Le Nozze di Figaro, Glyndebourne, June 2012

If you demand this opera in eighteenth century costume — and I overheard some in the audience who did — then forget it. But if you are happy to see a more up to date interpretation, then this is a winner.

All images Glyndebourne Opera/ Alastair Muir

It’s the 1960s and Almaviva is one of the nouveau riche, possibly a pop star, who occupies a magnificent house with servants. He arrives home with his wife in a two-tone sports car, dressed in a loud jacket of Carnaby Street style, while Basilio wears check trousers and jacket. He lights a fag from a silver case, and offers one to Almaviva, who later in the opera smokes a joint and shares it with Susanna.

Susanna and Almaviva

Don’t be put off — Almaviva’s a prat, we all know that — and he gets his come-uppance. It all works perfectly. Sally Matthews as the countess in long flowing dresses was elegance itself, and her soliloquy Dove sono i bei momenti in Act III was a lovely moment that captured the heart of the audience.

The countess

This Michael Grandage production gave us a wonderful stage play, complete with music and singing, capturing the natural interactions between its characters during this ‘crazy day’, taken from Beaumarchais by Mozart and Da Ponte. Vito Priante as Figaro showed quick-witted intelligence as well as becoming admirably disconcerted, and Lydia Teuscher as Susanna switched effortlessly from melodious phrases to annoyance and determination. Her interplay in Act I with Ann Murray’s well-nuanced portrayal of Marcellina was great fun. Andrew Shore as Bartolo delivered a superb La vendetta in Act I, and when he and Marcellina finally realise that Figaro is their son, he showed palpable astonishment and delight as he calls out Rafaelo! … gently pummelling his long lost boy. This is acting of very high quality, preceded of course by Almaviva’s short-lived delight at hearing Don Curzio’s legal opinion of Figaro’s contract with Marcellina, robustly delivered by Colin Judson.

Susanna, Figaro, Marcellina, Bartolo

Isabel Leonard as Cherubino showed characterisations ranging from an attractively sympathetic young man in Act I to infuriatingly testosterone-fuelled impertinence in Act IV, and her Voi che sapete in Act II was a knockout. Sarah Shafer as Barbarina was delightful in her mini skirt, and the dancing at the end of Act III amplified the location of this production to the 1960s when ballroom was strictly passé. Alan Oke’s Don Basilio fitted perfectly with this new hedonism, as did Audun Iversen’s Almaviva as a youngish success story in the world of fashion or entertainment with an elegant wife who no longer fuels his fancy.

Almaviva, with his wife in disguise

Sets by Christopher Oram filled the Glyndebourne stage with the feel of a vintage country house, a rotation converting Act I to II, and a second rotation after the interval converting Act III to IV. Stage positioning and movement of the performers was beautifully judged, and lighting by Paule Constable was superb. From the orchestra pit, Robin Ticciati commanded the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment with fine forward drive and sensitivity to the singers. A hugely entertaining co-production with Houston Grand Opera and the Metropolitan Opera, but see it at Glyndebourne first! Performances continue until August 22 — for details click here.

Tamerlano, Royal Opera, February 2010

The elephant with Renata Pokupic as Irene: Royal Opera photo by Catherine Ashmore

The title character in this Handel opera is the great conqueror Timur from Central Asia, who has captured the Ottoman Sultan Bajazet and his daughter Asteria. The opera was first produced in London in 1724, the same year Handel wrote Giulio Cesare, about another great conqueror, and both works involve court intrigues. In this one, Tamerlano is betrothed to Irene, Princess of Trebizond, but becomes obsessed by his captive, Asteria, and wants to marry her. She in turn is in love with the Greek prince Andronico, who serves Tamerlano, and though Bajazet thinks his daughter is happy to marry Tamerlano, she really intends to kill him. By the time Tamerlano gets over his obsession and takes pleasure in his betrothed Irene, after three long Acts, Bajazet has committed suicide and Asteria has gone off-stage to do likewise.

The music, though lovely, is very static, but Graham Vick’s production deals with this using slow stylized movements of the courtiers, and very clear designs by Richard Hudson. These are mainly black and white, except for a gloriously colourful elephant bearing Irene to the court, and attractively coloured costumes for Tamerlano.

Stotijn as Tamerlano and Mingardo as Andronico: Royal Opera photo by C Ashmore

The singing is the main thing and this was a treat. In the cinema screening of this same production from Madrid in October 2008, Domingo was Bajazet, and he was scheduled to perform the same role here. Unfortunately he was unavailable, but his replacement, Kurt Streit sang it superbly — one could not have asked for better. Tamerlano was portrayed by Christianne Stotijn who sang with spirit, but little emotive power, and the princesses Asteria and Irene were wonderfully sung by Christine Schäfer and Renata Pokupic. As Andronico we had Sara Mingardo, who sang the same role in Madrid, but here her voice in the dress rehearsal lacked colour — perhaps she was not singing out and it will be better in the regular performances. Finally, Vito Priante in the bass role of the male courtier Leone was extremely good. The singers and orchestra came together well under the baton of Ivor Bolton, in what I suppose is a largely uncut score. Personally I would have been happy with a few cuts, and though I can imagine Handel loyalists being horrified by my philistinism I find the music to this opera rather dolorous and repetitive, and the whole performance, with intervals, lasts four and a half hours.