Le nozze di Figaro, Glyndebourne Festival

Mariame Clément’s new production of Le nozze di Figaro at Glyndebourne is an elegant, perceptive, and frequently hilarious take on Mozart’s beloved opera. Set firmly in its 18th-century origins but with a contemporary wit and theatricality, this staging walks the delicate line between social farce and poignant reflection on power and desire and does so with remarkable finesse.

Clément resists gimmickry, instead allowing the strength of Da Ponte’s libretto and Mozart’s music to shine. Her light touch draws out both the cruelty and absurdity embedded in the story’s class dynamics, particularly the Count’s predatory behaviour and the servants’ subversive rebellion. Rather than hammering home modern parallels, the production invites us to notice them ourselves, and they resonate all the more for it.

At the centre of it all is Johanna Wallroth’s magnetic Susanna, combining vocal clarity with razor-sharp comic timing. Her transformations from playful to poised, from weary to scheming, anchor the action with emotional intelligence. Opposite her, Michael Nagl’s Figaro offers energy and charisma in abundance. His comic instincts are superb, and his delivery of “Non più andrai” brims with theatrical flair. Louise Alder’s Countess is a study in restrained emotion: her “Dove sono” is heart-wrenching in its quiet despair, matched by the aching dignity she brings throughout.

Huw Montague Rendall’s Count is a swaggering, entitled presence, at once ridiculous and menacing. That tension is one of the production’s strengths: beneath the farce lies real threat, and Clément isn’t afraid to let us feel the unease when the tone shifts. One particular scene of domestic violence is staged with chilling simplicity, made all the more disturbing for its restraint.

Adèle Charvet is a delightful Cherubino, wide-eyed and awkward, while Madeleine Shaw and Alessandro Corbelli’s Marcellina and Bartolo find unexpected tenderness in their reunion. These supporting roles are not treated as throwaway gags but woven thoughtfully into the emotional texture.

Julia Hansen’s set design is a visual treat, pastel hues, Rococo flourishes, and a revolving labyrinth of rooms and corridors cleverly evoke the opera’s tightly wound domestic world. Paule Constable’s lighting casts warmth and shadow in all the right places, while Riccardo Minasi’s conducting brings buoyancy and sparkle to the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment. If balance occasionally wavers, it’s a small price for such vibrant, responsive playing.

There are moments when the staging slips into visual excess, a crowded garden finale, replete with swing and gazebo, that borders on distraction, and ensemble scenes can sometimes lack dynamism. Yet these are minor quibbles in what is otherwise a beautifully judged production.

Photo credit: Richard Hubert Smith, Glyndebourne Productions Ltd.