An international roster of singers and creatives brought a bold, new-to-Seattle production of a time-honored classic. Directors Suzanne Andrade and Barrie Kosky, with mixed-media British-based theater group 1927, created an action-packed, daringly conceived ride through Komische Oper Berlin’s Vaudevillian version of Mozart and Schikaneder’s world of heroes, birdcatchers and vengeful queens. Paul Barritt's hand-drawn animations are combined with silent film aesthetics. Title cards, accompanied by excerpts from two of Mozart’s fantasias for solo piano, replaced the spoken dialogue. This lack of verbal expression, which is integral to the drama, was disconcerting for a Mozart traditionalist but likely appeals to new audiences less familiar with the work.
The production, revived by Erik Friedman, has no scenery and relies heavily on projections, the singers appearing in different locations backed up by a wall with secret doors. The production manages to make the singers look plausible as they fly among rooftops and react to images of animated cats, menacing wolves and a terrifying Queen of the Night arachnid. Skilled in the unusual and unique, Andrade’s atmosphere of fantastical imagery and charm meshes well with Barritt’s animations. Set and costume designer Esther Bialas’ spectacular world of fantasy serves as a background for the work’s heartfelt emotions. Her costumes for Pamina and Papageno are interesting, inspired by silent film greats such as Louise Brooks and Buster Keaton.
The main problem is that Andrade, Barritt and Kosky create too much distraction for the listener, making it difficult to concentrate on Mozart’s exquisite music. By the Act 1 finale, the forewarned “scenes with flashing strobe-like lighting effects” mentioned in the program escalate to the extreme. The ennobling music and character reveals fade to the background while a bright crimson display and other constantly rotating images feel disturbingly over-the-top. The second act is mellower and less frenetic in this regard.
Nonetheless, the well-chosen cast did an exceptional job of interacting with the visuals. Tenor Duke Kim’s voice is well-suited to the role of Tamino. His beautifully rendered Act 1 aria was enthralling. Soprano Brandie Sutton’s Pamina was lovely to hear and endearing to watch. Baritone Rodion Pogossov handled Papageno’s physicality appealingly. Vocally he sounded fine, though better in his duets with Pamina and Papagena than in his solo efforts.
Sharleen Joynt had some wonderful moments as the Queen of the Night. Her coloratura for the most part was very well done, and some of her fiendishly difficult upper range notes were thrilling, though it was disappointing to see only her face without the Queen's distinctive physical gestures. Ariana Wehr, Ibidunni Ojikutu, and Laurel Semerdjian were first-rate as the Three Ladies, Wehr leading the way with consistently strong singing.
In his company debut, bass Insung Sim made a huge impression as Sarastro. His voice was striking in its fullness and uniformity all the way to the lowermost limits of the range. Tenor Rodell Rosel was an appropriately menacing Monostatos, unmistakably disguised as Nosferatu.
Though singing offstage, baritone Michael J Hawk was top-notch as The Speaker. Soprano Tess Altiveros had the perfect vocal timbre for Papagena, and her winsome portrayal was a delight. Ethan Ibsen, Autumn Helene Chociej, and Caleb Petrini, well-prepared by Youth Vocal Coach Julia Meyering, were enjoyable as the three Genies.
Conductor Christine Brandes, a Classical and Baroque repertoire specialist, made sure the singers were thoroughly integrated with the hundreds of video cues on the film projections behind them. Her tempi were well chosen and executed for that purpose, and both singers and orchestra responded in kind.
Operagoers can be wary of productions that push the envelope of traditional concepts, particularly when it comes to Mozart’s beloved audience favorites, sacred to many. This fairy tale is told in a distinctively different way here, making things happen onstage that are not normally possible. Silent film combined with the vocality of opera may seem self-contradictory, but when dream worlds collide and archetypal, mythological elements and ancient trials of initiation coalesce into a common theatrical language, the result makes this fascinating production well worth seeing.
