Although written many years before Rossini's The Barber of Seville, the story of The Marriage of Figaro is in fact the sequel to that of the later opera. This farcical masterpiece of the opera buffa style was the first of three operas Mozart worked on with the Italian librettist Lorenzo da Ponte and was a risky undertaking. This somewhat political comedy pokes fun at the aristocracy, and paints one of its lead characters, Count Almaviva, as a jealous and lecherous fool who uses his status to force women into bed with him – something his wife, the Countess, is none too happy about. The original play was banned by the Viennese censors, and da Ponte had to tread carefully when adapting it for operatic stage, changing what should have been an aria about the problems of inherited aristocracy into one about the faithlessness of wives, and tweaking the dialogue to make the count appear to be less of an imbecile than in the play. Pleasing the censors was all-important; in 18th-century Europe an opera that couldn't be performed in Vienna was hardly an opera at all.
Mozart's resulting masterpiece is not only one of his most popular operas, but one of the most popular operas by any composer. As with any popular work, theatre directors and designers are always trying to shed new light on it, and take it in new directions. This Bavarian State Opera production takes simplicity as its starting point, with a very minimalist set, consisting of nothing more than a large plain white room, which takes up the entire stage. This focuses attention towards the singers on stage, while adding the freshness and lightness so vital for a farcical comedy such as this.
Following a sprightly and lyrical rendition of the overture from the Bayerisches Staatsorchester, with Dan Ettinger on the podium, we entered the bedroom of the soon-to-be wedded couple, Figaro (Luca Pisaroni) and Susanna (Laura Tatulescu). Their little lovers' tiff, sparked by Susanna's concern that their new bedroom lies a little too close to the salacious Count's for comfort, began somewhat unevenly, with Tatulescu being no match for Pisaroni's generous baritone. However, this impression didn't last, and as she warmed into the performance through this first scene her characterful singing showed her to be not only a wonderful soprano, but a brilliant comic actress, using all of her body language, the words, and the music to enhance the comic effect.
As if Susanna didn't have enough to be getting on with, the youthful page Cherubino (a trouser role, played by soprano Angela Brower) also takes something of a shine to her (though he seems to fall for any female in his line of sight). Brower's rendition of Cherubino's song was simultaneously moving and comic, full of colour but always light and flowing. However, the young man causes something of a kerfuffle when the Count (Simon Keenlyside) discovers him in Susanna's bedroom. Keenlyside's comic style is perfect for this role, and in this particular scene he creates moments that make the audience laugh out loud.