The new Zauberflöte at this summer’s Salzburg Festival is a visually brilliant production with sets tailored to the atmospheric venue of the Felsenreitschule (for people not familiar with Salzburg, this is where the singing contest was held in the film The Sound of Music). The set, by Mathis Neidhardt, consists of four interlocking box-type rooms with façades of doors and arches (imitating the arched walls of the Felsenreitschule), which in various configurations function as the forest, the temple, Pamina’s room, and the place of the trial by fire and water. This ingeniously conceived set enables swift and seamless scene changes, which were very impressive.
Beneath the exterior of eye-catching sets and colourful costumes, however, I found the production as a whole quite dark. What struck me most was the seriousness of interpretation by both conductor Nikolaus Harnoncourt and director Jens-Daniel Herzog – perhaps a touch too serious for a Singspiel – basically a popular genre for the folk rather than the nobility. However, Die Zauberflöte is a work of many layers and enigmas (including a lot of Masonic symbolism) and can be interpreted on many levels, and this production was exploring its darker side, especially in its portrayal of Sarastro and his followers.
The production is set vaguely in the post-war 1950s (which, incidentally, seems to be a popular period for recent opera productions). The three ladies are in colourful evening dresses but each time they appear they are in slightly different guises – as Red Cross nurses rescuing Tamino after his confrontation with the serpent, in sunglasses and coats, and even as housewives with shopping baskets. Tamino is in a casual sporty suit and Papageno appears in a small van selling birds to housewives.
More disturbing was the portrayal of Sarastro and his followers as over-zealous scientists in laboratory coats, keen on performing experiments on humans – Tamino’s trial of fire and water seemed to be one such experiment. Also worryingly, the three boys are portrayed as little butlers with geriatric faces, perhaps as a result of experiments too. Sarastro himself has some sort of small machine with the image of the sun (a symbol of his wisdom?) artificially attached to him. It seemed the director was trying to make the point that the premise of Sarastro as the force of good and the Queen of the Night as the force of evil is too simplistic, and that over-enthusiastically pursuing science can be as harmful as raw passion and anger. The production ends with Sarastro and the Queen of the Night fighting over this “sun machine” and in the end Tamino grabs it and walks off with it, leaving the two in a struggle on the floor. It was definitely not a happy ending.