Isango/Portobello at the Duke of York’s Theatre
11th April 2008
Opera enthusiasts can perhaps be forgiven for approaching experimental productions with a certain trepidation, particularly in the case of a well-known and well-loved work like Die Zauberflote. Anything that deviates too far from tradition must surely be deviating from perfection, and, in many cases, it takes a leap of the imagination to appreciate and to understand something entirely novel.
But, despite any personal misgivings, it is important not to avoid experimental productions because some of the most the most rewarding performances can be found in the most unlikely places – anyone who gave in to such admittedly understandable reservations would have missed Isango/Portobello’s very fine The Magic Flute – Impempe Yomlingo – and that would be a great loss to anyone who admires opera, Mozart, or music in general. Yes, the singing at this performance was technically perhaps not of the highest standard. Yes, the music had been heavily influenced by African styles to the extent that much of it does not sound like Mozart anymore. Yes, there were some most unfortunate cuts, including Pamina’s only aria, ‘Ach ich fuhl’s’. And, yes, the fact that some of the opera was in an unfamiliar language was, at first, a little alienating.
A further deterrent as far as attending this performance was concerned was that the season has already a surfeit of Magic Flutes. This was, I believe, the seventh performance of Die Zauberflote attended by the Primi Divi in the past year – and, with Opera Holland Park’s this summer and Glyndebourne on Tour’s in the autumn still to come, the prospect of yet another Zauberflote was far from irresistible.
But, if there is one production this season I am particularly glad to have attended, it is Mark Dornford-May’s Magic Flute – Impempe Yomlingo. It came as a timely reminder that there is more to opera than the music; that the energy of the performers can add at least as much to one’s enjoyment as the singing – and, most importantly, that there is always more to learn about even the most familiar of operas.
Mr Dornford-May created a fine balance between simplicity and special effects in this exceptionally warm-hearted and magical production – and by magic I mean not only the enchantment effected by characters such as the Queen of the Night and Sarastro, but the ability to create a work so powerful and so joyful; a work we were most fortunate to be allowed to share with these talented and generous performers. The performers in the smaller roles had been performing every night for, I think, a couple of months; those in the leading roles presumably about four times a week – a great deal more often than operas are usually performed in a run. Yet it was as though, even on what I believe was the penultimate night, they were discovering the music for the first time.
The cast not only sang well, they are also excellent dancers. There is some dancing in Die Zauberflote where Monostatos and his comrades are overcome by the magic bells, and some performers have been known to take this opportunity to show the extent of their talents. But this Magic Flute had dancing throughout. It never seemed in any way out of place, partly because the dancing was of a very high standard, but also because its inclusion seemed true to the spirit of the piece. Die Zauberflote is generally assumed to be set in some part of Africa – Scottish Opera’s excursion to the moon some years ago was most irregular – and many parts of the continent have a very strong tradition of dance. Dancing can also have a ritualistic quality, and the concept of ritual is very relevant to Mozart’s opera.
The conductor at this performance was Mandisi Dyantis – on alternate nights, the Queen of the Night took over. He was only onstage to conduct the overture, and then, later, to produce the trumpetlike sounds of the Magic Flute, but it was a performance full of warmth and excitement. A great deal of credit must go to the many musicians on their (I think) marimbas and xylophones for managing to create the many and varied orchestral effects so faithfully and thrillingly. It was amusing, in some ways, to hear the familiar tunes in the overture being played not by the expected orchestral instrument, but it was also a very humbling and moving experience to realise just what these instrumentalists can do.
There were no surtitles, so the unfamiliar language did prove to be something of a barrier for a short while, but, as I ought to have realised, it is not very different from being at a performance of, say, Eugene Onegin in Russian, in a seat that has no view of the surtitles. The story Die Zauberflote was so familiar, it hardly mattered that some of the text could not be understood. I did have a slight concern is that those not familiar with opera might not have found this the ideal introduction – but, on the other hand, the energy of the performers was so infectious, perhaps this was all that was needed to draw new audiences in.
Papageno spoke English most of the time, and – as is usually the case – he was the person whom the audience seemed to identify with most. Zamile Gantana is probably not a great deal older – if at all – than many baritones who are celebrated in this role, but there was a sense that the character was older than his usual twenty-eight years. Perhaps Mr Gantana’s Papageno was more outspoken than usual; perhaps more consciously witty, in a rather world-weary way, but he was still very amusing. It is an interpretation that would probably work well in any production, as long as necessary changes are made to the text– and, indeed, perhaps Papagena herself should be a little older than the customary eighteen years and two minutes - as she was at this performance. The age difference between Papageno and Pamina was also very positive in that ‘Bei Mannern’ no longer verged on the romantic. Mr Gantana’s voice is on the heavy side for a Papageno, but his arias were very finely sung.
Papagena is a character whom I’ve always wished featured more in Die Zauberflote. As Papageno is the character who has generally engaged our affection the most, it does seem quite important that we should see for our own eyes the suitability of Papagena for his wife – we do, after all, come to know Pamina very well. Yet she appears for the first time some way into the second act, and doesn’t appear as herself until later still. I believe I have seen a production where Papagena was present in the final scene of Act 1, Papageno being far too preoccupied with his situation at that time to notice her. But it is usual just to see her in the three scenes written for her, with the occasional appearance in the second act Finale. I have often thought, were I ever fortunate enough to be able direct my own production of Die Zauberflote (which will most certainly never happen), I would like to give Papagena a more active role in the drama.
Yet, most companies appear to disagree, and they undeniably have a point. When English Pocket Opera cut Papagena’s three scenes to two, thus enabling her to reveal her identity in her first meeting with Papageno, her story became in some ways more satisfactory (it is easy to believe she might feel a disguise was necessary on order to infiltrate Sarastro’s kingdom – not that I imagine he was fooled for a moment – but it’s more difficult to understand why she might not want Papageno to know who she is). Isango/Portabello have gone one step further than EPO, and given Papagena just the one scene. She and Papageno meet for the first time as they sing their duet, thus forgoing the need for a disguise altogether. Thozamo Mdilva’s Papagena is a most charming lady of a much suitable age than an eighteen year old, and this is one production where there is no doubt she has been designed for him.
The true hero of the work, Tamino, often suffers from being less easy to sympathise with than Papageno, and, it has to be said, the language barrier did put Mhlekazi Andy Mosiea at a further disadvantage. His singing was not ideally lyrical on the night, but the CD recording of this production shows his voice to much better effect. Performing the role at least four times a week for at least two months can’t have been easy for Mr Mosiea, but there was something very endearing in his performance.
Nobulumko Mngxekeza gave a very spirited performance as a Pamina who is very much a lady of the twenty-first century. Not for a moment does she accept Sarastro’s doctrine that a woman needs a man to guide her (and she is quite right, of course: if anything, it is the other way around). She did not show a great deal of vulnerability – but she does not need to. After all, she escapes from Monostatos’ clutches at least once without Papageno’s help; she leads Papageno to Sarastro, and later joins Tamino in his final trials, all of which suggest that a certain degree of independence. Miss Mngxekeza’s Pamina was less gentle than most, but no less likeable. Her strong soprano might not have lent itself to Pamina’s aria as easy as the more conventionally lyrical singers, but it was still a pity not to hear it – although this meant that the story jumped straight from Tamino’s rejection of her to Pamina’s attempted suicide, thus avoiding the continuity problems in her trio with Tamino and Sarastro. Miss Mngxekeza’s dancing was also particularly fine.
Pauline Malefane is credited in the programme as ‘words, music, actress’ – but she is also a very fine singer, taking on the challenging role of the Queen of the Night. The opening to her first aria was exceptionally moving; the notorious high passages performed with aplomb. She was terrifying. Of the singers, only she and Lungelwa Mdekazi (Second Lady) appear to have studied music at university level – which only makes the achievements of the others still more incredible. Miss Mdekazi was well-served by her two companions. Bongiwe Mapassa (First Lady) is probably the cast’s most conventional Mozartian, whilst Tembisa Mlanjeni was a powerfully-voiced Third. Their music generally began in a conventional style, before segueing seamlessly into something more exotic.
The same was true of the Three Spirits, usually sung by three boys, but here by three ladies: Busisiwe Ngejane, Poseletso Sejosingow and Noluthando Boqwana. |The Spirits’ music is not usually among the most memorable parts of a performance, but here it was strikingly performed, Mozart’s music lending itself surprisingly well to a jazz-influenced interpretation. A slight pause before the final words of their phrases gave the music an entirely different colour. The Three Spirits were sometimes joined by several others. This is something I don’t remember seeing before in a production of Die Zauberflote, but it was very effective, and very beautifully sung, and wonderfully danced as well.
Simphiwe Mayeki was a thoroughly commanding figure as Sarastro. His lowest notes weren’t very easy to hear, but, in many ways, this demonstrated his power: he seemed the sort of man everyone would naturally want to listen to. His priests, too, particularly Zebulon K. Mmusi, who sang the Speaker’s role, had a very strong stage presence.
The role of Monostatos was taken by Mzwandile C. Kambule. Usually, if cuts must be made, I would not argue with the cutting of Monostatos’ aria as much as I would with the cutting of Pamina’s. But Mr Kambule was one of the strongest singers in the cast, as well as being an excellent actor, so it was a great shame not to hear his aria. My knowledge of African music is, sadly, limited (although I do feel as though The Magic Flute Impempe Yomlingo has taught me a great deal), but it does seem rather as though this aria would lend itself to the style rather well.
But, so course, so does the whole opera. I have many recordings of Die Zauberflote because I strongly believe it is impossible to own too many interpretations of one’s favourite works. But I think the Isango/Portobello recording – full of joy, undeniably musical, and, as far as its spirit is concerned, more true to Mozart than many a musically perfect but otherwise limited production – is one of my favourites.
Barry Tone
primi-divi at hotmail.co.uk