Saturday, August 13th, we got a late start, then went to Marika’s local farmers’ 
market, where Mary Joy and Marika did some shopping, while I went scouting for Wi-Fi. I found it at Starbucks, so we had some coffee and caught up with e-mails.
Late that afternoon, we caught an S-Bahn to the Wannsee, one of the places Berliners get away to on weekends. We took a ferry across to Kladow, walked around a little, had coffee and pastries at an outdoor restaurant, then took the
ferry back. I've never seen more sailboats on a lake at one time, even on Lake Minnetonka.
We caught the S-Bahn again, going back one stop to Nikolassee, where we got off and caught the bus to the gigantic Seebad Wannsee (Wannsee Lake Bathing) complex. The roads were filled with people driving, biking and walking to the opera.
The original idea had been that there would be a floating stage, out in the lake, with spectators viewing from the shore. We saw such a stage when we were overnighting at Bregenz, Austria, in 2000, so there is plenty of experience with ironing out the difficulties with such a production. There is a beautiful view of
the Wannsee Seebuehne (Lake Stage) on the covers of the production’s brochure and program. Unfortunately, this was as much a fantasy as the opera itself, The Magic Flute. Apparently, the obstacles to building such a stage were too great, so it was set up, instead, behind the bathing complex.
One good result was that they had to reconfigure the bleacher seating, so Marika, Mary Joy and I ended up in better seats than we would otherwise have had—high up, but nearly dead center.
The performance itself was wonderful, though opera fanatics might not agree. At the center of the stage was a large pyramid, hollowed out in a circle. There was a catwalk from one side to the other. In front were fake trees and rocks, to provide hiding places. There were a volcano for the trial by fire, rain for the trial by water and fireworks for the celebration at the end. For the first appearance of the Queen of the Night, she was suspended by a crane. It must have been difficult to sing her first aria while one of the stiff wings on her costume was accidentally banging into a light fixture.
She sang it very well. The singing was generally of a high caliber, especially by the South African tenor playing Tamino. Sarastro, noticeably, took a while to
get into voice. There were two unusual things about the voices. The star of the show, as is only fitting, but not usually recognized, was the Papageno, who rather than being an opera singer, was a TV actor. He handled the comic bits wonderfully well, but his voice was not at all comparable to the usual Papageno, such as Haakon Hagegaard in Ingmar Bergman’s film of The Magic Flute. On the other hand, the
tenor who sings Monostatos usually sings it with a creaky, comical voice. This Monostatos was a young Portuguese tenor who is more used to singing roles like the Duke of Mantua in Rigoletto, and he sounded wonderful. Although alternate Taminos trade off on alternate nights, I would not be surprised if this Monostatos were the understudy for Tamino. In addition, the three Spirits, roles for boy sopranos, were sung by adult women instead. This made for singing that was stronger but less ethereal.
market, where Mary Joy and Marika did some shopping, while I went scouting for Wi-Fi. I found it at Starbucks, so we had some coffee and caught up with e-mails.
Late that afternoon, we caught an S-Bahn to the Wannsee, one of the places Berliners get away to on weekends. We took a ferry across to Kladow, walked around a little, had coffee and pastries at an outdoor restaurant, then took the
ferry back. I've never seen more sailboats on a lake at one time, even on Lake Minnetonka.
We caught the S-Bahn again, going back one stop to Nikolassee, where we got off and caught the bus to the gigantic Seebad Wannsee (Wannsee Lake Bathing) complex. The roads were filled with people driving, biking and walking to the opera.
The original idea had been that there would be a floating stage, out in the lake, with spectators viewing from the shore. We saw such a stage when we were overnighting at Bregenz, Austria, in 2000, so there is plenty of experience with ironing out the difficulties with such a production. There is a beautiful view of
the Wannsee Seebuehne (Lake Stage) on the covers of the production’s brochure and program. Unfortunately, this was as much a fantasy as the opera itself, The Magic Flute. Apparently, the obstacles to building such a stage were too great, so it was set up, instead, behind the bathing complex.
One good result was that they had to reconfigure the bleacher seating, so Marika, Mary Joy and I ended up in better seats than we would otherwise have had—high up, but nearly dead center.
The performance itself was wonderful, though opera fanatics might not agree. At the center of the stage was a large pyramid, hollowed out in a circle. There was a catwalk from one side to the other. In front were fake trees and rocks, to provide hiding places. There were a volcano for the trial by fire, rain for the trial by water and fireworks for the celebration at the end. For the first appearance of the Queen of the Night, she was suspended by a crane. It must have been difficult to sing her first aria while one of the stiff wings on her costume was accidentally banging into a light fixture.
She sang it very well. The singing was generally of a high caliber, especially by the South African tenor playing Tamino. Sarastro, noticeably, took a while to
get into voice. There were two unusual things about the voices. The star of the show, as is only fitting, but not usually recognized, was the Papageno, who rather than being an opera singer, was a TV actor. He handled the comic bits wonderfully well, but his voice was not at all comparable to the usual Papageno, such as Haakon Hagegaard in Ingmar Bergman’s film of The Magic Flute. On the other hand, the
tenor who sings Monostatos usually sings it with a creaky, comical voice. This Monostatos was a young Portuguese tenor who is more used to singing roles like the Duke of Mantua in Rigoletto, and he sounded wonderful. Although alternate Taminos trade off on alternate nights, I would not be surprised if this Monostatos were the understudy for Tamino. In addition, the three Spirits, roles for boy sopranos, were sung by adult women instead. This made for singing that was stronger but less ethereal.
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