by Michael J. Vaughn
You know West Bay Opera's "The Magic Flute" is going to be different when three boys dressed like Mozart come out during the overture, run around the stage flapping their arms, make funny faces at the audience, and perform impromptu boogaloos to the allegros.
The second hint would be when Papageno the birdcatcher (and the opera's court jester) bemoans his prolonged bachelorhood with the words, "Oh, I could really get some kicks/if only I could net some chicks."
In fact, West Bay's own Ross Halper just about steals the show with his highly topical English translation. Well within the irreverent spirit of Emanuel Schikaneder's original Singspiel libretto, Halper drops in references to Big Bird, the O.J. trial, and even a quote from "A Chorus Line," as well as Gilbert & Sullivan uber rhymes like "vacation" and "tintinnabulation." (And even follows Schikaneder's footsteps in another way, by simultaneously playing a role in the opera. Halper plays the weaselly henchman Monostatos; Schikaneder played the original Papageno.)
The plot of "Flute" is a delicate little blend of Masonic mysticism, the battle of the sexes, and a fantastical journey similar in tone to Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream." Prince Tamino (Thayer Coburn) is rescued from a deadly serpent by three attendants to the Queen of the Night (Ellen St. Thomas, Barbara Sloss and Julie McKnight), and in return promises the Queen (Marta Johansen) that he will rescue her daughter Pamina (Marnie Breckenridge), who has been abducted by Sarastro (David Hess), the High Priest of Isis and Osiris. In order to facilitate his quest, the Queen gives him die zauberflote of the title, and to his cowardly birdcatcher friend Papageno (Todd Donovan) an enchanted glockenspiel.
A further Shakespearean quality--the intermixing of good and evil--kicks in when the two adventurers discover Sarastro to be a wise and apparently good leader of his temple, who has kidnapped Pamina to keep her away from her mother's evil influence. (Later, when the Queen is, indeed, exposed as something of a Cruella DeVille, you have to wonder why, then, are her musical gifts to Tamino and Papageno the eventual, ahem, instruments of their enlightenment?)
A second ambiguity is whether Mozart's opera is as misogynistic as first appears. Sarastro's admonition that "a woman needs a man to lead her" points one direction, but the ritual trials of Pamina and Tamino, and even their names, make them appear as equals, bound together in a spiritual journey. Halper, of course, throws in his two bits by having Papageno question why anyone would want to join "a cult of woman-hating Shriners," anyway.
Musically, West Bay's production offers a field of delights, from Johansen's mastery of the Queen's famous aria ("Der Holle Rache kocht in meinen Herzen," three of the toughest minutes in opera) to Stanford grad Coburn's strong, distinctly German tenor, to the ravishing Breckenridge's ravishing soprano, especially in her Act One duet with Papageno, "Bei Manern, welche Liebe."
David Sloss's orchestra was note-perfect (with the possible exception of those ever-tricky French horn entrances), as strong as I have ever heard them, and played with meticulous attention to the singers, allowing space for even the charming junior Mozarts (boy singers Alan Grimes, Jesse Lampert and Thomas Allen) to deliver their quiet admonitions as the "three spirits."
On the theatrical side, baritone Donovan as Papageno produced even more laughs than this choice comic role usually gets, and was joined in the end by a delightful Papagena in the person of soprano Megan Starr-Levitt. Hess, meanwhile, lent an imposing bearing and basso profundo to the aging Sarastro.
Costume designer Robyn Spencer had her ups and downs--the Queen's Egyptian togs being a particular disappointment--but excelled in Pamina's body-hugging tunic and sky-blue wrap and headdress, and in the Papageno couple's Rastafarian junglewear.
Set designer Peter Crompton stuck to the all-seeing eyes and pyramids of Masonic lore (and U.S. dollars), but had loads of fun flying them back and forth across the stage, often loaded down with singers. With the help of lighting designer John Rathman, his primitive columnar figures made an awesome backdrop for much of the second act.
In the end, however, what makes this such an auspicious "Magic Flute" is the general attitude, led by stage director Jonathon Field, augmented by playful touches from propmaster Rosalie Banta (the three spirits' array of antique musical instruments and stuffed-toy animal puppets, plus the temple guards' electric-pyramid torches) and, again, Halper's witty translation. Add a few inside references for the opera buffs (references to "the high-note-spewing Queen of the Night" and the powers of the flute being so strong they "could make a tenor smart") and you have an evening so full of fun you might forget you're at the opera.
What:"The Magic Flute," by West Bay Opera, directed by Jonathon Field; musical director, David Sloss
When: Through June 1; 8:15 p.m. Friday-Saturday, 2 p.m. Sunday
Where: Lucie Stern Theatre, 1305 Middlefield Road, Palo Alto
Cost: $30, $15 for youth matinees
Information: 424-9999
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