Wicca symbols hold significant meaning and play a crucial role in Wiccan practices and beliefs. These symbols are visual representations that hold spiritual power and can be used for various purposes, such as protection, divination, and connection to deities or spirits. Symbol interpretations in Wicca depend on personal beliefs and traditions, but there are some common interpretations that many Wiccans share. The pentacle is one of the most well-known Wicca symbols. It is a five-pointed star enclosed in a circle. Each point represents one of the elements – earth, air, fire, water, and spirit – and the circle is a symbol of unity and protection.
Show Notes: No Intermission
A sublime fairy tale that moves freely between earthy comedy and noble mysticism, The Magic Flute Die Zauberflöte in the original German was written for a theater located just outside Vienna with the clear intention of appealing to audiences from all walks of life. The Met production of Così fan tutte uses the overture to introduce a coterie of performers a fire eater, a sword swallower, a snake handler, and a bearded lady, among other midway artists.
Each point represents one of the elements – earth, air, fire, water, and spirit – and the circle is a symbol of unity and protection. The pentacle is often used in rituals to invoke the energies of the elements and to draw upon their powers. The triple moon symbol is another widely recognized symbol in Wicca.
Metropolitan Opera 2022-23 Review: The Magic Flute
During the holiday season, the Met’s annual presentation of a family-friendly, abridged version of Mozart’s “The Magic Flute” sung in English is a treat for the young and the young-at-heart. The show’s runtime is shy of two hours, and the Julie Taymor production, though getting a bit dated, offers plenty of spectacle and goofiness to keep fidgety kids engaged. (While sung in English, this review uses the German titles of arias.)
The bare bones plot is one readily recognizable by children: a prince goes on a quest to find a princess who has been kidnapped. Throw in an evil queen and chatty sidekick, and you have all the ingredients found in a traditional fairy tale. This is “Flute’s” secret sauce; its ability to endure comes from its stunning music and the story’s timelessness.
After Mozart’s longtime collaborator, librettist Lorenzo da Ponte was booted from his position by royal command, Mozart’s hit-making but now scandal-ridden and impoverished librettist moved to the United States and ran various businesses. In 1828, he made his way back into opera and founded America’s first opera house, the New York Opera Company.
Meanwhile, back in Austria, Mozart was doubtlessly bummed by the loss of his librettist. Who could step into Da Ponte’s shoes? Enter Emanuel Schikaneder, an old friend of Mozart’s who had taken over the directorship of the Theater auf der Weiden, a.k.a. the Freyhaustheater. The impresario enjoyed significant success, staging operas, plays, and singspiel productions.
The details of how the Mozart/Schikaneder partnership came to be has been debated among musicologists, and there are not a few myths floating around, one positing that Schikaneder was destitute and couldn’t pay Mozart for his work, so the great composer took on writing a massive opera pro bono. That one is quite dubious; even Mozart had bills to pay. Besides, Schikaneder ran a highly successful troupe, which included Mozart’s sister-in-law, coloratura soprano Josepha Hofer, the originator of the Queen of the Night.
What’s true and what’s not surrounding “The Magic Flute” is fodder for fun speculation and has been for over two centuries, i.e., Mozart being murdered at the hands of fellow Masons or Mozart murdered by Salieri. Mozart and Schikaneder were both Masons, so if the Brothers were out to silence Mozart for revealing their secrets in operatic form, wouldn’t they take out Schikaneder, too? He wrote the story! No, boringly, Mozart’s death in 1791 was of illness. But before he left, he gave us “The Magic Flute.”
Kids are the Best Critics
While the operas written in collaboration with Da Ponte were huge successes and have forever remained in the repertoire, none have the magic of “Flute.” Departing from the sex farces written for the court, Mozart wrote what is considered the first popular musical—popular both in success and in nature. “Flute” was always meant to be entertainment for all. However, that didn’t strip the work of meaning, and here’s where the Masons enter the scene. Mozart’s involvement in the Brotherhood has been commented upon ad nauseam so that the point won’t be belabored in this review. The one aspect that should be pointed out, as it pertains to the Taymor production, in particular, is its use of Masonic symbolism, some of which comes right from the frontispiece of the original printed libretto, complete with circles, squares, triangles, and arches, along with the mysterious shapes akin to hieroglyphics.
So, there’s the background without too repetition of previous reviews and analyses. Let’s move on and look at the 2022-23 production’s opening night on Friday, December 16.
There is much to like about the abridged version, even as an adult. The full-length “Die Zauberflöte” can be a slog for those new to opera or the opera-curious. Encouraging this cohort to try the art form with the foreshortened version in English is a fantastic introduction. The Met lines up one show-stopping moment after another: from brilliant puppetry featuring enormous birds and dancing bears to three kids (the Three Spirits) suspended from the fly space singing the sweetest melodies. It’s one “Wow!” after another.
Kids are the best critics, and they don’t hold back their thoughts. The production has succeeded when they laugh at Papageno’s antics or ooh and ahh at the giant statues spitting flames from their heads. That’s important because it’s creatively re-thought shows like “Flute,” adapted specifically for children and non-opera-goers that create the next generation of opera fans, or so one hopes. What the kids hear regarding vocal virtuosity shouldn’t be discounted, but they’re not sitting back thinking, “Oh, no, the offstage choir was off by a beat.” That’s for others to pick up.
Strong Work from a Trio of Principals
Designed for children or not, Met audiences are due a world-class performance. The show’s opening night did not meet that standard, unfortunately.
Sometimes opening nights feel like a final dress rehearsal; this one felt like it was far earlier in the rehearsal process. Overall, the show was lifeless and vocally dull. The orchestra was molasses in its tempi. Cues were missed. And except for three of the principals, the singers appeared out of their element, to be paying more attention to producing the right notes than providing their characters with personality.
In an opera full of Masonic numerology revolving around the number three, it’s ironic that three of the principals gave the best performances of the evening. In the role of Princess Pamina, soprano Joélle Harvey had an excellent outing. Her voice is a sparkling coloratura, and she used a full range of dynamics and shading, providing a nuanced performance with personality. Her “Ach, ich fühl’s” was dreamy as she floated the high notes pianissimo, including high Bs. Harvey was playful, joyous, torn, in love, devastated… name the emotion, and Harvey nailed it, making her stage presence captivating and engaging.
Singing opposite Harvey was tenor Ben Bliss as Prince Tamino. Like his counterpart, Bliss came out swinging vocally and dramatically. Bliss’ brassiness lent a certain determined innocence to the character, and his acting was strong. Tamino’s takeaway number, “Dies Bildnis ist bezaudbernd schön,” isn’t full of vocal fireworks. Instead, it’s a touching love song full of longing and innocent desire. The aria is one during which you can close your eyes and have a solid understanding of what’s being sung, regardless of language. Like Harvey, Bliss appeared at home on stage and hammed up his frustration at Papageno’s chattiness, cowardice, and willingness to remain an ordinary bird catcher rather than gaining great wisdom.
In the role of the lovable bird man, Joshua Hopkins had a wonderful sense of comedic timing, played to the crowd, and as is typical, drew the most laughter outside of Monostatos (tenor Rowell Rosel) opening his bat-winged costume and flashing his comically hideous figure to scare away foes.
Harvey, Bliss, and Hopkins were the glue that held the shaky performance from falling apart.
The Struggles of a Queen and a Priest
Some may disagree, but the show’s true star is the Queen of the Night. She has the barn burner arias with which a coloratura can put jaws on the floor. It’s painful to say, but Alessandra Olczyk muddled her way through both “Zum Leiden” and “Der Hölle Rache.” She did not appear or sound ready for one of the highest-profile role in the opera. Olczyk’s movements were stilted and unexciting as she focused on the notes, looking too afraid to move. Queens of the Night don’t park and bark, but that’s what the audience got. Vocally, Olczyk was shaky—unstable—which was frightening knowing both arias’ demanding jumps, runs, and high notes. The mommy dearest of opera was missing in action, and the wicked vitality, menace, and over-the-top drama fell short. No doubt, Olczyk has big shoes to fill, and while the performance was her Met debut, she has sung the role at big-name houses in Germany and her native Poland. When all was sung and done, she still drew the loudest applause at curtain call, though the audience response to her arias was tepid.
Mozart likes to play with extremes. “Der Hölle Rache” tops out with an F6, while Sarastro bottoms out with an F2 in “Isis and Osiris.” These are generally the highest and lowest notes a soprano and bass are asked to sing, respectively. High notes are dangerous, and low notes are equally so. Basso profundos performing Sarastro should shake the floor. However, an unfortunate truth about being a bass is that some roles—Sarastro, one of them—require vocal maturity. This is not to the exclusion of younger basses, who do can navigate the deepest vocal trenches in music, but those are not the norm.
Soloman Howard is a great bass who has had a solid Met Opera career, but he, like Olczyk, came across as unsure and concerned about the notes. And like Olczyk, the role isn’t new to him, but the timidity stripped the booming character of its thunder gravity. The final F2 of “O Isis un Osiris” simply wasn’t there, and the maestro, Duncan Ward, brought the dynamics up to cover the singer’s exposure.
Why the Queen and Sarastro went vocally sideways is anyone’s guess, but when those two characters underperform, the opera pays dearly.
It consists of three moons – waxing, full, and waning – within a circle. This symbol represents the three phases of the moon and is associated with the Triple Goddess, a deity representing the maiden, mother, and crone. The triple moon symbol is often used to invoke the energies of the phases of the moon and to honor the cycles of life, death, and rebirth. Another important symbol in Wicca is the athame, a ceremonial dagger. The athame represents the element of fire and is often used in rituals for casting circles, directing energy, and cutting through spiritual barriers. It is seen as a tool of transformation and is believed to help focus intention and willpower. The cauldron is a symbol of transformation and the element of water. It is used in rituals for brewing potions, scrying, and connecting with the spirit world. The cauldron represents the womb of the Goddess and is often associated with feminine energy and the power of creation. Many other symbols are used in Wicca, such as the wand, chalice, besom, and pentagram. Each symbol holds its own interpretations and is used in specific rituals and practices. It is important to note that while there are general interpretations for these symbols, Wicca is a highly personal and individualized practice. Wiccans often develop their own connections and meanings for these symbols based on their personal experiences, beliefs, and traditions. These symbols serve as reminders of the interconnectedness of all things and provide a visual language for Wiccans to communicate and connect with the divine..
Reviews for "Mystical Languages: Deciphering Wiccan Symbolic Codes"
- John - 2 stars - As someone who practices a different form of paganism, I found this book to be quite disappointing. The interpretations of Wiccan symbols felt oversimplified and lacked depth. Additionally, the explanations provided for each symbol were too brief and often missed important historical and cultural contexts. Overall, I did not find this book valuable in deepening my understanding of Wiccan symbolism.
- Sarah - 1 star - I was highly disappointed with "Wicca Symbol Interpretations." The interpretations provided in this book felt cliché and shallow. It seemed like the author merely scratched the surface of each symbol, without delving into the complexities and multifaceted meanings they can hold. The lack of in-depth analysis made it difficult for me to connect with the symbols on a deeper level, which is what I was hoping to achieve from this book.
- Emily - 2 stars - While the book attempted to provide interpretations of Wiccan symbols, I found the explanations to be vague and lacking substance. The author's writing style was also quite convoluted and hard to follow. As someone new to Wicca, I was hoping for a more accessible and comprehensive guide to symbol interpretation. Unfortunately, this book fell short of my expectations and left me feeling confused and unsatisfied with the information provided.