In May 2023, I had a review that began, “It’s Mozart Month at the Metropolitan Opera.” Two new productions had premiered in the house: of Don Giovanni and The Magic Flute. March 2025 is another Mozart Month at the Met. The company revived The Magic Flute last night, and will revive its Marriage of Figaro on the 31st.
The Met’s Magic Flute production is the handiwork of Simon McBurney. I wrote about the production at some length when it premiered. Suffice it to say today: McBurney’s production is clever, offbeat, and enjoyable. It is abetted by the translation of Cori Ellison. That is, her English translation of the German libretto is transmitted in the house’s “seatback titles.”
In the pit two years ago was Nathalie Stutzmann, the French conductor (and contralto). In the pit last night was Evan Rogister, North Carolina–born. He is associated with the Washington National Opera.
Mozart’s overture was spirited but loose—a little sloppy. The rest of the opera was spirited too, and seldom sloppy. In general, Maestro Rogister was brisk, alert, and light. Could some of the choruses have had more “gravitas”? Maybe, but I would be loath to see The Magic Flute heavy.
Several of the cast members from 2023 returned. Two new ones were Ben Bliss and Golda Schultz, as Tamino and Pamina. Each singer is a leading light in lyricism today.
Isn’t “Ben Bliss” a good name for a light lyric tenor? It would not work as well for, say, a basso profundo—even for a heldentenor. Bliss sang his music cleanly and affectingly. Along the way, he showed a perhaps-surprising lower register: a lower register of substance.
Golda Schultz was exemplary. She is a consistent performer, a consistent soprano. She is natural, unforced, unmannered. Of technical control, there is little question. Pamina’s aria “Ach, ich fühl’s” is not easy. It seemed so, out of Schultz’s mouth. Also, she made the aria a study in lyric pathos.
Not long ago, I was lamenting the state of the opera world with a veteran of the industry. “There’s hardly anyone to cross the street for,” we agreed. Golda Schultz is definitely worth crossing the street for.
So is Kathryn Lewek, the soprano who was the Queen of the Night, and who is the Queen of the Night of the current era. When she entered in Act I, and the orchestra played, I thought, “Ah, her entrance music.” And I thought of Tito Gobbi.
Gobbi was Scarpia a million times. (Tito Gobbi was an Italian baritone and Scarpia is a character in Puccini’s opera Tosca.) When it came time to write his memoirs, he began with Scarpia’s entrance music. He had it reprinted right at the top of the page. He explained that he could not start without it.
Last night at the Met, Ms. Lewek proved why every company wants her as its Queen of the Night.
Two years ago, Thomas Oliemans made his Met debut as Papageno. He is a Dutch baritone. “It was an impressive debut,” I wrote.
Oliemans sang beautifully and intelligently, and he joyfully, skillfully, conveyed the character of Papageno. Singers sometimes make Papageno too clownish.
Oliemans was again Papageno last night, and, if anything, he was better than when he debuted. He is a superb comedic singer.
You know who else is? Maurizio Muraro, the Italian bass-baritone, who will appear as Dr. Bartolo in the Met’s Marriage of Figaro at the end of the month.
In The Magic Flute, Monostatos is kind of a thankless role—a villain, a brute—but Thomas Ebenstein handled it well. He is an Austrian tenor. It was good to hear his German, in this talky opera.
Stephen Milling, a Danish bass, was Don Fernando in the Met’s Fidelio, just concluded. In that role, he radiated benignity. He did the same last night, as Sarastro. At times, he seemed underpowered (as many do in the Metropolitan Opera House).
Sitting there, I wondered, “What was the influence of Mozart’s Magic Flute on Beethoven’s Fidelio?” The parallels are evident. I would like to ask Beethoven about it. I would like to ask him about many things . . .
Two years ago, I concluded my review as follows:
It is a great work, The Magic Flute (in case anyone forgot). Years ago, I had the privilege of sitting at lunch with Andrew Porter, the venerable musicologist and critic. I said, sheepishly, “I know this is a dumb question, but do you have a favorite opera?” Almost before I could get the words out of my mouth, he said, “The Magic Flute.”
Is it too long? I thought so when I was young and I’m afraid I still do today. “Well, what would you cut from it?” is the obvious question. My answer: Nothing, I guess. But Act II (the final act) goes on an awfully long time. Maybe three acts, two intermissions?
But The Magic Flute has done all right, for about 235 years, without my help.
