The Marriage of Figaro from Glyndebourne @ the BBC Proms

Mozart
The Marriage of Figaro

Figaro – Tommaso Barea
Susanna – Johanna Wallroth
Count – Huw Montague-Rendall
Countess – Louise Alder
Bartolo – Alessandro Corbelli
Marcellina – Madeleine Shaw
Cherubino – Adèle Charvet
Don Basilio – Robert Forrest
Barbarina – Elisabeth Boudreault
Antonio – Alexander Vassiliev
Don Curzio – Vincent Ordonneau
First Bridesmaid – Sophie Sparrow *
Second Bridesmaid – Biqing Zhang *
Child – Pippa Barton

Glyndebourne Festival
Glyndebourne Chorus (director Aidan Oliver) *

Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment
Riccardo Minasi

Talia Stern – director
after Mariame Clément’s fully staged production at Glyndebourne

Glyndebourne, already in its tenth decade, has been visiting the Proms since 1961, when Don Giovanni received its Proms première. The following year it was Così fan tutte and, in the first of two Proms (the other being Monteverdi’s L’ incoronazione di Poppea), in 1963 it was Figaro. That was the last year when the company was accompanied by the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. In 1964 the London Philharmonic Orchestra took up the reins and has been house orchestra for over 60 years. In 1989 for the fifth Proms performance marked the first Glyndebourne appearance at the Proms of the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment (under Rattle), and it was with their period instrument present-day colleagues that came to the Royal Albert Hall for the eighth complete concert performance this year, under the dynamo that is Riccardo Minasi.

Hot on the tail of 20 performances at Glyndebourne, with only our Figaro something of a newcomer to the cast, having joined the Sussex staged production for the penultimate two performances, this was always going to be a well-oiled production. Skilfully transported to Kensington with the minimum of set (two doors, a couple of chairs and tables, a bath, and two cut out bushes) but fully costumed, director Talia Stern (assistant on the fully staged production) fashioned a wholly satisfying performance from Mariame Clément’s Glyndebourne staging which positively fizzed and popped its enchanting way on the forestage in front of the OAE. The wind, horns, trumpets and timpani (who also ‘played’ the bushes when Cherubino jumps out of the Countess’s boudoir window) were above the strings on the risers.

Minasi made a difference from the start, with the quietest opening of the overture, then a sudden timpani outburst adding to the tangible period timbres, the soft burbling bassoon and gruff-when-needed horns. Wittily directed (at the beginning of the third act, just after the interval, Huw Montague Rendall’s Count appeared out of the bathtub that had appeared on stage), with every da Ponte twist and turn of the narrative clearly delineated as Tommaso Barea’s Figaro and Johanna Wallroth’s Susanna try to ensure they can marry without the Count re-establishing the droit de seigneur principle and having his way with Susanna. Particularly touching were Madeleine Shaw’s Marcellina and veteran Glyndebourne baritone Alessandro Corbelli as Bartolo, who turn out to be Figaro’s parents in one of the deliciously crazy twists of Beaumarchais’ original comedy.

Mezzo Adèle Charvet was one of the most convincing Cherubinos I’ve seen, both in looks and action. Surely s/he should have been happy with his ‘arranged’ bride, the vivacious Elisabeth Boudreault as Barbarina at the end. Both tall and slender, Rendall’s Count and Barea’s Figaro were convincing sparring partners, though – of course – it is their actual partners that stole the show. Louise Alder’s heartfelt Countess and Wallroth as Susanna both suffered at the pre ‘Me Too’ male arrogance and violence (the production was quite explicit at the Count’s aggro at times) but then had the most sublime melodies. Alder’s Porgi amor and Sove dono rightly drew acclamation but, for me, it was Susanna’s final aria, Deh vieni non tardar, oh gioia bella, liltingly accompanied by solo flute, oboe and bassoon with their rising and falling semiquaver phrases, which hit the emotional high spot. And I loved the final touch – the Count having been exposed and having to plead for the Countess’s forgiveness, everyone else rushes off to celebrate and he is left alone on stage.

There was one unexplained and intriguing insight: a child (Pippa Barton), who appeared in various scenes, mostly with the Countess. Surely not her daughter, but then – why not? It would make the Count’s philandering perhaps even worse. But it was simply presented to us and not explained further.

With Glyndebourne seating only 1,200, tonight’s Prom reached in the hall five times as many, let alone those listening on the radio. 

One final shout out to the designer Juli Hansen; the period costumes were beautiful.