The polished floor, scrubbed so assiduously by the long-suffering servant upon
whom the curtain rises, gleams and glistens — despite the heavy footfall of
domestics bustling about their business under the watchful gaze of an imperious
housekeeper. The chandeliers glint and sparkle, under Paule Constable’s
beautiful lighting; there are some breath-taking moments such as the twilight
transition between the final two Acts, as the interior of
the chateau imperceptibly metamorphoses into an enchanted nocturnal garden.
Costumes are similarly eye-catching and visually there is scarcely an
anachronistic note — indeed, McCallin could probably teach the producers of
Downton Abbey a thing or two about period detail.
It’s a shame, then, that the shine seems to have been wiped off the drama
itself, for this was a rather lacklustre and untidy performance of an opera
which should fizz and glide along effortlessly.
Things got off to a messy start, with both Luca Pisaroni (Figaro) and Lucy
Crowe (Susanna) uncomfortably behind Sir John Eliot Gardiner’s beat in the
opening numbers. Also, while both are experienced in their respective roles,
there was a lack of frisson between them and they didn’t make for a
convincing pair of nearly-weds. One might have put the hitches at the start
down to first-night jitters, but matters didn’t really improve and the
general ensemble and cohesion between stage and pit were ragged throughout the
evening — Eliot Gardiner did not seem inclined to wait for his singers.
The absence of dramatic spark was a pervasive weakness — and a real
problem in an opera dominated by action-packed ensembles. Although the servants
buzzed about frenetically, the principals often seemed rather listless and
lacking in dramatic authority. McCallin’s slickly sliding sets juxtapose the
elegant luxury of the aristocrats’ chambers with the threadbare sparseness of
the servants’ garrets, and these crossing interfaces reveal the co-dependence
of the two worlds, for the opera is all about interaction — between the
classes and the genders. Here, however, the intersecting dramatic threads were
only loosely woven.
Pisaroni was a tall, handsome Figaro; he has a weighty voice across the
range, a glossy tone, a pleasing legato and a relaxed delivery. However, while
‘Se vuol ballare’ was injected with real anger and indignation, in general
the sound was rather uniform; more variety would have better conveyed the
crafty quick-wittedness of the ever-resourceful valet.
Lucy Crowe matched her fiancÈ for fury and ferocity in Act 1; not afraid to
act with her voice, she was vivacious in the recitatives. Perhaps she sometimes
erred too far on the side of feistiness; in later Acts she allowed the fun and
ingenuity of the guileful servant to rise to the fore, and as a consequence her
voice took on a softer more charming hue. Although Crowe strayed a little sharp
in the closing passages of the Act 2 Finale, her last-act serenade was poised
Christopher Maltman’s Count Almaviva is a thoroughly unpleasant autocrat,
conscious of his power and not reticent in using it to intimidate his wife and
servants alike. Maltman snarled through some of the Count’s more aggressive
moments; his Act 3 vengeance aria was particularly coarse. But, though the
Count may be a selfish cad and a bullying egoist, surely he must have some
charm too — otherwise, why would the Countess forgive him?
Swedish soprano Maria Bengtsson seemed somewhat nervous at the start of
‘Porgi amor’ — the first lines of the aria were noticeably lacking in
consonants; perhaps she felt overly exposed by the light, crisp textures
conjured by Eliot Gardiner. She did warm up vocally though and by the end of
Act 2 found a richer, fuller sound; ‘Dove sono’ was characterised by a
joyful glow, especially at the top, and Bengtsson demonstrated a tender,
alluring piano. But, dramatically she remained slightly diffident
which diminished the impact of the recitatives, most noticeably in the
marvellously convoluted Finale to Act 2.
Renata Pokupi? was credibly pubescent in mannerism, but her Cherubino coped
surprisingly coolly with the trials and tribulations of love — where was the
teenage torment, the agony of pubescent passion? Pokupi?, too, began a little
hesitantly in ‘Non so pi˘’, but she subsequently revealed a well-shaped,
sweet-toned mezzo lyricism and ‘Voi che sapete’ deserved its warm applause.
Helene Schneiderman gave a superb performance as Marcellina, striking just
the right balance between comedy and caricature, and between malice —
spitefully kicking over Susanna’s basket of clean washing —and mischief,
playfully cavorting with Bartolo on Figaro’s bed.
Carlos Chausson made heavy work of Bartolo’s ‘La vendetta’, which was
somewhat ponderous and humourless — if you can hear the individual words in
the patter, it’s too slow. As the oleaginous music-master, Don Basilio,
Jean-Paul FouchÈcourt sang with an apt dash of derision but did not make the
most of the opportunities for preening narcissism. Alasdair Elliott and Lynton
Black were solid as Don Curzio and Antonio respectively. Mary Bevan, making her
Royal Opera House debut, was a fine, technically assured Barbarina.
Things crackled along in the pit, with Eliot Gardiner keeping the tempos
brisk and the textures crisp, but even this couldn’t overcome the muting
effect of — excepting the aggression of Maltman’s brutal Count — the
low-key dramatic interplay on stage. This revival comes just eighteenth months
since the last staging in spring 2012; and the production will be seen again in
May next year. Given that there were a fair number of empty seats at this
opening night, one wonders whether this Figaro needs a bit of a rest,
in order to revive its comic energy and effervescence.
Cast and production information:
Figaro, Luca Pisaroni; Susanna, Lucy Crowe; Cherubino, Renata
Pokupi?; Count Almaviva, Christopher Maltman; Countess Almaviva, Maria
Bengtsson; Bartolo, Carlos Chausson; Marcellina, Helene Schneiderman; Don
Basilio, Jean-Paul FouchÈcourt; Don Curzio, Alasdair Elliott, Antonio; Lynton
Black; Barbarina, Mary Bevan; David McVicar, director; Tanya McCallin,
designer; Paule Constable, lighting designer; Leah Hausman, movement director;
John Eliot Gardiner, conductor; Royal Opera House Chorus; Orchestra of the
Royal Opera House. Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, Monday 16th
product_title=W A Mozart : Le nozze di Figaro
product_by=A review by Claire Seymour