Ticket for Glyndebourne Magic Flute 2019

Magic Flute at Glyndebourne

A rich score, strong vocal lines and scintillating conversation at Glyndebourne at a performance of Barbe and Doucet’s production of Mozart’s Magic Flute

Yesterday was only my second trip to Glyndebourne. Last time it was Rape of Lucretia (2013). This time, Glyndebourne’s first production of Mozart’s Magic Flute in ten years.

Some travel challenges presented themselves early on. Pro tip: the London train to Lewes leaves from London Victoria not Waterloo, and it will take you twelve minutes to get from one station to the next using the Tube. Also, be sure to take account of the gradients in Sussex (the height is in grey on Google Maps so not immediately obvious). Some of those hills are a bastard to climb. I managed arrive an hour before the performance began with bike grease on my trousers. Also, I am fairly certain I was one of only two people there who flouted the assumed dress code. No dinner jacket for me. Just loose slacks, a flowery shirt, and deck shoes.

Glyndebourne 2019 production of Magic Flute by Barbe and Doucet was a feast for the eyes. The set design was playful. Costume design – Sarastro and the Priests, and Papageno – had a delightful whiff of Alice in Wonderland about it.

The strong vocal lines made this an unexpectedly immersive experience exploring what was a surprisingly rich complex score. Queen of the Night solo was a remarkable feat deserving of the rapturous and extended applause soprano Caroline Wettergreen received. Magic moment of the entire performance: when Pamina and Tamino sang their duet – the opening octave sung by Pamina pierced my heart and tickled the tear glands.

What made this a special experience was the conversation. I ended up going because a friend of mine from yesteryear had a ticket going spare. We met up beforehand for the obligatory picnic, only to discover that a couple of others we knew from the classical music world were also present. Easy conversation – a mix of giggling, commenting, and discussion – flowed. The time raced by.

“We’ve not had a bike before,” said the cloakroom attendant when I left my Brompton

The social aspect of classical music and opera experiences represents a new development for me. For a long time I’ve seen my attendance at events as something for me or the blog or podcast – a wholly singular experience. I’ve seen people at those events but usually assumed that my presence on proceedings would be an imposition on their plans – a mild kind of imposter syndrome I suppose.

Meeting people at events and (importantly) having sufficient time to engage with them without having to rush makes the experience as a whole all the richer. Feeling able to discuss a subject I have a huge amount of background information about (I know little about Mozart’s operas about from Marriage of Figaro) without judgment is a special thing too and throws into start contrast my experience of similar exchanges on Twitter which in recent months have felt rather spikey. That some of the people I was there having those discussions with were people I had known for 25 years made it all the more heartwarming.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *