The Garden Path
Mozart, Le Nozze di Figaro, Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, 2 February 2006.
What is it, apart from the glorious music, that separates Mozart's Le Nozze di Figaro from the rest of the operatic repertoire? It is the plot. Outside Wagner's Ring cycle, the story of most operas is straightforwardly (if not always plausibly) concerned with the vicissitudes and adventures of one or two characters, whose emotions and motivations are explored in depth. The rest of the cast, however much their characters are developed, are there in support of the principals and the main story line. The reader will find it surprisingly difficult to think of counter-examples to this generalisation. There are exceptions and it is noteworthy that these are among the greatest operatic scores, with a richness of independent sub-plot, which point to aspects of the main drama; one thinks of Papageno and Papagena or of Nannetta and Fenton in Falstaff, for example. Two outstanding examples from earlier centuries are the tragi-comedies of Monteverdi's L'Incoronazione di Poppea, with the stories of Octavia and Seneca, and Handel's Giulio Cesare in Egitto, with Cornelia and Sesto. From the twentieth century we have Der Rosenkavalier, where most of the third act is devoted to the comeuppance of Baron Ochs (a much maligned character who deserves credit for inspiring one of the most hilarious scenes in all opera).
Figaro is different (as are to a lesser extent the other 'da Ponte' operas). There are no less than five equally important characters and there are two closely intertwined stories. One is the attempt to shame the philandering Count Almaviva by arranging a garden assignation with Susanna, replaced by the disguised Countess; the other concerns attempts to thwart the marriage of Figaro and Susanna through a promissory note held by Marcellina (resolved when she is revealed as his mother). Ubiquitous is the amorous page Cherubino, who causes mayhem whenever he appears. Underlying the comedy runs a darker stream of suspicion and jealousy. (At her inaugural lecture as Hambro Professor of Opera, some years ago, Judith Weir was asked why the plots of her operas were so complicated. 'Have you ever tried to explain to anyone the final garden scene of Figaro?' she replied. I am not going to attempt to.)
First experienced in concert performance by Colin Davis' Chelsea Opera Group, Figaro has been seen many times, memorably with Geraint Evans as Figaro and Schwarzkopf as Susanna in 1950. (In the light of her later persona, one forgets this was one of Schwarzkopf's best roles.) The most remarkable performance had a dream cast of Krause, della Casa, Freni, Siepi, Stratas, Nancy Williams and Coreno. This was shortly after the opening of the New Met in 1967; the sets, designed by Oliver Messel, oddly had the first scene in a kitchen rather than an antechamber. Much more recently, the opera was seen in the restored 'Estates Theatre' in Prague, a performance indifferent in itself, but such was the ambience and the atmosphere of the theatre where the composer himself conducted the opera in 1787 that the occasion left a lasting impression. One could not help but muse on differences in sound and spectacle between then and now! In 2000 the opera was seen at Glyndebourne. This was part of Graham Vick's aberrant legacy of the three da Ponte operas and was the production recently revived 'On Tour' to Oxford (OM No.246). In this production the simple black and white costumes and décor were initially intriguing but ultimately dead boring in spite of some good singing with Peter Mattei in the title role. (At least it was not as bad as the unspeakable staging of Don Giovanni where even closing one's eyes did not help much.)
On this occasion, the offer of good amphitheatre seats tempted us to take the path to Covent Garden by means of the X90 bus, to see the Royal Opera's new, anniversary-marking production of Figaro directed by David McVicar and conducted by Antonio Pappano. The cast, widely cosmopolitan, was largely unknown to us but contained the familiar Gerald Finley as the Count and Philip Langridge as Basilio. The Swedish Miah Persson, who sang Susanna, was previously encountered in 2003 at the Theâtre des Champs-Élysées in Paris playing one of three aspiring sopranos, complete with pushy mum, in L'Opera Seria, a wonderful contemporary send-up of the genre, by Florian Leopold Gassmann (1729-1774).
This production is an unqualified success, visually, vocally and dramatically, thoroughly worthy of the occasion. It is worthy of being judged against the highest standards, which is what I attempt to do. Transferred to a French château in 1830, the handsome sets and accurate period costumes designed by Tanya McCallin provided a near-perfect backdrop to the action (notwithstanding the references to Seville). My only reservation was that the opening scene, 'a partly furnished room, with an easy chair in the centre' was more of a cluttered linen closet, to which this Susanna would have a much stronger objection than to the proximity of the Count's bedroom. The scene change to the Countess' bedroom at the end of the first Act (the performance had only one interval) began before the end of the final stanza of non più andrai, which I found distracting (but this is a personal phobia of moving scenery while the music plays).
This production emphasised the suspicion and jealousy of the plot so that it was not until Act III that these elements really came into balance with the comedy; the previous Acts powerfully represented the strength of the emotions. Act IV was the usual confusion, but did contain Marcellina's often-cut aria, beautifully and dramatically sung by the Chilean, Graciela Araya.
It is hard to fault the vocal performance of any of the singers. Erwin Schott showed himself to have the makings of a great Figaro - if he is not already there. He gave a sensitive interpretation mixing the emotions of self-confidence (se vuol ballare) through self-doubt and suspicion of Susanna to uproarious delight at the discovery of his parents. Persson's Susanna shows great promise and she has a wonderful voice but her characterisation still lacks some of the liveliness and flirtatiousness shown by her predecessors. She did not make the most of her scene with Marcellina in Act I, which I have seen much more amusingly depicted. Likewise, the Cherubino of Rinat Shaham did not quite catch the confused intensity of the amorous teen-ager. (These two singers will perform Fiordiligi and Dorabella at Glyndebourne.)
Gerald Finley, in an unusually strong portrayal of the Count as a potential wife-beater, and Dorothea Röschmann as his potential victim both gave stupendous vocal and dramatic performances: she in conveying both the dignity and the misery of her condition; he, in trying to hide his infidelity and his bullying nature from the other characters and from the hoards of eavesdropping servants with whom the château was staffed. This was another unusual well thought out feature of the production, the drama being played out against the background of the everyday running of a country household.
The full Covent Garden Orchestra under Pappano gave a firm, if unobtrusive, backing to the business on stage.
This is an exceptional production of Figaro, a triumph for the Royal Opera House. It gives a modern psychological interpretation of Beaumarchais' characters without betraying the stylistic and musical origins of the opera. Do all you can to get tickets! There are eight more performances this month and it returns for eight performances in June and July (with a different cast). There is even the possibility of getting seats for £10, either on student standby or on Mondays, through their Travelex scheme. I urge you to take the Garden Path to the Royal Opera House. You can be home and in bed by 1a.m!
Our next visit there will be on 27 February to see a revival of the 2002 award-winning production of Wozzeck.which has four performances in March. I look forward to comparing this to Jurowski's shattering interpretation of the score for WNO, which is still fresh in the memory (OM No.238). Watch this space!
3 February 2006
Mozart, Le Nozze di Figaro, Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, 2 February 2006.
What is it, apart from the glorious music, that separates Mozart's Le Nozze di Figaro from the rest of the operatic repertoire? It is the plot. Outside Wagner's Ring cycle, the story of most operas is straightforwardly (if not always plausibly) concerned with the vicissitudes and adventures of one or two characters, whose emotions and motivations are explored in depth. The rest of the cast, however much their characters are developed, are there in support of the principals and the main story line. The reader will find it surprisingly difficult to think of counter-examples to this generalisation. There are exceptions and it is noteworthy that these are among the greatest operatic scores, with a richness of independent sub-plot, which point to aspects of the main drama; one thinks of Papageno and Papagena or of Nannetta and Fenton in Falstaff, for example. Two outstanding examples from earlier centuries are the tragi-comedies of Monteverdi's L'Incoronazione di Poppea, with the stories of Octavia and Seneca, and Handel's Giulio Cesare in Egitto, with Cornelia and Sesto. From the twentieth century we have Der Rosenkavalier, where most of the third act is devoted to the comeuppance of Baron Ochs (a much maligned character who deserves credit for inspiring one of the most hilarious scenes in all opera).
Figaro is different (as are to a lesser extent the other 'da Ponte' operas). There are no less than five equally important characters and there are two closely intertwined stories. One is the attempt to shame the philandering Count Almaviva by arranging a garden assignation with Susanna, replaced by the disguised Countess; the other concerns attempts to thwart the marriage of Figaro and Susanna through a promissory note held by Marcellina (resolved when she is revealed as his mother). Ubiquitous is the amorous page Cherubino, who causes mayhem whenever he appears. Underlying the comedy runs a darker stream of suspicion and jealousy. (At her inaugural lecture as Hambro Professor of Opera, some years ago, Judith Weir was asked why the plots of her operas were so complicated. 'Have you ever tried to explain to anyone the final garden scene of Figaro?' she replied. I am not going to attempt to.)
First experienced in concert performance by Colin Davis' Chelsea Opera Group, Figaro has been seen many times, memorably with Geraint Evans as Figaro and Schwarzkopf as Susanna in 1950. (In the light of her later persona, one forgets this was one of Schwarzkopf's best roles.) The most remarkable performance had a dream cast of Krause, della Casa, Freni, Siepi, Stratas, Nancy Williams and Coreno. This was shortly after the opening of the New Met in 1967; the sets, designed by Oliver Messel, oddly had the first scene in a kitchen rather than an antechamber. Much more recently, the opera was seen in the restored 'Estates Theatre' in Prague, a performance indifferent in itself, but such was the ambience and the atmosphere of the theatre where the composer himself conducted the opera in 1787 that the occasion left a lasting impression. One could not help but muse on differences in sound and spectacle between then and now! In 2000 the opera was seen at Glyndebourne. This was part of Graham Vick's aberrant legacy of the three da Ponte operas and was the production recently revived 'On Tour' to Oxford (OM No.246). In this production the simple black and white costumes and décor were initially intriguing but ultimately dead boring in spite of some good singing with Peter Mattei in the title role. (At least it was not as bad as the unspeakable staging of Don Giovanni where even closing one's eyes did not help much.)
On this occasion, the offer of good amphitheatre seats tempted us to take the path to Covent Garden by means of the X90 bus, to see the Royal Opera's new, anniversary-marking production of Figaro directed by David McVicar and conducted by Antonio Pappano. The cast, widely cosmopolitan, was largely unknown to us but contained the familiar Gerald Finley as the Count and Philip Langridge as Basilio. The Swedish Miah Persson, who sang Susanna, was previously encountered in 2003 at the Theâtre des Champs-Élysées in Paris playing one of three aspiring sopranos, complete with pushy mum, in L'Opera Seria, a wonderful contemporary send-up of the genre, by Florian Leopold Gassmann (1729-1774).
This production is an unqualified success, visually, vocally and dramatically, thoroughly worthy of the occasion. It is worthy of being judged against the highest standards, which is what I attempt to do. Transferred to a French château in 1830, the handsome sets and accurate period costumes designed by Tanya McCallin provided a near-perfect backdrop to the action (notwithstanding the references to Seville). My only reservation was that the opening scene, 'a partly furnished room, with an easy chair in the centre' was more of a cluttered linen closet, to which this Susanna would have a much stronger objection than to the proximity of the Count's bedroom. The scene change to the Countess' bedroom at the end of the first Act (the performance had only one interval) began before the end of the final stanza of non più andrai, which I found distracting (but this is a personal phobia of moving scenery while the music plays).
This production emphasised the suspicion and jealousy of the plot so that it was not until Act III that these elements really came into balance with the comedy; the previous Acts powerfully represented the strength of the emotions. Act IV was the usual confusion, but did contain Marcellina's often-cut aria, beautifully and dramatically sung by the Chilean, Graciela Araya.
It is hard to fault the vocal performance of any of the singers. Erwin Schott showed himself to have the makings of a great Figaro - if he is not already there. He gave a sensitive interpretation mixing the emotions of self-confidence (se vuol ballare) through self-doubt and suspicion of Susanna to uproarious delight at the discovery of his parents. Persson's Susanna shows great promise and she has a wonderful voice but her characterisation still lacks some of the liveliness and flirtatiousness shown by her predecessors. She did not make the most of her scene with Marcellina in Act I, which I have seen much more amusingly depicted. Likewise, the Cherubino of Rinat Shaham did not quite catch the confused intensity of the amorous teen-ager. (These two singers will perform Fiordiligi and Dorabella at Glyndebourne.)
Gerald Finley, in an unusually strong portrayal of the Count as a potential wife-beater, and Dorothea Röschmann as his potential victim both gave stupendous vocal and dramatic performances: she in conveying both the dignity and the misery of her condition; he, in trying to hide his infidelity and his bullying nature from the other characters and from the hoards of eavesdropping servants with whom the château was staffed. This was another unusual well thought out feature of the production, the drama being played out against the background of the everyday running of a country household.
The full Covent Garden Orchestra under Pappano gave a firm, if unobtrusive, backing to the business on stage.
This is an exceptional production of Figaro, a triumph for the Royal Opera House. It gives a modern psychological interpretation of Beaumarchais' characters without betraying the stylistic and musical origins of the opera. Do all you can to get tickets! There are eight more performances this month and it returns for eight performances in June and July (with a different cast). There is even the possibility of getting seats for £10, either on student standby or on Mondays, through their Travelex scheme. I urge you to take the Garden Path to the Royal Opera House. You can be home and in bed by 1a.m!
Our next visit there will be on 27 February to see a revival of the 2002 award-winning production of Wozzeck.which has four performances in March. I look forward to comparing this to Jurowski's shattering interpretation of the score for WNO, which is still fresh in the memory (OM No.238). Watch this space!
3 February 2006