Class 1: Four Flutes

Handout Synopsis Return to Index

1. Four Flutes. We will begin by investigating terminology and job-descriptions: who a stage director is and how he relates to the conductor and management of an opera company. Since it is essential background for the entire course, this opening section will continue to be available online for those who missed the first class or want to revisit it.

In the main part of the class, though, we will study directors' choices by comparing multiple productions of the same work. Being a fantasy that uses fairytale elements to address real moral points, Mozart’s final opera, Die Zauberflöte (The Magic Flute), is an ideal example. I have selected four of the nine complete videos I have on my shelves. Most show stage performances, but the last is pure film. The first two visit the stage technology of Mozart’s era and today; the others explore philosophical issues through radically different choices of period and setting. All four have popular appeal.

The plot of The Magic Flute has several tricky twists, so you may want to remind yourself of it before coming to class. There is a written synopsis here, a short cartoon video here, and a slightly longer introduction to the Royal Opera staging here. All are highly recommended. rb.

The script, videos, and images will be posted immediately after class.

Handout Class Script Opening

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Q AND A

In what language are operas usually sung?
Nowadays, major opera houses all perform operas in their original languages, partly because this guarantees the sounds the composers had in mind, partly because it enables them to hire major international singers who can't be expected to learn a new language everywhere they perform. This is made possible, though, only by the public's acceptance of supertitles—translations projected above the stage or just occasionally on the set itself. This is a development that came in during the eighties through the use of glass slides; I myself have done a number of such translations that have earned me good money through rentals to other companies. But with the development of video projectors in the nineties, companies could more easily write their own in a medium like PowerPoint (and my rental trade dried up).

The goal, of course, is to have audiences understand the operas they come to see. Befire titles, this was done by commissioning translations that could be sung in the local language—an approach that came into vogue, I think, in the fifties. This a much more difficult proposition, as it must preserve the composer's rhythms always and his vowel sounds where possible; I myself have done half a dozen of these, but it is no easy proposition. The use of singing translations has varied from country to country; it was more common in Germany, for example, than in Italy. In major capitals with two opera houses, the smaller one often distinguished itself by performing in the vernacular, while the big houses preferred the original languages. But even back then, houses like the Met would commission singing translations for comic operas or those involving dialogue.

The vernacular movement has largely died out, however, not just because of the development of supertitles, but because the mere act of writing a translation in English, for example, did not guarantee that English-speaking audiences would understand it. English is notoriously difficult to sing intelligibly, even for a soloist with a light accompaniment, and almost impossible with any ensemble singing. You will have noticed this with the Branagh film of The Magic Flute: Tamino was more or less intelligible when singing alone, but for the Three Ladies singing as a trio, forget it. I could not even make out the text clearly enough from repeated listenings to write in my own titles.

What were the special qualities of the various Flutes?
My time-management skills let me down yesterday. I had intended to have discussions after each of the four productions, but postponed most of it until the end, only to find I didn't have time then either. Oops! But here are some of the points I hoped you might have made—or would have made myself.

The Magic Flute is a fantasy enfolding several serious moral issues. In general, I felt that both Bergman and Taymor conjure up a real sense of playfulness but—although you could not see this from the examples I chose—neither fully engages with the moral issues. McVicar addresses the moral content head-on, I think, by so firmly establishing the Englightenment context; Branagh does so too, by different means, but many people might consider his total reshaping of the milieu to be a step too far.

The Branagh also differs from the rest in absolutely requiring the film medium; I have no idea how he would have handled the opera on stage. Bergman makes a film too, but one based upon his own stage production; the period evocation is a delightful novelty (we will see other baroque examples next week), but he also relies on camera effects, such as the close framing of many of the shots, or the use of physical subtitle cards. Taymor, of course, is all about theatrical effects, though when watching her production complete I have found myself tiring of all that visual cleverness way before the end.

Personal favorites? I most admire the McVicar, largely because it is the one production that continues to engage my mind and soul long after my taste for novelty has packed it in. I admire the Branagh for much the same reason, though recognize it as a special case, an outlier. I am glad to have seen the Bergman and Taymor, but have little desire to watch them again. On the other hand, Flute is a notoriously difficult opera to stage, because of the difficulty of balancing fantasy to content. I myself have done 7 productions; the one I look back on as the most successful used student singers in a studio, all dressed in leotards, with a few props and buckets of imagination. rb.

REVIEW ITEMS

If you missed the first class, or wish to review it, I recorded the opening explanation of what an opera stage director is and does, and put it on the "Opening" link above. Here again are the links to the written synopsis of the opera, cartoon synopsis, and Royal Opera introduction that I had on the before-class screen.

VIDEO LINKS

The list below includes trailers for all four productions sampled in class, so that you can remind yourselves of their flavor; these are likely to remain available indefinitely. In addition (though perhaps only for a short time), the two films and the London production by David McVicar are available complete. If you are looking for one reliable performance of The Magic Flute, I would go for the Bergman; though the oldest by far, it has retained its charm, and despite being sung in Swedish, it is the only one with English titles.

FILMS
	Ingmar Bergman, 1975	Trailer Complete (with English titles)
	Kenneth Branagh, 2006	Trailer Complete

STAGE PRODUCTIONS
	David McVicar, London, 2003	Trailer Act I complete Act II complete Papageno/a duet (not played, but fun!)
	Julie Taymor, Met, 2006	Trailer


IMAGES
The thumbnails below cover the slides shown in class, though there may be a few small discrepancies. Click the thumbnail to see a larger image. Click on the right or left of the larger picture to go forward or back, or outside it to close.

	Emanuel Schikaneder, 1751–1812. German actor and impresario. Born in Bavaria, Schikaneder moved to Salzburg as a young man, where he befriended the Mozart family, and thence to Vienna, where he was first a member of the Emperor's company, then set out on his own as manager of the Theater auf der Weiden. It was in that capacity that he commissioned, wrote the words for, and starred in Mozart's Magic Flute (1791).
	Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, 1756–91. Austrian composer. A child prodigy as both performer and composer, Mozart produced an extraordinary body of work in all genres over a relatively short life. He wrote the greatest of his many operas after moving to Vienna: three collaborations with Lorenzo da Ponte—The Marriage of Figaro (1786), Don Giovanni (1787), and Così fan tutte (1790)—framed by two German Singspiels: The Abduction from the Seraglio (1782) and The Magic Flute (1791).
	Ingmar Bergman, 1918–2007. Swedish director. Considered one of the greatest directors of the 20th-century cinema and "a poet […whose camera illuminates] the myriad struggles facing the psyche and the soul," Bergman's films include masterpieces like Smiles of a Summer Night (1955), The Seventh Seal (1957), Wild Strawberries (1957), Scenes from a Marriage (1973) and Autumn Sonata (1978). He was also a theatrical director with the Royal Swedish Theatre. An accusation of tax evasion in 1975, which ultimately proved baseless, caused a profound depression followed by self-imposed exile for many years, though he was ultimately welcomed home with honor.
	Julie Taymor, 1952– . American director, designer, and filmmaker. Taymor studied mime in Paris, physical theater in New York, and Asian arts in Seattle all before graduating from Oberlin. After graduation, she spent two years in Japan and Indonesia, both learning traditional skills from others and developing her own company. These experiences have been the root of her signature mixed-media style, as seen in such productions as The Lion King (1997) on Broadway and The Magic Flute (2005) for the Met.
	Kenneth Branagh, 1960– . British actor and director. Branagh was born in Belfast, but moved to England with his family at the age of 9 to escape the Troubles. He made a triumphant debut with the Royal Shakespere Company as Henry V, which he used as the basis for his own series of Shakespeare films, in which he both starred and directed, later branching out to include roles from Frankenstein to Hercule Poirot. He does not appear in his 2021 autobiographical film Belfast, however, since it features his experiences as a young boy.
	David McVicar, 1966– . Scottish opera director. Born in Glasgow, McVicar studied acting at the Royal Scottish Academy, graduating in 1989. Almost immediately, he seems to have turned to opera directing, and now has 13 productions at the Met to his credit, plus at least 5 at the Royal Opera House, 4 at Glyndebourne, and numerous other major houses in Europe and America cities. His best productions, such as Agrippina, Die Entführung, Giulio Cesare, Die Meistersinger, Salome, and Die Zauberflöte, all of which seem to have come mid-career, are extraordinary in psychological insight, historical awareness, and frequent wit. He was knighted in 2012.