On Saturday afternoon, I walked down to the Met Opera to hear my first oprea of the season, Mozart's Die Zauberflöte. It seemed appropriate that I should begin the season with an opera conducted by Music Director Emeritus James Levine whose work on the podium has guided my understanding of opera since I first developed an interest in the genre more than thirty years ago. To my mind, no one has a deeper knowledge of Mozart's music than Maestro Levine, and without his insightful leadership of the Met Orchestra I doubt I would have the appreciation of these operas I now possess.
Die Zauberflöte was, of course, the composer's final opera. Technically, though, it isn't opera at all but singspiel, a form of German musical theater that features both singing and spoken dialogue. Mozart was thoroughly familiar with the genre. He had already enjoyed great success immediately following his arrival in Vienna with Die Entführung aus dem Serail, a lighthearted comedy set in Turkey. In between the two works, Mozart had concentrated on Italian opera, first with the opera seria Idomeneo and then with the three majestic Da Ponte operas. Returning to singspiel did, however, present the composer with one major problem. The use of spoken dialogue in place of recitatives meant that he could not use his music to drive the action forward as he had so successfully done in the Da Ponte operas.
Mozart's renewed interest in singspiel had been prompted by his involvement with a local theatrical troupe led by Emanuel Schikaneder who was to become one of the most noted impresarios of his era. Not that this was Schikaneder's only connection with Die Zauberflöte. He was also the librettist, stage manager, and even played the role of Papageno in the original production. Mozart and Schikaneder had first met while the former was still living in Salzburg, and the acquaintance was again taken up when Mozart became friends in Vienna with Benedikt Schack, a singer associated with the troupe who was to play the first Tamino.
Perhaps the most important link between Mozart and Schikaneder was that they were both Freemasons. This is critical to an understanding of Die Zauberflöte because the work is in a very real sense one long allegory meant to illustrate the beliefs and rites of the organization. These references are sometimes made explicit as, for example, in the second scene of Act II when Tamino and Papageno arrive at the Temple of Ordeal and are sworn to silence after having been warned of the dangers they face. This obviously parallels an actual Masonic initiation practice. For some reason, Mozart's association with Freemasonry is often downplayed, but it's central to any understanding of the action onstage. Mozart placed a great deal of importance on his membership in the Freemasons and made many friendships through it that were to have a huge impact on his life and work. Though the plot of Die Zauberflöte often appears comic to the point of slapstick, to Mozart it was a highly serious project involving his deepest personal beliefs. As Jan Swafford points out in the Met's program notes:
"The Masonic allegory is so pervasive in Die Zauberflöte that some critics believe that the opera's central message was to proclaim the importance of the Masonic order in a time when it was under increasing pressure from the throne."
If there's any consolation to be found in Mozart's untimely death, it's that he at least died knowing his final work had been a success. He conducted the premiere at the Theater auf der Wieden on September 30, 1791 and returned almost nightly thereafter in the company of friends to enjoy the applause and calls for encores. In October, he wrote to his wife:
"But what always gives me the most pleasure is the silent approval! You can see how this opera is becoming more and more esteemed."
Less than three months after the opera had opened, Mozart was dead.
Saturday's performance was as gratifying as one could wish. James Levine, as ususal, did an excellent job conducting the lengthy work while well supported by a cast that, though it contained no big names, worked flawlessly together as an ensemble. Praise is rightfully due Golda Schultz as Pamina, Charles Castronovo as Tamino, Markus Werba as Papageno, and René Pape as Sarastro. Meanwhile, Kathryn Lewek as Queen of the Night brought down the house with her Act II aria Der Hölle Rache.
The production by Julie Taymor (who also designed the costumes and puppets), though fanciful, was fairly restrained. Special effects were not allowed to become distractions, and the revolving set kept the action moving at a brisk pace.
N.B. There are two different versions of this opera in repertory at the Met. Die Zauberflöte is Mozart's original work sung in German while The Magic Flute is an edited version, usually staged during the holiday period, that is sung in English.
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