Festival and so on....

Friday night cast: Tamino :
Magnus Staveland
Pamina Lydia Teuscher
Königin der Nacht Anna-Kristiina Kaapola.
(The Queen of the night can be seen on the video.).
Découvrez Festival d'Aix en Provence : Une nouvelle flûte enchantée pour René Jacobs sur Culturebox !




Whenever I walk past the newly built 'Grand Théâtre de Provence', I always recall what Gian-Carlo Menotti wrote about the new trend of opera-houses, comparing them to railway-station halls and huge swimming-pools ... above all very bad for singers.

This is no doubt a splendid financial deal for Aix-en-Provence, one which allows the town to be even more highly praised by the richest of the lot. Meanwhile Marseille's opera-house, a fine art nouveau building, is tumbling down, nearly completely abandoned by the local politicians, more inclined to invest in international sailing competitions or endless expensive football schemes than to invest in a real refurbishing plan for this building which has seen so many marvellous singers, composer and musicians, past and present.

So now in Aix there are two stages, the outdoor one as before and this new high tech one which has just hosted the Wagner operas with Simon Rattle and the Berliner philarmoniker. It all cost a hell of a lot but it was acclaimed internationally.

After all, the cross section of opera goers are not the same public at all; Marseille's opera attracts local people with the traditional repertoire and some original creations, while Aix caters for the international summer opera lovers, including a fair number of jetsetters, using very expensive settings and casts. It has become the musical reference for baroque music, Mozart and now Wagner.

I used to go to Orange once a year, I heard some beautiful singers in their youth and glory (among the last, Alagna and Villazon, sweet Patricia Cioffi as well as dear French singers we can hear locally). I paid 100 € for a side seat for the last production I attended, seats quite high up and far from the pit - but that is the way it is, to be part of this huge experience under the stars (and often in the Mistral which blows the notes away). I did not like the rather mean looking glass roof which was added to the magnificient roman wall. I did not like it either when the local politics turned to the extreme right wing. I nearly swore I would not go to the festival any longer but where I live, if I ban the places which are not in agreement with my philosohy and politics, I would be condemned to stay at home and listen to my radio and cds. But after Lucia de Lamermmoor with dear Rolando and Patrizia I finally made up my mind I would stop going to Orange.

I went to the Grand théâtre for the first time on Friday the 31st for the last production of the Magic Flute. Somehow, I have always resented the atmosphere of the town during the festival. It is even more crowded than usual and stinks of very expensive clothes and perfume... And with the new town policy, the new theatre is the jewel of a whole brand-new suburb which is expanding on the other side of the Cours Mirabeau, representing the biggest financial investment made in a European town-centre in recent times. The price per square meter is amazing...

And precisely the mayor, a right wing woman lawyer, writes about the Magic Flute in the 50 page programme we were given for free on the way in, saying that the opera represents a hope for humanity and drawing a parallel with present times: "un autre monde se lève, dont les formes nous sont encore inconnues' (a new world is rising whose forms are as yet unknown to us'). Another argument which puzzled me, just as this Flute did.

I had read some fantastic comments on the orchestra, the conductor, the singers, saying that it was all almost perfect. I found it strange, though, to listen to those baroque instruments, the faster tempi and the links played on a piano. And the improvised noises which contributed to my imaginative journey, like that dripping sound when Tamino and Papageno were stranded in the dark, which took me into underground caves with drops of water falling from stalactites. There were some disturbing musical elements added by the three ladies of the night, shrill shouts, and then all those references to old photography, which really took my mind away from the action. I found Pamina fresh and moving (in fact she was the only one who actually gave me some emotion) - she missed her tops, but that did not seem to mattter much, as she got big applause at the end of her aria, the pick of her role, trying to decide whether she should kill Sarastro or not.

I realised afterwards I had spent most of the time puzzling at the videos being projected at the back of each scene rather than following the opera. From the very start, René Jacobs's orchestra and conducting sounded odd, with fast tempi being linked to the singers' gestures - which is why I got completely hooked on those extremely rich drawings, with amazing lightings, sort of greyish, and those deep constructions moving with the rhythm of the orchestra and the singing. The proper patches of colors came from the costumes as the setting was that non-stop projection of fantastic backgrounds. Tamina was like a pink strawberry Tagada, while Papagena, an old white veiled and weary witch, was transformed into a light green fluffy ballerina who jumped into Papageno's arms. The male characters were not very colourful, not even Monostratos, who was not black but was wearing a sort of purple chechia which made him look moreTurkish than Egyptian. And the rape scene at the back made it look even more Byzantine.

Another projection reminded me of Tiepolo's ceiling, where the terrible drunk masks get at young girls (Pulcinella on a swing). I had the impression that the singers, standing mainly at the front of the stage, were not really part of it though the stage director explained that they were directing the sketchings projected on the background. Still it was marvellous to watch with the lighting, but all that really needed a production of its own. Papageno was not above what has already been done, Tamino had a fine voice although he was a bit stiff. The three boys were nice to listen to as usual and had to jump backwards and forwards from their blackboard which was a symbol throughout the opera: symbolic of free-masons, teaching new ideals - the eye too appeared as a collage in a triangle (Max Ernst). What with endless details refering to Arts and Mathematics, maybe they could have been provided us beforehand, together with our ticket, with a reference book of the stage-director's artistic world... The flying rhinoceros was the last image I recall! Ionesco I suppose, referring to a free world as opposed to all the 'isms' of the past ages.

Still that jumping and dancing half-dressed rhino made me laugh, and for sure I was far from the Magic flute... or maybe that was supposed to be its magic?

Only Mozart knows really!