After its splendid run of L'elisir d'amore in 2019, Glyndebourne Tour has seized upon Donizetti’s other great comedy, Don Pasquale, to lighten its 2021 offerings. Mariame Clément’s eye-catching production has been in the Glyndebourne stable for a good ten years and has clearly aged well. Under revival director Paul Higgins, it is a brisk and lively affair with no trace of rust in the gears and wheels of the nifty tripartite set which rotates from Norina’s rather grotty accommodation (excluding the free-standing bathtub... with room for two!), to the rather more elegant quarters of the Don and thence into the cluttered teenage bedroom of his nephew, Ernesto. Julia Hansen’s costumes are a lavish riot of colour and texture with not a hint of a cobweb. Every hair of this revival is immaculately groomed.
The sole chink in the otherwise shining armour of Clément’s production – particularly emphasised in this revival – is in its remorseless malice towards the titular toff while at the same time making him a far more sympathetic character than he might otherwise appear. By doing so, much of the joy of the comedy – a pompous bullying windbag being thoroughly deflated – is tinged with discomfort, particularly when Pasquale is placed so clearly in contrast to Ernesto. The latter is always somewhat of a drip, but here he becomes positively dislikeable, a spoilt brat of a nephew with an untidy bedroom, a surly demeanour and a distinct tendency towards teenage angst. Pasquale, by contrast, is shown as an old man in clear ill-health – the range of medications and constant clutching of the chest, acted out here with sometimes alarming realism, are a constant presence – whose ham-fisted plan to do his best for his provocative ward spirals into an ill-advised attempt at a priapic Indian Summer.
Minor misgivings on this aside, Higgins’ recital is tightly executed and benefits from an excellent ensemble which provides a performance of bravura bel canto. Our doddering Don was sung by Ricardo Seguel whose acting was noticeable for its attention to detail and nuance. His bass-baritone is a plush, flexible instrument, noticeably warm in its lower reaches, and Seguel dispatched the famous patter duet in Act 3 with flair, the voice losing none of its power even at the music’s fastest moments. Mariam Battistelli was a feisty Norina, deploying her silver-toned soprano to vivid effect in an array of glossy trills. Generous in her ornamentation and with a clear grasp of comic timing, Battistelli made an ideal stage diva.