As I’ve watched the various filmed performances of The Magic Flute, I’ve noticed a small trend, particularly among the more recent productions. Namely for the Queen of the Night to behave in a seductive way toward Tamino during her Act I aria “O zittre nicht.”
Of course, the libretto never implies that the Queen behaves this way toward her daughter’s young suitor, but this hasn’t stopped various sopranos from doing it. While as far as I know, the only Magic Flute character ever to say “Mrs. Robinson, you’re trying to seduce me, aren’t you?” has been Papageno to the Old Woman in the Florida Grand Opera’s 2013 production, in some productions Tamino could just as easily say it to the Queen. That is, if he could get a word in edgeways between the Queen’s flights of coloratura.
As with various trends in the staging of this opera, I suspect that the origin of this trend just might be in the Ingmar Bergman film. While Birgit Nordin’s Queen is never overtly seductive, some of us still might sense a quality other than “motherliness” when she strokes Tamino’s face at the start of her aria, and a certain beguiling look in her eyes as she implores him to rescue her daughter. At any rate, her way of exiting at the aria’s end stands out. She brings her cheek close to Tamino’s face as she rises from her seat to leave, deliberately letting her veil brush against him, then gently hovers her gloved hand over his face as well; Tamino’s eyes close as though in rapture, and then he opens them to find himself back in the forest alone. Bergman’s commentary on the scene in the liner notes of the film’s soundtrack reinforce these subtle implications: “She thinks, quite simply, that she can turn the poor boy’s head: she is beautiful, mature, sorrowful, and she plays a broad register of feminine wiles.”
Likewise, in Kenneth Branagh’s 2006 filmm Lyubov Petrova’s Queen gives Tamino’s face a very intimate stroke at their first meeting, then tightly embraces his arm while kneeling before him as she describes the horror of Pamina’s kidnapping. And several filmed stage productions go much, much further. During their coloratura, Birgit Louise Frandsen’s 1989 Queen at the Drottningholm Court Theatre and Diana Damrau’s 2003 Queen at Covent Garden (pictured above) both caress the kneeling Tamino’s head against their chests and stroke his back in a way that’s distinctly unseemly for a future mother-in-law. Ana Durlovski’s Queen at the 2013 Baden-Baden Easter Festival rubs her hands erotically over her own body as Tamino watches her, then ends the scene by giving him a passionate kiss on the lips, which he blissfully returns. Most shameless of all, Elena Mosuc’s 2006 Queen at the Zürich Opera House ends her aria by sensually bringing Tamino’s hand to her breasts, then sinking into his arms, and the scene concludes with the two of them rolling on the ground together, followed by a suggestive blackout.
So, why do so many Queens do this? Nothing in the text of the Queen’s aria implies a seduction, nor does Tamino’s response after she leaves, which is only to be more resolved than ever to rescue her daughter. I suppose there are several reasons why. First and foremost, it foreshadows the twist that comes at the end of Act I, by giving strong evidence that the Queen isn’t the kind, virtuous lady she pretends to be. Secondly, while the aria isn’t written as a seduction, it is an enticement; its purpose is to persuade Tamino to do her bidding, so it’s not surprising that some productions add a little further “persuading” than just the words she sings. Third, this choice ties into the Speaker’s later question to Tamino: “So, a woman has captivated you?” At least in the Speaker’s belief, Tamino blindly trusts the Queen not just out of compassion for her grief or even because he loves her daughter, but because the Queen “captivates” him – it’s no stretch to assume that subconscious sexual attraction might be a part of that captivation. Fourth, it ties into the priests’ later emphasis on teaching Tamino and Papageno to “beware of women’s wiles.” Theoretically, a male villain could mislead them with convincing lies just as easily as a woman, so why are they ordered to guard themselves specifically against women? Because women hold sexual attraction. Showing the Queen using just that to manipulate Tamino makes the priests’ later concerns more valid.
Clearly, a strong case can be made for portraying the Queen as a temptress. But can a case also be made not to portray her that way?
I would say yes. First, we might argue that her villainy shouldn’t be so blatantly foreshadowed. That audiences unfamiliar with the opera should follow Tamino in trusting her and in thinking Sarastro is the villain, then learn the truth along with him. Secondly, there’s the issue of dignity. The Queen is a monarch and a goddess, who inspires awe and reverence from others, and to whom Mozart gives glittering opera seria-style arias that befit her lofty status. Sexually tempting Tamino isn’t exactly “queenly” behavior; in the Bergman and Branagh films, it’s done subtly enough not to rob her of dignity, but the naughtier stage productions are a different story. Third, … isn’t it slightly hackneyed to use “seductress” as visual shorthand for “bad woman”? The Queen is one of the few female villains in opera to neither be written as a temptress nor motivated by desire for a man. Showing her using sex appeal to manipulate the hero is arguably just as clichéd as productions of Rigoletto that signify “court corruption” by portraying the opening ball as an orgy full of lords and ladies rolling on the floor.
Ultimately, my feelings about the “Queen as temptress” approach are mixed. A good case can be made both for the practice and against it, so I won’t object when a production stages “O zittre nicht” in this way, but neither do I think it’s the single definitive way to stage the aria. I also prefer the more subtle and still-dignified temptress Queens to the ones whose eroticism is over-the-top – I particularly could have done without the 2006 Zürich staging’s implication that the Queen and Tamino have actual sex.
Still, the “Queen as temptress” interpretation is a valid approach to her character and a fairly popular one too. Love it or hate it, but many Queens will undoubtedly “turn the poor boy’s head” during “O zittre nicht” for as long as this opera is still performed.
No comments:
Post a Comment