The Magic Flute

2005
William Kentridge The Magic Flute

The Weight of Sarastro’s Hand 

Sarastro puts his hand on Pamina’s shoulder. To reassure her, to restrain her, to move her away from Tamino. How long and how firmly should this hand be on her shoulder. The shift from the hand being reassuring to it being predatory is a matter of a second, or the slightest resistence from Pamina’s shoulder. The task in the final days of rehearsals is to judge what duration, what pressure best brings out all the ambiguities of the relationship in the opera – control, generosity, unsensitivity, benevolence and authority.

The Magic Flute

Composer
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Librettist
Emanuel Schikaneder

Director
William Kentridge

Co-director
Luc De Wit

Animation
William Kentridge

Set designer
Sabine Theunissen

Costume designer
Greta Goiris

Lighting designer
Jennifer Tipton

Video editor
Catherine Meyburgh

Video orchestrator
Kim Gunning Meyburgh

Approx. 2 hours 50 minutes

World premiere
Theater auf der Wieden, Vienna, 30 September 1791.  

This production
Le Théâtre Royal de la Monnaie, Brussels, 26 April 2005, a co-production with L’Opéra de Lille, le Théâtre de Caen, and la Fondazione Teatro di San Carlo (Naples)

Learning the Flute

2003

35mm animated film, video transfer

Projected onto framed blackboard, supported by a wooden easel

Running time 8 min 2 sec

Music
Excerpts from Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte

Editing
Catherine Meyburgh

Preparing the Flute

2004

Miniature theatre with drawings (charcoal, pastel and coloured pencil on paper), front and back projections (35 mm film transferred to video)

21 minutes 6 seconds

Music
Extracts from Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte

Editing
Catherine Meyburgh

Carpentry
Richard Forbes

Making

The preliminary work on the drawings and animations for Zauberflöte were done in my studio in Johannesburg and tested on a model of the stage with wooden cut out figures. A good way of working with the video. One of the main unanswered questions was how to find a good relationship between the live singers and the projected drawings.  So that the projections are not just backdrops, that they do not make the singers invisible, and that the live performer and the projection are not at odds. Not possible on the model but to be resolved on stage, in rehearsal. 

Opera

There are some general principles that emerged in rehearsal. Singers do not look at the screen, the image on the screen is what we imagine the character seeing or thinking. A movement of the singer which tries to be accurately at the same speed as the movement of the projections disconnects from it. What comes alive is if the singer leads the image, as if they are making it, as if the stars of the Queen of the night are called into being by her. (On stage this means she needs to draw lines, not at the speed they appear on screen, but faster, ahead of the image, more decisively.) When this happens successfully there is a sense of agency, of power, of making. I think this is a clue for other sequences too.

Learning the Flute

Projection onto blackboard 

Some eight months ago, after I had undertaken to do this production of the Magic Flute, I was invited to exhibit in a museum in a small town. The museum was in an old half-timbered house and one of the rooms – a monks’ refectory – was filled with wood paneling and murals; not to be touched by the artist. I decided to do a projection in this room using a blackboard as a screen – apart from anything else, to see if one could use a black surface rather than the usual white as projection screen. I had needed to start thinking about the Magic Flute and decided to use the blackboard as a kind of sketch book for the production, seeing if a visual language would emerge.    

Preparing the Flute

Miniature theatre with drawings, front and back projections

Drawings

There are two ways of doing drawing white lines. One is to, use chalk on black paper. The other is to use a black line on white paper and then to invert the image on film, using the negative of the drawing, making the black lines white and the white of the paper black. This was the way I chose, largely for the wider range of marks it was possible to make and the ease of drawing, rather than for any ideas of the meaning of negative drawing. But what emerged during the editing process and was expanded in subsequent drawing was the play between the positive and negative version of the same image – like a photographic positive and negative. 

What I had not realised until the initial rehearsals was how drawing as an image of agency or invocation of it was located in the production. A connection which grew as it connected to the other large theme of the opera – the creation or at least growth of the characters through experience and time their making of themselves. – The rituals of Tamino are a diagrammatic depiction of this, but Pamina’s trials are the real heart of the opera. Her trials, – abduction, near rape, a lover who is silent, a mother who tries to turn her into an assassin are the ones we feel rather than admire. There is a parallel between the central enlightenment teaching – that we are not essentially fixed, that we make ourselves through experience, and the construction of sense in the process of drawing.

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Credits

The Magic Flute

Composer
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Librettist
Emanuel Schikaneder

Director
William Kentridge

Co-director
Luc De Wit

Animation
William Kentridge

Set designer
Sabine Theunissen

Costume designer
Greta Goiris

Lighting designer
Jennifer Tipton

Video editor
Catherine Meyburgh

Video orchestrator
Kim Gunning Meyburgh

Approx. 2 hours 50 minutes

World premiere
Theater auf der Wieden, Vienna, 30 September 1791.  

This production
Le Théâtre Royal de la Monnaie, Brussels, 26 April 2005, a co-production with L’Opéra de Lille, le Théâtre de Caen, and la Fondazione Teatro di San Carlo (Naples)

Learning the Flute

2003

35mm animated film, video transfer

Projected onto framed blackboard, supported by a wooden easel

Running time 8 min 2 sec

Music
Excerpts from Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte

Editing
Catherine Meyburgh

Preparing the Flute

2004

Miniature theatre with drawings (charcoal, pastel and coloured pencil on paper), front and back projections (35 mm film transferred to video)

21 minutes 6 seconds

Music
Extracts from Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte

Editing
Catherine Meyburgh

Carpentry
Richard Forbes

Jonathan Wilson:
In your talk at the Guggenheim Museum last year you spoke of a dangerous idea that inheres in The Magic Flute, “the whole opera is full of the metaphor of moving out of darkness into the light” but, as you affirm, coercing people (and indeed nations) into the light, in the interests of “enlightenment” frequently leads to what you called “enlightened despotism.”  You want to stake a claim for the shadow world, and its right to an autonomous existence. How does that desire manifest itself in your production?

 

William Kentridge:
The heart of the production is a series of video projections – sometimes the projections are scenery, sometimes an attempt to find a visual equivalent to the music, sometimes they are comments on what is being sung. Projections of course are about the interplay of light and shadow. In cinematic terms, darkness is the time before the movie begins, and the blinding light of Sarastro (and Plato) means the film is finished running through the projector and the clear light has nothing to tell us; it is unenlightenment. If this mixture of shadow-world and light is our only hope for knowledge, we end up in Papageno and Pamina’s world rather than that of Sarastro. So the critique of Sarastro is in the form of the production, though I am not sure how obvious that is from watching the production. There are some more direct critiques along the way.

 

JW: Music has been very important to your film work, for example, the great Congolese guitarist Franco’s haunting soundtrack to Tide Table.   How different was the experience when the music chose you rather than the other way round? And how did the music shape your vision? Did you listen to the opera while you worked? And did you feel at any point that Mozart’s music for The Magic Flute was telling a different story from the plot about the ambiguities of light and darkness?

 

WK: The broad arc of the production, that is using singers and projection, was established early on. Then the question became, in each scene, trying to serve the music and libretto best. Often that meant using minimal or no projection. There is of course the question of the quiet reassurance of Sarastro’s music. But if we have learnt anything over the last two centuries, it must surely be to mistrust the quiet, sage words of philosopher-despots. For me the most moving music is Pamina’s, and not Sarastro’s.

 

JW: Other artists, among them Chagall and David Hockney, have taken on set design for opera (although, unlike yourself, they did not direct as well). In Chagall’s case he was frequently overcome by a desire to control every visual aspect of the performance.  Sometimes he daubed paint on the faces and the costumes of the performers moments before they went on stage. Did you experience a similar desire to command the stage in its entirety?

 

WK: I had no desire to control the stage to the extent of doing make-up on the performers, but I did spend many hours on ladders painting the flaps, and many hours painting calligraphic lines on the costumes. As with all collaborative work, there is a sometimes tricky area between giving an autonomy to the different participants and shaping that work into a single vision. The key for me is finding the right collaborators at the start of the process. There are large areas of the work of the opera in which I feel great incompetence, for example how to direct and control a chorus. In this and in many other areas I was very happy to hand control to collaborators.

 

JW: You have collaborated many times with the Handspring Puppet Company in Johannesburg. How do you negotiate the step up from the small to the large stage?  What different challenges do you face when working with either puppets or people?

 

WK: The previous work done with Handspring, including the chamber opera Il Ritorno d’Ulisse, was all of a chamber scale. Working with a full scale opera it was not so much a change in size of the stage but rather the size of the crew, the number of people in the rehearsal room: repetiteurs, language coaches, props, costumes, stage managers, and of course a conductor. Negotiating the different needs and demands that this expansion entails was the most difficult part of the change of scale.

The work with Handspring of course entailed working with both puppets, puppeteers and actors, usually all three together to make a character.

 

JW: Saul Bellow once described two of Mozart’s operas, Don Giovanni  and Cosi Fan Tutte, as  “miracles…comprehensive revelations of what eros can be in two such different outpourings of sound.” Your production brilliantly and beautifully exposes a kind of photographic negative of Mozart’s bright surface world and offers a properly ambiguous corrective, both political and aesthetic, to what you have elsewhere called “the pleasure of self-deception” that illusions can provide. But is The Magic Flute in any way miraculous to you?

 

WK: It is miraculous in the perfection of its music, and in its structure, for which I think it has often been unfairly criticized. I think the very awkwardnesses and contradictions in the libretto are also strengths. Obviously it is unlikely that the libretto on its own would have survived for 200 years, but I do think that the libretto has posed riddles and made place for uncertainties that have sustained new ways of interpreting and thinking about the astonishing music. The very combination of different musical styles within it is part of its strength, and for me ultimately the strongest critique of the world which Sarastro and opera ostensibly espouse.