CMDFTT Articles
January 1, 2007
An Opera at the Met That's Real and 'Loud'
By ANTHONY TOMMASINI
Even before the Metropolitan Opera's Saturday matinee of Mozart's
"Magic Flute" began, this family-friendly version of Julie Taymor's
2004 production looked to be a huge success. Children were
everywhere, a rare sight at the venerable institution. They were
having pictures taken in front of the house, dashing up and down
the stairs of the Grand Promenade and, before long, sitting up in
their seats all over the auditorium.
Peter Gelb, the Met's new general manager, whose multifaceted
outreach efforts have already become a model for opera
companies everywhere, has rightly stated that the major
impediment to making this art form accessible to children is that
most operas are simply too long. So besides translating the text
from German into English, the solution here was to cut the
production, which normally lasts 3 hours 10 minutes, down to 100
minutes without an intermission.
Actually the matinee clocked in at close to two hours, but few of the
children seemed to mind. The audience was remarkably attentive
and well behaved. Of course one strict Met protocol — if you leave
the auditorium, you are not allowed re-entry until intermission —
was wisely ditched for the day, so children could take restroom
breaks.
Shortening the score involved what must have been painstaking
decisions. The overture and several entire arias and ensembles
were cut. Other arias were abridged through some very deft trims.
Otherwise the Met went all out. The cast was excellent, and James
Levine conducted.
The very free English translation by the poet J. D. McClatchy was
clever and singable. Papageno, still without a girlfriend and
miserable, asks forlornly: "Is my face just one big puddle? Aren't I
cute enough to cuddle?"
The Papageno, Nathan Gunn, was certainly cute enough. This
dynamic baritone exuded charm and cavorted about the stage like
an acrobat. At one point he tried to flee danger by scurrying up the
side of a huge plastic tube he was trapped in, only to slide back
down, landing with the floppy-limbed aplomb of a Charlie Chaplin.
He seemed the darling of every child in attendance (and the
audience included Mr. Gunn's five).
The stupendous bass René Pape was Sarastro. A lovely, clear-
voiced lyric soprano, Ying Huang, in her debut role at the Met, was
an alluring Pamina. Matthew Polenzani brought his sweet tenor
voice and wholesome appeal to Prince Tamino. The agile
coloratura soprano Erika Miklosa was a vocally fearless and aptly
chilling Queen of the Night. As the wicked Monostatos, the trim
tenor Greg Fedderly was unrecognizable with his flabby, fake pot
belly, which induced giggles every time he exposed it.
I am on record as being no fan of Ms. Taymor's production, which to
me is a mishmash of imagery, so cluttered with puppets, flying
objects and fire-breathing statues that it overwhelms Mozart's
music. But this show was not presented with me in mind. So let me
offer the reactions of three young attendees. Amitav Mitra, my
neighbor, who is 8, came as my guest. And Kira and Jonah
Newmark, 9 and 7, the children of friends, were also glad to share
their critiques afterwards.
For Amitav, this was his first opera. Though Jonah had seen opera
videos at home with his sister, he too was trying the real thing for
the first time. Kira, a burgeoning opera buff, has attended, as she
put it, "real three-hour operas," most recently "The Barber of Seville"
at the New York City Opera.
Not surprisingly Ms. Taymor's fanciful sets, costumes and puppets
won raves from this trio of critics. But their most revealing
comments were about the singing and the story.
The singing "was loud," Amitav said. Jonah added, "It was too
loud." Kira more or less agreed. I pressed them about this. Today,
when children hear amplified music everywhere, often channeled
right into their ears through headphones, how could unamplified
singing seem too loud?
Amitav clarified their reactions when he said that the singing was
"too loud for human voices," adding, "I never thought voices could
do that."
So their reaction was not a complaint about excessive volume, but
rather an attempt to explain the awesome impression made by Ms.
Miklosa's dazzlingly high vocal flights as the Queen of the Night, or
Mr. Pape's unearthly powerful bass voice, or the amassed chorus
in the temple scenes. It takes a while for young opera neophytes to
adjust to such mind-boggling voices, to realize that this strange,
unamplified "loudness" is actually amazing.
The other common reaction concerned the story, which all three
children enjoyed. Kira, though, was struck by the gravity of Prince
Tamino's dilemma. "Tamino was a little too serious for me," she
said, adding: "He never does anything that's funny. He takes things
seriously."
I think Mr. Levine, who conducted a glowing and elegant
performance, would be pleased by Kira's reaction. Mr. Levine made
certain that some of the opera's most somber episodes were
included, like the long scene in which the confused Tamino is
confronted by the austere Speaker (David Pittsinger), a stalwart
member of Sarastro's brotherhood, at the entrance to the temple.
Like most fairy tales "The Magic Flute" is a mysterious story of good
and evil. Naturally, Ms. Taymor's production makes the opera's
monsters quite charming, like the puppet bears who are enchanted
by Tamino's magic flute. And the boys singing the kindly Three
Spirits (Bennett Kosma, Jesse Burnside Murray and Jacob A.
Wade) are turned spectral and eerie, with their bodies painted
white and Methuselah beards.
This "Magic Flute" was the first Met opera that was transmitted live
in high-definition video to some 100 movie theaters around the
world. Ultimately the point of this technological outreach is to entice
newcomers into attending opera performances. The children I
spoke with are likely to be back.
Summarizing his reactions to "The Magic Flute," Jonah said, "I don't
think it's going to be the best opera I'm going to go to in my life."
What he meant, explaining further, was, "I'm, like, going to go to
others that will be even better."
The shortened "Magic Flute" repeats today, tomorrow and Thursday
at 1 p.m.; (212) 362-6000 or metopera.org. Performances are sold
out, but returns may be available.
An Opera at the Met That's Real and 'Loud'
By ANTHONY TOMMASINI
Even before the Metropolitan Opera's Saturday matinee of Mozart's
"Magic Flute" began, this family-friendly version of Julie Taymor's
2004 production looked to be a huge success. Children were
everywhere, a rare sight at the venerable institution. They were
having pictures taken in front of the house, dashing up and down
the stairs of the Grand Promenade and, before long, sitting up in
their seats all over the auditorium.
Peter Gelb, the Met's new general manager, whose multifaceted
outreach efforts have already become a model for opera
companies everywhere, has rightly stated that the major
impediment to making this art form accessible to children is that
most operas are simply too long. So besides translating the text
from German into English, the solution here was to cut the
production, which normally lasts 3 hours 10 minutes, down to 100
minutes without an intermission.
Actually the matinee clocked in at close to two hours, but few of the
children seemed to mind. The audience was remarkably attentive
and well behaved. Of course one strict Met protocol — if you leave
the auditorium, you are not allowed re-entry until intermission —
was wisely ditched for the day, so children could take restroom
breaks.
Shortening the score involved what must have been painstaking
decisions. The overture and several entire arias and ensembles
were cut. Other arias were abridged through some very deft trims.
Otherwise the Met went all out. The cast was excellent, and James
Levine conducted.
The very free English translation by the poet J. D. McClatchy was
clever and singable. Papageno, still without a girlfriend and
miserable, asks forlornly: "Is my face just one big puddle? Aren't I
cute enough to cuddle?"
The Papageno, Nathan Gunn, was certainly cute enough. This
dynamic baritone exuded charm and cavorted about the stage like
an acrobat. At one point he tried to flee danger by scurrying up the
side of a huge plastic tube he was trapped in, only to slide back
down, landing with the floppy-limbed aplomb of a Charlie Chaplin.
He seemed the darling of every child in attendance (and the
audience included Mr. Gunn's five).
The stupendous bass René Pape was Sarastro. A lovely, clear-
voiced lyric soprano, Ying Huang, in her debut role at the Met, was
an alluring Pamina. Matthew Polenzani brought his sweet tenor
voice and wholesome appeal to Prince Tamino. The agile
coloratura soprano Erika Miklosa was a vocally fearless and aptly
chilling Queen of the Night. As the wicked Monostatos, the trim
tenor Greg Fedderly was unrecognizable with his flabby, fake pot
belly, which induced giggles every time he exposed it.
I am on record as being no fan of Ms. Taymor's production, which to
me is a mishmash of imagery, so cluttered with puppets, flying
objects and fire-breathing statues that it overwhelms Mozart's
music. But this show was not presented with me in mind. So let me
offer the reactions of three young attendees. Amitav Mitra, my
neighbor, who is 8, came as my guest. And Kira and Jonah
Newmark, 9 and 7, the children of friends, were also glad to share
their critiques afterwards.
For Amitav, this was his first opera. Though Jonah had seen opera
videos at home with his sister, he too was trying the real thing for
the first time. Kira, a burgeoning opera buff, has attended, as she
put it, "real three-hour operas," most recently "The Barber of Seville"
at the New York City Opera.
Not surprisingly Ms. Taymor's fanciful sets, costumes and puppets
won raves from this trio of critics. But their most revealing
comments were about the singing and the story.
The singing "was loud," Amitav said. Jonah added, "It was too
loud." Kira more or less agreed. I pressed them about this. Today,
when children hear amplified music everywhere, often channeled
right into their ears through headphones, how could unamplified
singing seem too loud?
Amitav clarified their reactions when he said that the singing was
"too loud for human voices," adding, "I never thought voices could
do that."
So their reaction was not a complaint about excessive volume, but
rather an attempt to explain the awesome impression made by Ms.
Miklosa's dazzlingly high vocal flights as the Queen of the Night, or
Mr. Pape's unearthly powerful bass voice, or the amassed chorus
in the temple scenes. It takes a while for young opera neophytes to
adjust to such mind-boggling voices, to realize that this strange,
unamplified "loudness" is actually amazing.
The other common reaction concerned the story, which all three
children enjoyed. Kira, though, was struck by the gravity of Prince
Tamino's dilemma. "Tamino was a little too serious for me," she
said, adding: "He never does anything that's funny. He takes things
seriously."
I think Mr. Levine, who conducted a glowing and elegant
performance, would be pleased by Kira's reaction. Mr. Levine made
certain that some of the opera's most somber episodes were
included, like the long scene in which the confused Tamino is
confronted by the austere Speaker (David Pittsinger), a stalwart
member of Sarastro's brotherhood, at the entrance to the temple.
Like most fairy tales "The Magic Flute" is a mysterious story of good
and evil. Naturally, Ms. Taymor's production makes the opera's
monsters quite charming, like the puppet bears who are enchanted
by Tamino's magic flute. And the boys singing the kindly Three
Spirits (Bennett Kosma, Jesse Burnside Murray and Jacob A.
Wade) are turned spectral and eerie, with their bodies painted
white and Methuselah beards.
This "Magic Flute" was the first Met opera that was transmitted live
in high-definition video to some 100 movie theaters around the
world. Ultimately the point of this technological outreach is to entice
newcomers into attending opera performances. The children I
spoke with are likely to be back.
Summarizing his reactions to "The Magic Flute," Jonah said, "I don't
think it's going to be the best opera I'm going to go to in my life."
What he meant, explaining further, was, "I'm, like, going to go to
others that will be even better."
The shortened "Magic Flute" repeats today, tomorrow and Thursday
at 1 p.m.; (212) 362-6000 or metopera.org. Performances are sold
out, but returns may be available.
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