Neither black nor white – Or what The Magic Flute is still able to say today


First of all: I was a great admirer of Achim Freyer’s production of The Magic Flute at the Hamburg State Opera, which received not only applause but also boos at its premiere in 1982. This production still felt modern after more than 30 years due to its playfulness, and I must have seen it a dozen times. I always found the interpretation that Tamino could have dreamed everything and therefore could observe himself at the end idiosyncratic, but Freyer’s pictures were simply beautiful.

The Magic Flute may have a special meaning for the Hamburg State Opera, after all, it was the first piece to be performed in 1955 after the reconstruction of the opera house. There is also a DVD with a performance staged by Peter Ustinov in Hamburg in the 60s, which probably formed the bridge between the reopening and the Freyer production.

And the Magic Flute also has a special meaning for me. Every time I deal with it, I discover something new in it. And as soon as I have the opportunity to see a production, I try to do everything I can to make this possibility a reality. I have already seen a number of productions, from a very classical one at the Semper Opera to a wonderful production by the HfMT to a John Dew production in Bielefeld, where he transformed Sarastro’s temple into a computer laboratory.

34 years later, Jette Steckel’s new production also received boos like the Freyer production. Probably every new production would have led to boos, because after all, one had grown fond of the old production, it was a constant companion through many years. So Jette Steckel didn’t have it easy. And it took me two years to venture into the new production. The light installations are fascinating and at first put me in a more than conciliatory mood, but right at the beginning I found the shortened libretto disturbing. No wonder that the State Opera wanted to be finished in three hours (in the end it was even a quarter of an hour less), and that despite the intermission. Some of the text has been shortened, and if I remember correctly, then also the first aria (“Zu Hilfe”).

No black or white, no clear good or evil

And so the music and the visual staging are in the foreground, because not much remains of the text. Instead, a little new text was added, which suited the pandering to the young audience. Of course, a production can be attractive for new opera-goers. Or maybe you rely too much on the fact that the content has been discussed extensively at school beforehand.

Because the fascinating thing about The Magic Flute, besides the music, of course, the change from good to evil and vice versa, did not come out that way. While at first the Queen of the Night stands there as the poor mother deprived of her child, Sarastro later turns out to be the good protagonist, although not quite, because not everything is good with him either (“I don’t want to force you to love, but I won’t give you freedom”). In the introduction to yesterday’s performance, the gentleman, who did not introduce himself, also gave the example of the violence he had carried out on Monostatos. And he also referred to this ambiguous polarization.

In Kenneth Branagh’s film, which is also phenomenal, the interpretation even goes so far that Sarastro had an affair with the Queen of the Night, but left her. He wants to save her in the end, but doesn’t succeed.

Life is not black or white, and some things are different from what you first suspect. But no matter what it is, you have to work on yourself to become a better person. This is how I would formulate the core message of The Magic Flute in two sentences, and we see this in all the characters of The Magic Flute. If you look at the simplification of some of today’s political problem-solving approaches, it becomes clear how relevant The Magic Flute can still be today. It’s not simple, it’s complex. And no simple answers will help. It is precisely this relevance to the present day that Jette Steckel has failed to show.

It is obvious that the message to work on oneself comes from the ideas of the Freemasons, because both Mozart and Schikaneder, who provided the libretto, were Freemasons. It is an irony of history that if you look out of the foyer of the State Opera to the street, you can see the entrance to one of the more than 40 Masonic lodges in Hamburg at a certain angle. But there was not much left of all this in this production.

Life paths and directions

Instead, the red glowing arrows that the protagonists dragged around with them were the predominant motif. Paths you take, some are wrong, some are right. And the life paths of Pamina and Tamino, who only meet again at the end and seem to stay together, are a great idea if you understand life as a series of trials and a labyrinth of wrong and right decisions. And yet, if we remember the basic motive, can something be completely wrong or right? Papageno, who did not pass the exams, took a “wrong” path, but met his dream woman, which was probably enough for him. The arrows are therefore a really good idea, which add another facet to the interpretation. Unfortunately, something else essential was taken away from her.

By the way, I think I have discovered a quote from the “old” production of The Magic Flute, namely the hand that guides and embraces Pamina (see photo), only this time it is formed from light. If it is indeed a quote, it is a beautiful idea.

The new performance will not be my new favorite performance. And that’s just because of the shortening of the text. Shorten and adjust a bit, of course, the Schikaneder text is not really up-to-date.

It is a pity that content has been removed so radically and, in my opinion, unnecessarily. The play with light is fascinating, there are many really great ideas in this production. But as in The Magic Flute itself: no clear “good” or “bad”.

By the way, apparently no more soloists are flown in from the Tölz Boys’ Choir. The boys yesterday came from a Dortmund choir; unfortunately, the first boy was much too loud, so that the other two boys went under. But I’ve always wondered if there aren’t any children in Hamburg who can take on this part. On the DVD of the Ustinov production, soloists from a Hamburg choir sang. Which is certainly better for the kids and for the environment when local soloists come on stage.