. 13 at LA Opera at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, 135 N. Grand Ave. For more info: 213-972-8001; www.laopera.com.