A Luminous Zauberflote

 

Emily Misch as the Queen of the Night.
Photo by Kristen Loken.

Opera San Jose

The Magic Flute

September 14, 2024

Opera San Jose’s season-opener is a surprisingly traditional production of Mozart’s famed singspiel with a beautifully light touch. Under the guidance of Brad Dalton and 19-year-old conductor Alma Deutscher, the production illuminates the opera’s ever-shifting secrets and manages to provide a lot of amusement along the way. The feeling of openness and clarity is furthered still more by the decision to use English for the dialogues.

The overture pantomime places the spoiled Prince Tamino in front of a proscenium-within-a-proscenium. He falls asleep before a pack of kids playing with a toy dragon and before you know it he’s taking an Oz-like trip into the action, being chased down by a full-size (puppet) dragon. When the birdcatcher Papageno falsely takes credit for slaying the dragon, the Three Ladies attach a padlock to his mouth. When one of the ladies suggested that all liars should have to wear such devices, the audience responded with an unusual applause. (Now what current event, I ask innocently, could inspire such a response?)

Sergio Gonzalez played Tamino with an enjoyably wry humor and a warm lyric tenor (with just a dram of spinto). I was surprised to learn afterward that he was covering the role, so add an extra “Bravo!” to that.

Gonzalez had a high-quality partner in baritone Ricardo Jose Rivera, who played a note-perfect Figaro in last spring’s Barber of Seville. Applying that same boisterous tone and excellent comic timing to Papageno is a sure-fire winner, and also accentuates Mozart’s great flair for blue-collar heroes: (The Marriage of) Figaro, Papageno, and Leporello. In any case, Papageno is clearly the most relatable character on stage, honest enough to declare himself a lazy hedonist and yet ennobled by his yearning for a life’s partner.

Soprano Melissa Sondhi is well-suited to the role of Pamina, notably in the heartbreaking aria “Ach, ich fuhl’s,” delivered in mournful tones after she mistakes Tamino’s vow of silence for rejection. Sondhi’s delivery has a lovely plaintive quality that inspires oodles of sympathy.

As Papagena, soprano Nicole Koh is a pure delight. In her early appearances, she forgoes the usual old-age mask and portrays the character’s pretended old age by hiding her face in a cloak and using a cackly voice and old-lady gestures to great effect. Her eventual unveiling as a babe, the answer to Papageno’s prayers, turns the stuttering pa-pa-pa duet into a boisterous, joyful party.

But I know what all you operaphiles are thinking: What of the Queen of the Night? Soprano Emily Misch has the sexy wicked mom thing down to a T: statuesque, great voice, very tall wig. Her rendition of Die Holle Rache is just the vengeful showstopper it’s supposed to be, with a beautifully light touch on the immortal staccatos.

Another fascinating presence is tenor Nicolas Vasquez-Gerst, who brings a certain Tim Burton cartoonishness to Monostatos. He’s terribly fun to watch, and even manages to inspire a little sympathy. (It’s not easy being a Moor, or a dungeonmaster.)

Bass-baritone Philip Skinner brings a sardonic dignity to the Speaker (the Temple’s doorman). I feel bad for bass Younggwang Park, who has to play the ever-stoic Sarastro in such a dry fashion.

Watching former prodigy Alma Deutscher at the podium is an entertainment unto itself. Her conducting is elegant and intimate, more along the lines of a choral conductor than the larger gestures of orchestral conductors. She uses a baton in her right hand to keep the beat while using the left hand to sculpt dynamics and signal points of emphasis. All this while, she mouths almost every word of the text to her singers. For those who cannot chew gum and walk at the same time, its fascinating to imagine the workings of a brain that can manage all this multi-tasking. The orchestra responded to this treatment beautifully, revealing all the small treasures of a masterful score.

Ryan McGettigan’s set is unapologetically theatrical, in a silent-movie kind of way, using flyaway flats to swap out rocks and clouds in Act 1. The temple scenes make use of fluorescent wires and a backlit pyramid screen to create stark, beautiful images. The Act 1 background nightscape featured a full moon that slid away to enable the Queen’s entrance (yes, the Queen of the Night entered through the moon). Accompanied by stage smoke and a stunning black and blue gown (costume designer Alyssa Oania), it was a pure rock-star moment.

The accoutrements included some playful dance scenes from the youth of the Antara Asthaayi ensemble (and how cool is it that OSJ has its own community of Indian dancers?).

In the final summation, I have to admit that I have been trying to figure out Schikaneder and Mozart’s labyrinthine plot for more than half my life. With this production, I feel like I got a little bit closer. It could be that Die Zauberflote falls into the same category as Cosi fan tutte. There are no easy answers, and the audience is free to have their own opinions. Where Brad Dalton sees (in his director’s notes) a Mason-like temple enabling a selfish Prince to become a humble ruler, I see a cult that has kidnapped a queen’s daughter and driven her mother to violent madness. Meanwhile, the temple - an overtly patriarchal institution - allows a woman, Pamina, to undergo the initiation rituals alongside her betrothed, a remarkably progressive move. Or perhaps we should just link The Flute to another enigma, Hamlet. You will never, ever figure it out, but it’s certainly fun to try.

Through Sept. 29, California Theatre, 345 S. First Street, San Jose. $58-$215, operasj.org, 408/437-4450.

Michael J. Vaughn is a 40-year opera critic and the author of 29 novels, including Punks for the Opera and Mermaids’ Tears, available at Amazon.