Figaro's back

February 20, 2012

Le nozze di Figaro - Royal Opera House, 14 February 2012

Oops. David McVicar's finest production isn't as bulletproof as it once seemed. This time round, coarse revival direction and subpar casting have diminished its subtlety and psychological insight.

It was never a conceptually radical vision, but earlier stagings did at least trace the shifting balance of household power with unusual delicacy. Deprived of that sort of character development - which demands skilled acting and detailed direction - the plot's deception and blackmail lack moral purpose, exposing the entire cast as an unappealing bunch of bullies and liars. That's - arguably - Beaumarchais, but it's not Mozart. Add slapstick acting and a lack of chemistry between the principals and what's left leaves a sour taste.

Things may have been different if the originally-scheduled Count and Countess, Simon Keenlyside and Kate Royal, had turned up. But they were replaced by youngish Americans Lucas Meachem and Rachel Willis-Sørensen. Both are clearly well-schooled and sing loudly and accurately enough. Neither was disastrous. But Meacham's oafish, defensive persona was more servile than aristocratic, and I doubt if there was a damp eye in the house when Willis-Sørensen delivered her uninvolving Dove Sono. At the risk of sounding like Britain's grumpiest opera critic - were there really no British singers they could have called on instead?

At least Ildebrando D'Arcangelo made a decent Figaro. In place of the menacing physicality and exquisite comic timing of his predecessor in the role, Erwin Schrott, he brought elegant singing and suave, understated assurance. Aleksandra Kurzak's Susanna was appealing too, her sweet tone and liquid phrasing more than compensating for her slightly irritating textbook pertness. Anna Bonitatibus wasn't on her best vocal form as Cherubino, but the rest of the cast were unusually strong, with old hands like Bonaventura Bottone, Ann Murray and Jeremy White joined by the promising Susana Gaspar as Barbarina.

Sir Tony played harpsichord continuo as well as conducting and kept things lively in the pit, though I hope the seagull squall of the natural horns is an experiment he won't bother repeating.