Mario Bautista
The cast of The Marriage of Figaro | Photo: Clive Barda
I seem to be alone in the heresy of finding Figaro one act too long, so I was delighted to encounter this revival of David McVicar’s classic production which, unusually, engaged me to the very last note. The staging is clear of narrative in its sun-drenched updating to the 1830s – Paule Constable’s mellow lighting is perfect – and McVicar keeps the action flowing; he returned to work with this cast and it showed. The characters are relatable and clearly the audience enjoyed meeting them.
He judges his viewer well; there is enough of a nudge towards emerging socialist and feminist ideas, but handled with a light touch. The surtitles are complicit, and the Count begging his wife for forgiveness is not translated and doesn’t get the usual British sniggering. For once the laughter throughout was natural and spontaneous; if it had been a play the director would have built in pauses for the audience to recover its sobriety.
Julia Jones conducted with authority. She kept the pace propulsive but created moments of relaxation, and she built the finales adroitly. She also allowed some decoration, appoggiaturas and the odd turn, and kept the orchestral sound bright and crisp, the brass pleasingly muted, with Mark Packwood at the fortepiano providing sharp continuo. Luca Micheletti proved a Figaro to reckon with, mercurial of temperament, bright of baritone. Ying Fang, who’s making waves with a string of important debuts, was a radiant Susanna. Her soprano is not large but perfectly focussed, with pearly tone, and she has charm.
A creamier sound came from Maria Bengtsson’s Countess. Her muted second verse of ‘Dove sono’ created one of those rare moments of magical hush as the audience held its breath as one. Opposite her swaggered the Count of Huw Montague Rendall, all posture and panic, sailing stylishly through his Act III aria. Ginger Costa-Jackson slightly overplayed Cherubino , but the crowd loved her and she was certainly vivid. Rebecca Evans, previously a Susanna and Countess, is now Marcellina who can actually sing her aria with beauty of tone (unlike many), and Peter Kálmán worked well with her as Bartolo. And plaudits for stand-in Marianna Hovanisyan, making a promising house debut as Barbarina.
On paper I would have thought the cast more suited to the relative intimacy of Glyndebourne, but the performance obviously communicated right to the back of the amphitheatre and the audience response was duly appreciative.
