Le nozze di Figaro review — raw emotional power from a top-notch cast

Times

30-06-2025

We are told The Marriage of Figaro has been performed 588 times at Glyndebourne. My memories don't quite go back to 1934, but I cannot recall seeing any Figaro here with as much detail — either in depicting the upstairs-downstairs bustle of an 18th-century aristocrat's home or in the grippingly nuanced acting — that Mariame Clément obtains in this new staging.
Part of that is down to immaculate historical research. The set's wall paintings and the costumes, whether for gentry or yokels, are derived from the pastel-shaded landscapes of Louis Carrogis Carmontelle (an apt inspiration, as he painted a famous portrait of the boy Mozart), with a nod to Fragonard's The Swing in the final act. And Julia Hansen's sets continually revolve to reveal everything from boudoirs to boot rooms, with handfuls of household servants constantly popping up.
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Of course a revolving stage is always a hostage to fortune. This one broke down for 20 minutes before Act IV — a hiatus just long enough to cause many of the first-night audience to miss the last London train.
It also slightly dissipated the raw emotional power that Clément coaxes from an excellent cast as they brutally expose the fissures tearing apart the marriage of Huw Montague Rendall's vicious, caddish Count and Louise Alder's clearly terrified Countess. And brutal is the word. Their blazing Act II row must be hard to watch for anyone in the audience who has experienced domestic violence. It's all the more effective because Alder, who sings sumptuously throughout, never misses a note — even with Rendall wringing her neck. And though there's plenty of ripe comedy elsewhere, that scene has an ominous impact that cascades through to the end, which is far from feel-good.
Elsewhere, too, there is fine singing and vivid characterisation. Michael Nagl's Figaro is a lumbering giant, big in voice and heart but perhaps not in brain, constantly needing prodding from Johanna Wallroth's delightfully animated Susanna. Another Glyndebourne newcomer, the French mezzo Adèle Charvet sings Cherubino with a notably sonorous tone. And the seasoned Alessandro Corbelli and Madeleine Shaw milk plenty of laughs as Bartolo and Marcellina.
About the conducting I have more reservations. Riccardo Minasi certainly puts a sophisticated stamp on every bar, and the period instruments of the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment do many beautiful things. But the basic tempos are often a notch too slow, then bizarrely slowed further for dramatic emphasis. Sometimes a conductor needs to get out of the way and let Mozart's miraculous score do its work.★★★★☆290min (includes dinner interval) To Aug 21, glyndebourne.comFollow @timesculture to read the latest reviews