For most weddings, problems are confined to transport arrangements, unreliable caterers and the inevitable risk that an unhelpful ex might raise an objection at a crucial point in the ceremony. Mozart’s Le nozze di Figaro is every bride-to-be’s nightmare – a lecherous employer, family drama, and other people’s relationships raining on prenuptial bliss.
English National Opera’s revival of Joe Hill-Gibbin’s production – staged for a single night in 2020 before Covid shut down theatres – has many strong points, but elements of the staging itself remain dubious. Johannes Schütz’s set is a white shoebox of four doors, an unholy marriage of IKEA and a budget clothing shop’s changing room. It’s flimsy and it looks cheap, for which inevitably some forgiveness must be given due to the much-publicised budgetary torments of the embattled company. Hiding must be done behind doors on this barren set, making practical elements fall flat in places. There’s a certain elegance to the concept: the idea of “behind door number one”, the idea of paths not taken, and the acts that take place behind closed doors, but it feels confused in places. The production occasionally relies on tired posturing – characters squeezed together or frozen in time – but is at its best when it allows the principals to breathe; at those times, the quality of the Personenregie is very high.
This revival is dominated by Mary Bevan, who provides one of the best sung Susannas I have heard. Bevan gave us immaculate diction – what a treat in a house that has so often struggled with this – and instilled a sense of nuance to the text. Her ample voice filled the Coliseum, a sense of line always present and her higher register positively glittering. Musically, a delight, and in her assumption of the role she presented an earthier, more robust Susanna than many; here is a maid who could probably drink you under the table and still be partying at five in the morning, more than a match for the men in the Almaviva household, but also a reminder, perhaps, that anyone can be a victim. Juxtaposed against Bevan was the Countess of Nardus Williams, again showing fine diction. Williams’ movements were graceful and soft, her manner almost ethereal, as if transported to this rather unseemly scenario from a lighter, brighter land. In many respects, Williams’ performance was defined by grief, the effect of her misery physically rippling through her in a tremendously moving first appearance in Act 2. Bright-toned, well-projected and confidently delivered, there was much to enjoy here; Bevan and Williams alone make this revival worth hearing.
David Ireland gave an uxorious Figaro, with perhaps less in the way of wits and more in the way of brawn. Diction varied on occasion and he took a little while to warm up – the size of the house doesn’t help, and encouraged a slight declamatory tendency – but I warmed to his rather bilious denunciation in Act 4, text delivered with misogynist venom, subverting our belief in his fundamental ‘heroic’ nature. Making his house debut, Cody Quattlebaum’s man-bunned Almaviva was appropriately dislikeable; a little thin in the lower register, but burly in the upper-middle. As the cast cheerfully hug and frolic at the conclusion of the opera, he is noticeably separated from company, the last man standing as all skip to the rear – a powerful image of confused ostracism. Hanna Hipp’s gawky Cherubino, transformed by uniform into a goose-stepping traffic warden, struggled to contend with the size of the auditorium, but brought comic vim to every scene.
In the smaller roles, Neal Davies particularly impressed with a forcefully sung Bartolo, every inch the self-important small town solicitor with a minor scandal in the cupboard. In her all-too brief appearance, Ava Dodd showed a winning stage presence and pearly soprano as Barbarina, one to watch. Rebecca Evans was delightfully entertaining as Marcellina and Hubert Francis gave a joyously sleazy Don Basilio.
In the pit, Ainārs Rubiķis led a zesty reading of the score which, a few horn issues aside, bobbed along brightly. Not a perfect production, by any means, but some excellent singing makes this a strong revival to catch.
