Mozart’s renowned work The Marriage of Figaro is a farce featuring a complex, briskly unfolding narrative situated within a stratified society that is famously difficult to depict. However, David McVicar’s 18-year-old staging of Mozart’s opera – currently in its tenth iteration at the Royal Opera under McVicar’s leadership, continues to be remarkably clear and captivating. As has occurred on numerous prior occasions, McVicar has reconsidered and adjusted elements, skillfully tailoring it to his latest cast, and subtly altering focal points.
Tanya McCallin’s imaginative sets are a triumph, transitioning fluidly from one act to another, providing an elegant visual framework for the large ensemble’s richly textured portrayal of a microcosm of European society during a distinct historical epoch, all atmospherically illuminated by Paule Constable. McVicar breathes life into Mozart’s score with ceaseless movement, relocating the setting to Count Almaviva’s 1830s Spanish estate where the established structures of society face challenges.
This is a genuine ensemble performance, with no weak points anywhere; yet there are numerous outstanding individual portrayals. Soprano Ying Fang makes her company debut as Susanna, and her voice – both sweet and radiant – sounds delightful, and is infused with sensual elegance. Luca Micheletti, in the primary role, embodies a striking, energetic, ethically conscious Figaro, whose much-postponed union with Susanna is central to the drama: his expressive, robust baritone provides a solid base for an interpretation rooted in the Count’s servant acting on his instincts, even if he does not always accomplish everything correctly.
He faces off against Huw Montague Rendall’s Count Almaviva with considerable dignity, who at times appears notably fearful of this man he looks down upon. Montague Rendall – attractive and predatory, displays a more insistent sexual energy, though less inclined to violence than some of his forerunners. His attempts to seduce Susanna repeatedly falter due to a cross-class alliance between his wife and their staff. The promising baritone adopts a consistently impactful approach to the text and a creatively devised physical acting style that excels on every front.
His overlooked spouse, whose forgiveness of her husband’s infidelity brings Mozart’s score to its breathtaking conclusion, is performed by Maria Bengtsson, whose smooth soprano conveys not only the Countess’ vulnerability but also her ultimate transcendent resilience. She poignantly reveals the Countess’ inner turmoil with understated fervor, and is enchantingly gracious at the finale as she reconciles with her spouse. Fang’s luxurious tone complements that of Bengtsson’s, making the deceptions and mistaken identities of the concluding scenes appear entirely plausible.
The Countess’ budding attraction (though not explicitly acknowledged) to Cherubino (mezzo-soprano Ginger Costa-Jackson) is heavily implied in this production. Costa-Jackson vividly brings the youthful, woman-loving boy to life, all his movements impeccably enacted, and his two arias are among the highlights of the night, both musically and dramatically. Peter Kálmán presents the grotesquely comedic buffoon Bartolo with sharp clarity, while Rebecca Evans infuses a refreshing sophistication into the often-mocked Marcellina in her engagingly maternal, ultimately uplifting portrayal of the character.
Supporting roles feature Royal Opera veterans Adrian Thompson (a superbly rendered Don Basilio), Jeremy White (reprising his role as the bumbling gardener Antonio, whose comedic timing is impeccable), and Alasdair Elliott (lawyer Don Curzio). The chorus – consisting of the servants and retainers of the Almaviva household – observe, react to, and, at times, even engage in the primary narrative, and a group of additional performers contributes further depth and vibrancy to an already enriching visual experience.
Julia Jones returns to conduct with verve and skill, artfully mindful of both balance and pace while emphasizing Mozart’s remarkable orchestration abilities, amplifying the emotional peaks and valleys of the score and showcasing its considerable dramatic vigor.
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