The Magic Flute (selections)

The concepts of magic and mischief go hand in hand. Consider Disney’s Sorcerer’s Apprentice and all of the trouble Mickey Mouse gets into as he attempts more sorcery than he is yet capable of. Or closer to home for many of us, Staunton has become a destination for thousands of Harry Potter fans each September during the “Mischief and Magic” Festival. For artists, novelists, poets, and composers, this tandem has inspired numerous creations ranging from Shakespeare’s Puck to Thomas Mann’s Doktor Faustus. Tonight’s concert culls just four works from the vast repertory of musical magic and mischief. But within these four works we encounter grand Baroque opera, the American avant-garde circa 1970, Mozart at his peak, and a commissioned world premiere straight off Platform 9¾.
Among the very last music he ever composed, The Magic Flute remains one of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s (1756-1791) most beloved and intriguing works. Known by its original German title, Die Zauberflöte is a two-act singspiel. That genre was once extremely popular, noted for its free mixture of sung and spoken text. The singspiel originated in Germany, and most examples (including several by Mozart himself, as well as Weber’s Der Freischütz) are set in that language rather than Italian or French, which was more common for traditional opera. Plot elements often borrow heavily from the supernatural and merge both high art and folk culture.
Mozart’s partner on The Magic Flute was Emanuel Schikaneder—writer, impresario, actor, and owner of the theater where the work would be premiered in September 1791, just two months before Mozart’s death. Schikaneder was also the original Papageno, one of the great characters to emerge from this collaboration. In brief, the Queen of the Night summons Prince Tamino to rescue her daughter (Pamina) from the menacing High Priest (Sarastro). But in fact, Sarastro’s enlightened beliefs cause Tamino to reconsider his mission. He will rescue Pamina but then join with her and Sarastro to the unending torment of the Queen. The nature of this plot invites ulterior, symbolic readings that are only bolstered by what appear to be numerous Masonic codes within the score. Both Mozart and Schikaneder were freemasons, the former having been initiated at Vienna’s most prestigious lodge in 1784. Whatever Mozart’s intentions with regard to masonic symbolism, there can be little doubt that Schikaneder’s libretto valorized enlightenment ideals over traditional monarchy. Sarastro, an Egyptian priest modeled on the Persian Zoroaster, gains the upper hand on the domineering Queen of the Night, variously interpreted as a depiction of authority, in general, or Empress Maria Theresa in particular.
Fresh on the heels of an agile and invigorating overture, Act I opens in medias res with Tamino’s plea for help from the gods (“Zu Hilfe!”). Mozart uses rushing strings in the minor mode to dramatize Tamino’s flight from a gigantic serpent. As he faints from sheer fright, he is rescued by three attendants of the Queen of the Night, each coveting this handsome stranger for herself—note the ingratiating musical tone. After they depart, Tamino awakens only to be encountered by Papageno, one of the opera’s most beloved roles. In his aria “Der Vogelfänger bin ich ja,” Papageno laments his loveless existence in amazingly carefree tones. Successful as he is in catching birds, he has been equally unsuccessful in snaring a young wife. The two men will go off on a quest at the bidding of the Queen to rescue her daughter, Pamina.
One of Tamino’s tools will be a magic flute with which he may enchant animals. This all-important object is presented to him by the three ladies during the Quintet from Act I. Mozart brilliantly merges musical complexity with lighthearted comedy, starting with Papageno’s interjected mumbling (he has had his mouth chained shut for lying). But additionally, this Quintet benefits from the cross purposes of the characters involved: Tamino seeking adventure and possible love, aided by the magic flute; and Papageno, who desires getting no closer to realms ruled over by the mysterious Sarastro. Pulling them together, musically and dramatically, are the three radiant female voices. And thus, in six delightful minutes we hear Mozart’s take on both magic and mischief.

(c) Jason Stell