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A Credible Fairy Tale Toronto
Elgin Theatre
10/15/2025 - & October 16, 17, 18, 19*, 2025
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart: The Magic Flute, K. 620
Colin Ainsworth (Tamino), Meghan Lindsay (Pamina), Rainelle Krause (Queen of the Night), Douglas Williams (Papageno), Karine White (Papagena), Stephen Hegedus (Sarastro), Blaise Rantoanina (Monostatos, Second Priest, First Knight), Carla Huhtanen, Danielle MacMillan, Laura Pudwell (Three Ladies), Ugo Rabec (First Priest, Second Knight), Alexander Cappellazzo (First Armed Man), Olivier Laquerre (Speaker, Second Armed Man), Kate Lair, Alison Beckwith, Cynthia Akemi Smithers (Three Spirits), Artists of the Atelier Ballet
The Nathaniel Dett Chorale, Brainerd Blyden‑Taylor (Artistic Director), Tafelmusik Baroque Orchestra, David Fallis (Conductor)
Marshall Pynkoski (Director), Jeannette Lajeunesse Zingg (Choreographer), Gerard Gauci (Set Designer), Dora Rust D’Eye (Costume Designer), Kimberley Purtell (Lighting Designer)
M. Lindsay, D. Williams (© Bruce Zinger)
Perhaps in the minority, I haven’t been a fan of Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte for years. I certainly acknowledge its music is sublime, with several of its arias among the most memorable in opera, but Schikaneder’s libretto is problematic. It’s further complicated by directors revering it as one of the noblest works ever. Worse, they interpret Act II’s notorious Masonic rites as something sacred.
Since my initial exposure to Die Zauberflöte in my late teens, I’ve found the argument nonsensical and the Masonic rites puerile. I couldn’t understand how Sarastro, who abducts Pamina from her mother, could be virtuous, and how a Queen, trying to rescue her daughter, could be evil. To be sure, much of the opera’s misogyny is an expression of the Freemasons’ aversion to Empress Maria Theresa, then sovereign of Austria.
At its best, Die Zauberflöte is a fabulous fairy tale. At its worst, it’s a misogynistic Masonic diatribe. Opera Atelier’s production, a revival of its inaugural production forty years ago, is a delight for several reasons: a close‑to‑ideal cast; its staging of the work as a stylised fairy tale; its appealing sets and costumes; and a brilliant early music orchestra helmed by David Fallis. All this helped make the production enchanting. Director Marshall Pynkoski managed to render the opera as an exciting event, where one is immediately swept into a magical universe, recounting a tale that doesn’t take itself too seriously.
The use of Andrew Porter’s 1984 English translation of the libretto was a fine decision, rendering the humour accessible and discarding the need for surtitles to understand the plot. Moreover, this translation is full of levity, certainly more than Schikaneder’s original libretto, tiresomely dated and predictable.
Gerard Gauci’s stylized sets were colourful panels that reinforced the production’s fairy tale aspect. The opening scene’s monster that attacked Tamino was now an adorable dragon that every child would love to have either as a giant toy or even a pet. In Act I, the star‑studded night sky in which the Queen of the Night appears is stunningly evocative. Finally, the structures used in the Masonic trials were panels combining architectures of various cultures, including Gothic, Renaissance, Egyptian and Hindu, to insinuate universality.
Dora Rust D’Eye’s gorgeous costumes were a mix of eighteenth century European and exotic Arabia. Tamino and Sarastro were dressed in princely garments of the latter. The followers of Sarastro were clad as guards from the Moghul Empire. Pamina and the Queen of the Night were dressed as contemporaries of Empress Maria Theresa. Papageno was mercifully not the extravagant caricature too often seen; here some plumage was attached to his tight‑fitting body suit. Finally, someone understands that less is more, especially in the case of comic characters.
The greatest marvel was Porter’s translation. Never have I laughed and smiled as much in a production of Die Zauberflöte, thanks to this libretto as well as the superlative acting of the singers. Even minor characters such as the Three Ladies became major, thanks to Pynkoski’s direction and Porter’s text. Each Lady had a distinct character, and their quibbling was delightfully amusing.
Heard a few seasons ago as Don Ottavio in Don Giovanni in Toronto, Canadian tenor Colin Ainsworth is excellent in Mozart tenor roles. Thanks to his beautiful lyric voice and his natural elegance, Ainsworth was an ideal choice for the role of Prince Tamino. Both his deportment and delivery made him a credible Tamino, likeable but somewhat aloof. His Act I aria “Dies Bildnis ist bezaubernd schön” was polished and stylish, yet sincere and convincing.
Canadian soprano Meghan Lindsay was ideally suited for the role of Pamina. Her makeup, costumes and, most of all, deportment, made her convincing as a sheltered ingénue royal. By the end of the work, her tribulations had made her more human. This was a touching detail in Pynkoski’s staging. Like Ainsworth, Lindsay is a frequent performer with Opera Atelier; she was an excellent Donna Anna in the aforementioned production of Don Giovanni. Her rendition of Act II’s “Ach ich fühl’s” was touching and authentic.
American soprano Rainelle Krause was a revelation as the Queen of the Night. Her coloratura in both “O zittre nicht” and “Der Hölle Rache” was first‑rate. Most likely at the director’s instructions, she did not convey a mother’s grief in her first aria, but she certainly communicated a sovereign’s wrath in the latter. Surprisingly, conductor David Fallis allowed her to encore the second strophe of the Act II aria. To the public’s delight, she did so while adding more stratospheric variations and trills to “Der Hölle Rache.”
American baritone Williams Douglas was the dashing Don Giovanni in the aforementioned production with Colin Ainsworth and Meghan Lindsay. Endowed with good looks and a sensual, dark baritone, Douglas was a natural Don Giovanni, but his voice here is rather dark for Papageno. Nonetheless, he was possibly the best Papageno I’ve ever seen, thanks to his formidable stage presence and natural comic verve. His Act I aria “Der Vogelfänger bin ich ja” was charming. Needless to say, his Act II aria “Ein Mädchen oder Weibchen” brought the house down (as is often the case). Papageno is a much loved character and sometimes the performer overdoes the comedic side, creating a dramatic imbalance. Thankfully this was not the case here, as Douglas never upstaged the princely protagonists, nor did he overdo the comedic aspect.
Canadian bass-baritone Stephen Hegedus wasn’t an obvious choice for Sarastro, as the role is closely associated with a deep bass voice. However, Hegedus was up for the challenge. Thanks to his suave and warm bass‑baritone as well as his exemplary diction, he was an appealing Sarastro. He managed the role’s deep notes without forcing. This light colour helped portray a likeable avuncular (rather than austere) Sarastro.
Madagascar-born character tenor Blaise Rantoanina portrayed a naughty (rather than evil) Monostatos. He seemed to relish portraying the comic side of the role and did so successfully.
There were several cuts in this production, especially in Act II, and they were welcome. The Masonic tomfoolery was cut to a minimum. Some spoken dialogue was dispensed with. The amusing scene of the old woman who transforms into Papagena was removed. This made Papagena’s eventual appearance somewhat puzzling. Canadian soprano Karine White made the most of her much‑reduced role.
Opera Atelier’s productions are characterized by the blending of opera and dance. However, Die Zauberflöte offers less opportunity for dancing. Nonetheless, choreographer Jeannette Lajeunesse performed her usual magic in several numbers by Sarastro’s followers. As usual, these dances were elegant and made more appealing thanks to appropriately colourful costumes.
Despite its nineteenth century elegance, the Elgin Theatre is notorious for its lousy acoustics. Almost all performers managed to overcome this impediment. However, the orchestra sounded oddly muzzled. This is especially regrettable when the orchestra is the Tafelmusik Baroque Orchestra. Nonetheless, David Fallis did his utmost to lead with panache, allowing the musicians to breathe throughout. He was attentive to his singers’ needs by varying the tempo to suit them. Fallis adopted brisk tempi that rendered the music brilliantly precise, and the character of the performance more jovial.
This was an ideal production of Die Zauberflöte. I only wish it had been my introduction; it may now become a favourite.
Ossama el Naggar
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