I went to a performance of this at the Royal Opera House on Thursday evening. I thoroughly enjoyed it, perhaps more than I enjoyed my previous attendance in February, even though objectively the cast was marginally better in February.
On the way there I was a bit stressed out. I had a standing ticket, in the balcony, and I was a bit anxious as to whether I would be able to tolerate standing for the entirety of a fairly lengthy opera. But I got extremely lucky, in that the seat next to my standing place was still empty when the house lights went down, so I snagged it. Ironically, the view from my original standing place was probably less obscured than the seat in which I ended up, especially considering that the man in front of me was of above average height and seemed to have a rather large head.
The worst aspect of the evening was some of my immediate neighbours in the audience, who were clearly tourists, and gave a distinct impression of having not the slightest idea about what they were they were seeing, and, more to the point, a noticeable absence of self-awareness and awareness of how to behave in public. The chortling at every surtitle was mildly irritating; the talking during the quiet bits was boorish and solipsistic.
But the worst aspect was minutes from the end, the surtitle screen displayed, "Countess, forgive me..." and they all rolled around laughing as it was the funniest line ever written. This just proved their collective utter pre-ignorance of the opera (which, in itself, is highly forgivable) but it seems strange to me that anybody could have sat through the previous three hours and find the Count's begging for forgiveness to be funny. I could describe it many ways, but it would never occur to me to laugh. But the thing is, this is one of the most sublime moments in the Western musical canon, achingly beautiful music made more achingly beautiful by the context of everything that has gone before. So there was quite a lot of irate shushing from music lovers. Yahoo Group members can hear the finale here; non-members can apply for membership here (this is a formality; it's just a means to try and avoid spam). This is from the Jacobs' set 
I did not make the mistake of 'studying' the opera beforehand. As it is my favourite opera*, I know it better than just about any other. I have so many different versions on vinyl, cassette, video, CD, and DVD there is no 'definite' version in my head. This means that as long as it is performed competently, it would be difficult not to enjoy it.
I have now seen the production 'live' twice with largely different casts, and have seen the televising about three times, and I have to conclude that it is brilliant; a production that good deserves to stay in the rep until I've got my Bus Pass and be performed nearly every year.
It's invidious to compare one cast with another, but with it being just about five months since I saw the first cast, it's difficult not to make comparisons. But I want to stress that neither cast contained a weak link, and contained no one I wouldn't wish to see again in the roles that they played. As Figaro, Kyle Ketelsen was good but not great. Fine voice good acting, and well deserving of enthusiastic applause. But his performance only served to illustrate just how fine a performance Erwin Schrott had given in February. I'm afraid Kyle was lacking in the areas where Erwin's strengths shone through - beauty of voice, stage presence and sheer sexy charisma. I was chatting with someone in the interval who shared this view and nearly went into palpitations when I mentioned that Erwin will be Don Giovanni next season. Soile Isokoski was outstanding as the Countess, a rich and gorgeous voice. I had enjoyed Dorothea Roschmann in this part in February but had found her voice a bit patchy. I loved Soile's voice and would love to hear her more, but she doesn't appear in London very often.
I thought Sophie Kochs was a bit too feminine for Cherubino, slightly preferring Rinat Shaham's portrayal, but slightly preferring Sophie Kochs' voice. So, a score draw there. I preferred Miah Persson's February Susanna, finding Isabel Bayrakdarian's voice to be uneven and her stage presence less. But I wouldn't hesitate to see her again.
We had a couple of long-term favourites, Robert Lloyd and Diana Montague as Bartolo and Marcellina, and although it was a shame we had lost the splendid Philip Langridge as Don Basilio, John Graham-Hall was good enough in the part. I can't say I was sorry that the Final Act lost the arias for Marcellina and Don Basilio. bloke waving stick was David Syrus. A few people commented that the orchestra lacked 'oomph' and I'm not inclined to argue, but it was far from lacklustre.
The Count was played splendidly by Gerald Finley. Every time I see him I adore him more. I love his voice, which I find to be nearly perfect, full of understated nuanced expressionism and, at times, sheer beauty. But I also think he is a formidable actor, and I think I have said before that his portrayal of the Count is a performance that Timothy West would be proud of. You feel like saying "Have you ever had one of those days?", and as he stalks around getting more frustrated, confused and impotent you wonder why Mozart didn't write a Mad Scene (except that a mad scene would be OTT). Those of you who know the production will know the part in Act II when he flings the axe across the Countess's bedroom. In a spectacular piece of furniture abuse, his axe, flying frighteningly across half the width of the stage hit a dressmaker's dummy sending it crashing to the floor. I did wonder what would happen when Figaro and Antonio attempted to enter through the bedroom door, but, of course, the servants were all eaves-dropping, and had heard it fall, so one had the sense to pick it up before mirth and woe ensued. I asked him afterwards whether that was intended, and he admitted that it wasn't - he was just trying to make the Count seem angry. Gerald, trust me, the count seemed angry.
I love Marriage of Figaro so much. As I'm enjoying one section of music I'm tingling with excitement at the prospect of the next aria, duet or ensemble that's coming. I was thinking of highlighting my favourite moment, but I realised that it would be a list. So, instead I will single out Soile Isokoski's singing of the ineffably beautiful Porgi amor, and the very last minute when the entire cast is singing at the front of the stage, wishing us joy and peace, and the auditorium lamps come alight. I could see the goose-pimples on my arms.
I did have a thing going of reviewing all operas I own in alphabetical order, but it seems to have fallen into abeyance. I really need to revive this. If I do one a week, I ought to get to Figaro in October. Perhaps with the World Cup (almost) over and a downturn in live performances, I might make more of an effort.
* people often ask why a tenor nut has Figaro as her favourite opera, and it is a delightful paradox which I don't wish to over-analyse except that perhaps I am saved from waiting with excited but fraught anticipation for the show-stopping tenor showpiece arias...
