Teatro Municipale di Piacenza 2025 Review: The Magic Flute

(Photo Credit: ©Gianni Cravedi)Emanuel Schikaneder, a prolific stage comedian, singer, and skilled impresario, proposed to Mozart the creation of a new singspiel–a form of German musical theater that alternates spoken dialogue without musical accompaniment–in response to the enduring hegemony of Italian opera, which had long dominated European stages. The entrepreneur’s brilliant insight, as highlighted by Mattia Marino Merlo in the program notes, was to approach Mozart himself–ironically, a composer who had significantly contributed to the flourishing of Italian opera–and offer him an original libretto, crafted by Schikaneder himself from a variety of exotic sources. He also provided Mozart with lodging near the Theater auf der Wieden where rehearsals and performances would take place.

In 1791 and just a few months before the Salzburg genius’s death, Mozart’s final great masterpiece, “The Magic Flute,” was born. But this work is far more than a magical tale or a piece of popular entertainment. From its successful premiere, it marked a turning point in German opera, laying the foundations for a new kind of musical theater.



Mozart brought forth innovative ideas and skillfully fused tragedy and comedy, gravity and levity, into a revolutionary singspiel that weaves together the straightforward language of fairy tales with a symbolic and moral complexity rooted in the Masonic worldview.In co-production with the Teatro Comunale di Ferrara, the Teatro Municipale di Piacenza presented a new staging of this multifaceted Mozartian work. Stage direction was entrusted to Marco Bellussi, who set the action in a dark, dreamlike atmosphere with mysterious overtones.

It was an ideal setting for contemplation and knowledge. The spoken dialogues were translated into Italian, while the musical sections remained in German. Unfortunately, the pacing of the performance felt rushed and uneven: the scenes appeared isolated and disconnected from one another, and this, coupled with the language shifts, made it difficult for the audience to remain engaged as the performance progressed.

The solemn moments such as the opening scene (in which Bellussi replaced the serpent with the contents of a book), Sarastro’s appearances with the priests, or the trial sequences, were handled with appropriate seriousness. However, the comedic scenes, especially those featuring Papageno, fell flat and lacked charm. In moments that should have sparked laughter, such as the bird-man’s suicide attempt or the humorous quintet “Hm! hm! hm! hm!” with the padlock on his mouth, the audience remained unmoved.

Onstage, conceived as a black box, Matteo Paoletti Frazato installed three antique-filled bookshelves on a rotating platform that remained throughout the entire performance. This was a clear allusion to the Age of Enlightenment, to boundless knowledge, and to the recurring tripartite elements in the opera: three ladies, three boys, three trials, an unmistakable reference to Masonic symbolism. Elisa Cobello’s elegant and somber costumes evoked Northern Europe of the 17th century, with the exception of Papageno’s outfit, which alluded to traditional Tyrolean attire.

Marco Cazzola’s lighting design highlighted the beauty of the bookcases as well as the video projections by Fabio Massimo Iaquone, which visually enriched the action from the overture to the final curtain.From the pit, Massimo Raccanelli led the Orchestra Città di Ferrara with unquestionable command of the Mozartian style, demonstrated through crisp final cadences and unwavering fidelity to the score (Bärenreiter Edition). The tempi were academically precise, dynamics expressively managed, and volume expertly balanced, allowing the conductor to shine at the podium.

Although he kept his attention primarily on the orchestra, probably because he is also a cellist, he never neglected the singers, giving them clear cues, mouthing the text along with them, and offering continuous guidance.A true standout of the night was Leonor Bonilla as Pamina. The Spanish soprano dazzled with a powerful and clear upper range, elegant phrasing, and a warm timbre.

Her deeply emotional portrayal culminated in a heart-wrenching rendition of “Ach, ich fühl’s, es ist verschwunden!,” which earned her enthusiastic applause. Her Tamino, portrayed by Antonio Mandrillo, capably fulfilled the role of the valiant prince. The tenor, with an intriguing vocal quality, had moments that felt stiff and colorless.

Although his aria “Dies Bildnis ist bezaubernd schön” stood out thanks to his refined phrasing and careful delivery.Claudia Urru also delivered an impeccable Queen of the Night. The Italian soprano showcased flawless coloratura and clean, accurate, resonant high notes.

However, the decision to keep her immobile atop a bookshelf during her arias was a regrettable staging choice. Her rendition of “O zittre nicht, mein lieber Sohn” was masterful and foreshadowed the resounding success of “Der Hölle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen,” for which she rightly received a standing ovation. In stark contrast, Dmitrii Grigorev’s Sarastro was one of the evening’s low points.

The bass fell far short of his colleagues: his voice was throaty, his diction unintelligible, his low notes inaudible and out of tune, and his high notes forced and unstable. This was a surprising disappointment.Gianluca Failla’s Papageno fared much better.

Despite the uninspired stage directions, he delivered a performance full of charm and energy. The baritone boasted a beautiful middle register, lively vocal phrasing, and remarkable physical stamina: he ran, jumped, and carried his fellow performers with ease, all while singing in tune and without tiring. His two arias, and especially the duet with Papagena, were among the most warmly received moments of the evening.

Alessandra Adorno as Papagena performed with wit, comedic flair, and solid vocal technique. Equally effective and musically compelling was Lorenzo Martelli as the villainous Monostatos, with strong stage presence.The Three Ladies: Gesua Gallifoco, Silvia Caliò and Janessa Shae O’Hearn shone with their tight harmonies, refinement, and energetic stage presence.

Equally impressive were the three young and talented child geniuses: Khloe Kurti, Lorenzo Pigozzo and Giovanni Maria Zanini. They performed with confidence, precision, and strong musicality; a clear result of careful preparation and coaching.The supporting roles were no less impressive, each performed with attention and quality.

Gianluca Convertino as a commanding and well-defined Speaker, while baritone Giulio Riccò and tenor Carlo Enrico Confalonieri, as first and second priests and soldiers, gave standout performances both vocally and dramatically, adding substance to roles that are often overlooked.The post Teatro Municipale di Piacenza 2025 Review: The Magic Flute appeared first on OperaWire..