The Magic in the Flute

Legend says that the Prince Archbishop of Salzburg himself literally kicked Mozart out of his
palace - in truth it was his Grace's steward Count Arno who delivered the Episcopal drop kick.
In Emanuele Luzzati's drawing the young Mozart seems to enjoy the event.  But it seems some
little success and an admonishing Emperor Josef are awaiting his arrival in Vienna.

An article on Mozart's The Magic Flute by my friend David Nice over at I'll Think of Something Later led me (as David's writings so often do)  to do two things: download one of the great recordings of Mozart's masterpiece and search for one of several books I have on the work of Emanuele Luzzati as inspired by the genius that was Wolfgang A.

Never out of the catalogue since the day it was issued, the recording was produced by Walter Legge in Germany between November 8, 1937 and March 8th of the following year in Berlin's Beethovensaal. It featured the Berlin Philharmonic and the cream of Germany's operatic talent - or at least those who had not been forced to leave by the Nazis; but most surprisingly it was conducted by Sir Thomas Beecham.  Beecham had created some controversy in 1936 when he taken the London Philharmonic on tour to Germany and had agreed to the "request" not to include Mendelssohn's Scottish Symphony in their repertoire - though a convert to Christianity the Nazi government still regarded Mendelssohn as a "Jewish composer".  To the discomfort of the authorities even Der Fuehrer was not exempt from one of Sir Thomas's comments.  When Hitler showed up late for one of the Berlin concerts Beecham was heard, in one of those mutters of his that could fill a room, to observe "That stupid old bugger's late!"

A computer reconstruction of the Beethovensaal, home of the Berlin Philharmonic
before the Second World War.  It was destroyed in the Allied bombing raids.
It was the major recording venue for HMV between the two Great Wars.

Though not an Nazi sympathizer - Beecham refused invitations to tour Germany after 1936 - he nevertheless honoured contracts he had with the Berlin State Opera in '37-38.  For HMV Legge assembled an all-German cast (though Danish-born Helge Rosvaenge made his career in Germany and Austria) and it seems that he audaciously replaced a few "unacceptable" members of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra strategically with players from the Berlin State Opera Orchestra.  The Queen of the Night’s aria O zitt’re nicht, mein lieber Sohn (Tremble not, my dear son) was still unrecorded when Beecham left Berlin at the beginning of March and was recorded later that month with Bruno Seidler-Winkler conducting the Berlin State Opera Orchestra.

HMV's Mozart Opera Society issued four operas on 78s over the space of
several years. The First was the Glyndebourne Nozze di Figaro followed by
Cosi and Don Giovanni also from John Christie's country opera house. The
Beecham Zauberflote was the only non-British recording in the set. Along
with the Cosi it was to remain in the catalogue since its first issue and is
considered one of the great recordings of the 20th century.

Despite its slightly clouded history the recording was greeted with superlatives when it was issued on 19 double-sided shellac 78s as one of HMV's The Mozart Opera Society recordings.  As the LP era took over many other recordings were to appear but this pioneering effort was the one most frequently held up for comparison.   My own Flute of choice has always been the 1962 recording also produced by Legge under the baton of Otto Klemperer.  I recall hearing an LP transfer of the earlier Berlin recording and not being terribly impressed - it sounded as if it had been copied from the 78s clicks, pops and hisses intact.  But after several hearings of the 2001 remastering of Beecham's historical recording on Naxos I am inclined to place it very close second in my list of favourites.   Though the two conductors could not be more different in their approach they both capture the inspired lunacy of Schikaneder that is made magical by Mozart's music.   The surprise with Klemperer was always how jolly and warm, almost folk-like, the more comic moments sounded and with Beecham it is the sublime majesty of the more serious  - but then should I really be that surprised?  He was, after-all, a conductor of Wagner, Strauss and Delius.

Emanuele Luzzati's set model for the 1963 Die Zauberflote at Glyndebourne.  Ten
triangular screens, each manipulated by a stagehand hidden inside moved about
the stage under the direction of a stage manager using early wireless technology.

Luzzati's sketches suggest the positions he wanted for the screens and designs (each side had a
different colour and design theme) he wanted revealed for the various scenes as the opera unfolded.

That strange juxtaposition of the inane and the sublime has always been a problem both in the pit and on stage.  How do you reconcile the antics of Papageno with the proclamations of Sarastro; how do you handle that sudden switch of bad guys half-way through the first act.  How do you stage a work which, as Winthrop Sargeant observed, is often dramatically dull and where "in the last act - the Klu Klux Klan marches around and says "No!" while Tamino tries to become an Eagle Scout"? And Sargeant is right - it can all be very morally upright and lets admit it the stage is not really the place where moral uprightness shows to best advantage.  Often when stage directors have failed their designers have come through and found the magic in the Flute.   And an incredible array of designers have strove and in many cases found the balance between Mozart and Schikaneder;  amongst the more famous are Marc Chagall at the Met in 1967,  David Hockney at Glynedebourne ('78)  and the Met ('91),  Beni Montressor at the NYC Opera, William Kentridge at La Monnaie ('05) and La Scala ('11), Oskar Kokoschka, Maurice Sendak and again at Glyndebourne my beloved Emanuele Luzzati in 1963.


Every year, beginning in 1960, I ordered a copy of the Glyndebourne Programme Book and between those lavish publications and the marvelous recordings I had from the Festival (Le Comte Ory, Cenerentola, the 1936 Cosi)  I would armchair travel in tuxedoed splendor on the train from Victoria to the Sussex downs,  picnic by the HaHa, wander in the gardens and revel in Mozart or Rossini.  I first became aware of Luzzati's work when I opened that 1963 Programme Book.   I was immediately captured by his strange drawings - and remember wondering how on earth they were ever realized.  But I was even more intrigued by his use of 10 three sided screens maneuvered about the stage by a stagehand inside who took instructions from the Stage Manager on wireless headphones - how modern was that?  In subsequent years I was fascinated by Luzzati's designs for Don Giovanni, Macbeth and Die Entführung aus dem Serail.  All very different but all distinctively Luzzati.

I finally got to Glyndebourne in 1969, dined in the Nether Wallop and saw the new Luzzati-John Pritchard Cosi along with Pelléas and Werther.  But the following year was to be "the year" - as well as Janet Baker in La Calisto and Graziella Scuitti in Il Turco in Italia - I finally got to see that Magic Flute.  If in my memory book it takes second place to the Calisto (one of those truly great nights of opera that I can count on the fingers of one hand) it was still memorable for the performances of a young Illena Cortubas, Weishal Ochman and Hans Sotin - and the magic of Luzzati's designs.  At one moment dark and glittering, the next all bosky green and in a twinkling gleaming gold they perfectly captured the shifts from whimsy to wisdom that so intrigues in this silly-sublime final work of the equally silly-sublime Mozart.

Luzzati only designed that one production of The Magic Flute for the stage but he was to use the opera as the inspiration for designs of all sorts throughout his life.  Posters, playing cards, a full length animation and a children's book were all to give him opportunities to express the joy that the work so obviously gave him.  Though long out of print I was able to find that children's book online and decided that I'd make a short video combining those two things that my friend David had led me to search out:  Sir Thomas's recording from so long ago and Luzzati's interpretation for children - so different and yet often similar to his vision for the stage. 

Many thanks David - as always you led me to something wonderful.

May 4 -1919: May Fourth Movement: Student demonstrations take place in Tiananmen Square in Beijing, China, protesting the Treaty of Versailles, which transferred Chinese territory to Japan.

Sharing

Back in the old days of regular blog postings I would share some of my favourite bloggers and their words of wit and wisdom as well as random photos with a bit of theme thrown in. As I look over the old list on the side bar I see that many of my old friends no longer post regularly and in some cases not at all. Many of them have graduated to Facebook where we still are able to keep in touch with the comings and goings in our lives, if in a slightly more concise manner.

April 23, 2012 - Springtime comes to Ottawa!

However a few of my longtime blog buddies are still around, one has - to my immense joy - started blogging again and at least one of my dearest friends has begun her own blog.   Sadly one of my longtime favourites has announced she is closing down her blog.  So I'm back to sharing both favourite blogs and I thought, that given our return to winter yesterday,  I'd post a few photos of the "winter of our discontent" here in Ottawa. Now some of you may recall my "bitch slap" threat - well if one more person tells me what a "mild" winter its been this year I will personally make sure they are incorporated into an ice sculpture for next year's Winterlude - some pictures of this year's entries follow.

A recent addition to the many memorials to Canadian politicians, warriors and notables that dot the landscape of Ottawa is this remarkable statue of jazz great Oscar Peterson.  Unveiled by Queen Elizabeth in 2010 the bronze figure of Peterson, seated at his piano, observes the pedestrians and cars at the corner of Elgin and Slater in front of the National Arts Centre.  And passersby are treated to Peterson playing some of his most famous melodies.  I took this picture and short video late one evening after a January snow storm as I was walking home from the NAC.

My darling Jacquie Sue is still kicking ass over at Yellow Dog Granny - though with all the great things she's been doing for the folks over at the Rest Home plus old Dexter fussin' and a fumin' I'm not sure how she does it. And now that she's the youngest Great-Grandma I know she's got a budding YDG to take under her wing - Olivia is one lucky little girl. But we still get our Monday Morning chuckles, updates on the doings in West and whatever else strikes her fancy. And one of these days I'm going to accept her invite and get my butt down to West and try one of those world famous skunk eggs!

One of the most popular features of Winterlude, after the 10 km skating rink on the Rideau Canal, is the International Ice Sculpture Contest. The first weekend of the annual winter festival was perfect for viewing some spectacular pieces of ice carving.  Unfortunately by the time we got to them the second weekend and an evening or two later many of the details had been eroded by a turn in the weather.  But there were still spectacular.  Many had an Inuit theme to them though there was a odd bit of commercialism.  And a sidebar to my friend Marco - that's what would happen to your Samsung smartphone if you came to Canada in the winter!

You may recall that in January I headed over to London for a few days to see Dame Edna in her first - and sadly given her announced retirement, last - panto and to spend a few days with some friends.  Though time was tight I was able to have a lovely meal with my dear friend David - after having been royally entertained by his diplomate at the Garrick Club.  It was good to see David again, howbeit briefly, and even better to see that he has taken up blogging again at I'll Think of Something Later.  David has been my guide to so many things through his blog and my meetings with him and his current postings are once again giving me untold delight.  Wonderful to have you back caro!

When we lived in Poland we were lucky that we had a great group of people at the Embassy, not always a given - a group that 12 years later many of whom we see for the occasional lunch, dinner or breakfast.  And one or two who have remained close friends - almost family actually.  Among the later is my darling Bev.  It would take a book to tell her story - she always seems to be on the run not from but to danger.  In the past 10 years I've lost count of the places she's lived but I know Islamabad, Kabul, Darfur and Colombo are on the list.  Currently she's living in Bangkok - thats when she's not on the road to all manner of exotic places with strange sounding names like the up coming tour of  Nepal, India, Beirut, Bhutan, Kuala Lumpur, Sri Lanka, Nairobi.  Now my Bev is a person who does everything with passion and commitment both work and play and her latest passion is physical training.  And she loves sharing her passions and what better way than through a blog.  Her adventures as she checks out gyms and other cool sports stuff can be found at The Diesel Diva.  Welcome to blogdom darling good to have you with us.

Sadly Lotus Green over at Japonisme has announced that she is closing down her blog.  I've always enjoyed visiting her and being entertained, educated and often astounded by the wonderful wedding of image, word and sound.  She will be missed.

And what could be more Winter than a "Mountain of Lost Mittens" - this fun sculpture was actually made up of mittens that had been left in various places in Ottawa.

So enough of winter now - it is now almost the end of April and spring could make a more permanent appearance if it so desired?????

25 April - 1849: The Governor General of Canada, Lord Elgin, signs the Rebellion Losses Bill, outraging Montreal's English population and triggering the Montreal Riots.

So What's New?

Not much really!

• It's been a sweltering weekend here - sunny and the temperatures hovering around 35.



• Tonight is the big quarter final game between Italy and Spain and its going to be wild around here if Italy wins - what am I saying "if," of course they're going to win!



• Our friend Brigit introduced us to La Baia Sardina, a restaurant just around the corner, last Wednesday. Their shrimp, zucchini and white truffle tagliatelle is heaven and the wild berry pana cotta is pretty fine too!



• Laurent went to a wine tasting in the Pyramide area and, and as well as drinking some intriquing wines and meeting some interesting people, he came home with the URL for Italian Notebook, a fun website with a quirky take on life in Italy. I've added it to my favorites.



• I received a comment the other day from David which then led me to his blog I'll think of something later. It's a witty, knowledgeable and intriguing look at the cultural scene in the U.K. and beyond through the eyes of an insider. And his posting on a recent production of Ralph Vaughn William's Pilgrim's Progress made me envious - oh dear Bunyon wrote about a character called Envy didn't he? And not all that flatteringly.



• I've become addicted to Crodino - one of the many non-alcoholic aperitif drinks found here. According to the label its water, sugar, a herb infusion and a few of those other things with long names that make drinks bubbly and extend shelf-life. A bottle mixed with a splash of tonic and some ice and you've got something that goes down a treat on a hot day. You can also add white wine if you're so inclined - at which point you get a Crodino sprtiz!



• There's a large and very active Seniors' Centre in the park across the street from us. They started their nightly summer tea dances this evening, so we are being serenaded by an accordian group with an Al Martinoesque singer. Its all the old favorites guaranteed to get the more mature crowd up and dancing. And I seem to know most of the tunes - so what does that say about me?

Again I am totally ignorant of the name of this particularly plant but I've found the bud formation fascinating to watch as it begins to bloom. First these small globes that open to send out a faintly phallic looking bloosom which should open - if memory serves - into a trumpet like flower.

Nothing else new that I can think of... oh there is the new look on here. I decided I wanted something to reflect the colours of Roma. The ochres of the buildings and the green of the plant strewn balconies - and besides it was time for a change.

22 giugno - San Paolino di Nola