The Marriage of Figaro, ENO: Who needs props when a production's this fabulous?

Telegraph

06-02-2025

Doors are crucial in Mozart's supremely witty comedy
Still, in this opera you don't expect to be confronted by nothing more than a set of four white doors in a white box, even if the box then turns out to be moveable and can travel up, down and backwards: the plainness puts a huge weight on the characters, who have to actively compensate for the absence of any props, chairs or other supports. This they do in Joe Hill-Gibbins's sparky production: behind every door, there is a story, characters appear mute from the doors when they are being sung about. Susanna and the Countess don't have a table on which to write a letter to the Count, so he appears between them, and Cherubino is hidden behind an open door rather than under a sheet.
It doesn't all work, and slightly runs out of steam in the last act, as the white box retreats to the back of the stage, giving the singers almost too much space. Much of the success of this characterful show must be down to Jenny Ogilvie, whose movement direction creates a constant stream of striking, angular stage pictures. It enables telling relationships, often clustering the characters together as in the hilarious sextet in which Figaro's would-be bride Marcellina is revealed as his mother.
This production received only a one-night stand in 2020 before lockdown closed our theatres, and is now revived with a new cast, except for the superb Hanna Hipp as the young Cherubino who overcomes the sacrilegiously sleazy dance treatment of her sublime Act II aria and does a genuine leap from a door onto a waiting mattress.
The distressed Countess of Nardus Williams is wonderfully supple of tone, cleanly shaped in both her arias, matched by a lovely solo oboe, her sensuality longing for release. Mary Bevan is more strongly profiled as her maid Susanna, forceful in the many ensembles and then touching in her Act IV aria. David Ireland is a bumptiously assertive Figaro, and Cody Quattlebaum makes a notable debut as a lithe, crisp Count. Rebecca Evans's unusually emotional Marcellina makes one wish she were allowed her Act IV aria, which as normal is cut, and there is excellent support from Neal Davies as Bartolo and Ava Dodd as Barbarina.
Under conductor Ainãrs Rubiķis, the music is driven along with propulsive speeds, and the occasional dislocation between stage and pit can be put down to expressive freedom. The effervescent orchestra and the busy chorus demonstrate what precious assets ENO has in these resources. The evening never drags: Jeremy Sams's ultra-clever text is arguably more a new libretto than a translation, but it is intelligible, funny, and on opening night was hugely enjoyed by all.
Until Feb 22;