Welcome to Mozart´s Big Brother House „Le Nozze di Figaro“ at Salzburg Festival

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Photos Walz

Oxana Arkaeva

August 8th, 2016. Completing his two years as Festivals Interim Intendant, stage director Sven-Erich Bechtolf brought out a package of the three most famous operas by Mozart: “Don Giovanni”, “Cosi fan’ tutte” and “Le Nozze di Figaro”. Attended performance on August 16th presented the first of the six shows of last year´s production´s revival.

Moved from Sevilla to England and set in Downton Abbey Sitcom stage design (Alex Eales), this “Figaro” is more of traditional than of innovative style. Presented with a longitudinal section of the house, the audience finds itself looking inside of the Mozart´s Big Brother House. As if peeping through keyholes, we involuntary became Voyeurs of door – to – door, fast – paced, full of confusion and easy – wit stage happenings.

Musically the evening was framed by the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra under the button of

Dan Ettinger. At the beginning acting more in the background and playing with soft sound, the orchestra musically took the lead only at the final scene of the second act. Ettinger’s uneven conducting created coordination difficulties between stage and orchestra and dynamically remained more indifferent than engaging.

The singer's ensemble, dressed in lovely costumes of post – Edwardian style (Mark Bouman) were more of a type cast, acted well and seemed to enjoy the show. The singing, however, was kept on rather a small voice level, thus not allowing a big dynamic range and missing the sensuality of Mozart’s music.

Luca Pisaroni as Count Almaviva was the acting star of the evening. He is convincing as permanently stumbling from one painful situation into the other, spoiled English Dundee, for whom to betray his wife and then ask for forgiveness is business as usual. His agreeable bass – baritone is equally present throughout the performance and in his famous aria in the third act, he achieved his personal musical highlight.

His stage wife, an unfortunate Countess Almaviva has her first mute stage appearance as still young, beautiful woman who, nevertheless, already needs reading glasses. Soprano Anett Fritsch sings with warm, light sound, with a tremolo and sometimes uneasy high notes. Her acting is soft and gracious, symbolizing the forgiving, loving, ideal type of faithful spouse.

Adam Plachetka’s imposing appearance, unfortunately, didn’t match his singing volumes. He seemed to pull back his voice, making it sound smaller, opening up only in his fourth act aria. His acting nevertheless was charming and especially in the finale, he gave a lovely and teddybear-like, admirable Figaro.

Anna Prohaska´s Susanna remained bleak scenically and vocally throughout the evening. She seemed to be overloaded by the whole action, and her small voice often had difficulties getting over the orchestra. Fortunately, in the famous “Rose” aria in the fourth act she, finally, got a chance to calm down, giving us a treat of the lovely timbre and delicate singing.

Margarita Griskova as Cherubino sings with warm mezzo-soprano and is absolutely lovable in his continuous seducing attempts. Her acting is often too feminine thus, maybe, explaining, why amorous Basilio so persistently pursues Cherubino. It is remarkable how Paul Schweinester manages to combine never-ceasing action with admirable singing. His Basilio as an omniscient, everywhere present chief spy, is the most well-shaped character in this production.

The Buffo couple of Marcellina and Dr. Bartolo were sung by Ann Murray and Carlos Chausson. Both singing and acting noteworthy, Ann Murray stole the show by giving in the fourth act an absolutely hilarious and incredibly funny performance of a drunk, hiccupping old Lady.

Franz Super as Don Curzio and Erik Anstine as Gardener Antonio both displayed good voices: Super giving a refreshing, not stuttering lawyer and Astine of a comical, steadily drunk man. Christina Gansch in the tiny role of Barbarina managed to make an impression both with her lovely soprano and boyish like, admirable play.

Greatly appreciated by the audience this production builds up, together with the two mentioned above, the Festivals´ Da Ponte Trilogy. Recently released on DVD and Blue-Ray under Unitel Classics it features up to 4K Ultra HD definition picture quality, additional backstage footage, a digital opera guide and gives a welcome opportunity to experience up-close and to enjoy the spirit and the high quality of this great venue.

Le Nozze di Figaro at the Salzburg Festival 2015

© Salzburger Festspiele / Ruth Walz

Suzanne Daumann

One has to admire Sven-Eric Bechtolf for his courage to stage an opera nowadays without unnecessary violence, nudity, strip-tease, sexually explicit scenes, and weird costumes. He interprets Le Nozze di Figaro in this new production for the Salzburg Festival as a comédie de salon : doors opening, banging and closing ; people hiding, listening at doors, confusing each other and themselves… This is light and entertaining, without being superficial and the characters have mozartian depth. One doesn’t quite understand why the piece has been situated in the 1930s however. Nothing in the staging alludes to the political climate of the time, and it would have worked as well in an 18^th century set. Alex Eales’ lovely sets are full of adorable details that make the place seem alive and lived-in. Beautiful as well the lighting by Friedrich Rom and Mark Bouman’s elegant and varied costumes. The Almaviva castle looks like a dollhouse: in Act I, we see a cut through the house, with Susanna and Figaro’s bridal chamber in the centre, at its left the Count’s dressing-room, the Countesses bath-room to the right, above them there is a corridor and a bed-room, with the staircase in the background. All through this first Act, people are moving around everywhere, if they’re supposed to be onstage or not. This is probably supposed to show how the plot is set in motion: Basilio spies, Figaro writes a letter, the Countess is languishing… It is certainly amusing to see the Count change his suit three times in a row, to see him put the leash on his dog and take him out for a walk, and it’s even more amusing if one knows that this is Luca Pisaroni’s own dog. Yet, all those shenanigans distract the spectator’s attention from the real action, and one has to wonder if the conductor’s attention isn’t a bit distracted, too. Musically, this first Act advances by jolts and bumps, without real unity between singers and orchestra, and uncertain tempi to boot. Fortunately, from Act II the many ensemble scenes replace the background action, and the conducting sounds a bit tighter. Dan Ettinger does not really do justice to this wonderful orchestra, the Wiener Symphoniker, his conducting is rather trite, without new ideas or energy. Only sometimes, at the final of Act II for instance, with a fine dramatic accelerando, and in the accompaniment of some arias, can we hear the orchestra as it is supposed to sound. The conductor accompanies the recitatives on the piano-forte, but that doesn’t keep them from sounding rushed sometimes. 

The cast is excellent throughout: Luca Pisaroni is Almaviva. With his enormous stage presence and formidable energy, with a voice that, for having lost some of its juvenile velvet has won more power and fire, he plays a profoundly human Almaviva. He is a character of changing emotions, between more or less restrained fury, amorous élans towards Susanna, efforts to find the affection of his wife again, a bit vain, a bit ridiculous, but from the beginning of Act III, he imposes his authority. Luca Pisaroni catches and expresses all of those facettes. He sings the Act III aria, Vedrò mentr’io sospiro, with rare and raw energy, his Contessa, perdono is heart-wrenching in its simplicity. Annett Fritsch sings the Countess Almaviva. Agile and ample soprano voice, she is very moving in her aria Dove sono. She is convincing in her role as well, and one would wish for the couple to overcome their crisis. Alas, there is no happy end for them. Another pleasing detail of this staging : the ensemble don’t address the public with the final chorus Questo giorno di tormento, the party is taking place among the Almaviva household and the Countess refuses the glass the Count offers her. In the duet with Susanna, both are wonderful, ironically tender. Martina Janková, soprano sweet and rounded is an ideal Susanna: playful, intelligent and lively. She sings her aria Deh vieni, non tardar, with uncommon abandon and sweetness. Her Figaro is Adam Plachetka. With his strong and versatile baritone and his stage presence, he is a worthy adversary of Luca Pisaroni’s Count. Ann Murray is an infallible Marcellina – her adorable tipsiness at the beginning of Act IV doesn’t really replace her aria Il Capro e la Capretta, that was cut once again, alas. Just as experienced and impeccable, Carlos Chausson as Bartolo. Remarkable among the second roles are Christina Gansch as Barbarina and Ernest Anstine’s Antonio. An enjoyable Mozart moment finally, that will not leave a lasting impression.

Le Nozze di Figaro au Festival de Salzbourg

© Salzburger Festspiele / Ruth Walz

Suzanne Daumann

Il faut saluer le courage de Sven-Eric Bechtolf de mettre en scène de nos jours un opéra sans violence gratuite, sans nudité, strip-tease, et scènes explicites, costumes grotesques et tutti quanti. Sa vision des Nozze di Figaro pour la nouvelle production du Festival de Salzbourg est celle d’une comédie de salon selon les règles de l’art : des portes qui s’ouvrent, qui claquent, se ferment ; des personnages qui s’espionnent, se méprennent, se confondent… C’est léger et amusant, sans être superficiel, avec des personnages  dessinés en profondeur. Le choix de situer la pièce dans les années 30 reste pourtant  incompréhensible, car rien dans la mise en scène ne parle des événements politiques de l’époque et elle aurait fonctionné aussi bien au 18^ème siècle. Les décors somptueux d’Alex Eales sont pleins de détails adorables qui donnent l’impression d’une vraie maison habité par de vrais gens. Il faut aussi citer les magnifiques lumières de Friedrich Rom, et les costumes élégants et variés de Mark Bouman. La scénographie fait penser à une maison de poupée : à l’Acte I, l’on voit une coupe à travers la maison, avec au centre la chambre nuptiale de Susanna et de Figaro, à sa gauche le dressing du Comte, à leur droite, la salle de bains de la Comtesse, au-dessus, le couloir et une chambre, et puis l’escalier en arrière-plan. Tout au long de cet Acte I, des personnages font toute sorte de choses un peu partout, alors qu’elles ne sont pas en scène normalement. L’idée en est, sans doute, de montrer les actions secrètes qui initient l’intrigue : Basilio espionne, Figaro écrit une lettre, la Comtesse se languit… Il est certes amusant de voir le Comte changer de costume trois fois de suite, de le voir mettre la laisse à son chien pour une promenade, et c’est encore plus amusant quand on sait que ce chien est en réalité le propre chien de Luca Pisaroni, qui interprète le comte Almaviva. Cependant, l’attention du spectateur est détournée de l’action centrale et l’on peut se demander si ce n’est pas aussi l’attention du chef d’orchestre qui est un peu détournée, car musicalement, cet Acte I avance un peu cahin-caha, sans trouver une vraie unité entre chant et orchestre, avec des tempi parfois un tantinet incertains. Heureusement, à partir de l’Acte II, les multiples scènes d’ensemble remplacent les actions d’arrière-plan et la direction d’orchestre s’en retrouve resserrée. Dan Ettinger ne rend pas vraiment justice à cet orchestre merveilleux que sont les Wiener Symphoniker, une direction souvent banale, sans apport énergétique. Seulement parfois, lors du finale de l’Acte II par exemple, avec un accelerando des plus finement dramatiques, et lors de l’accompagnement de certains airs, l’on peut prendre toute la mesure de ces musiciens. Bien que le chef accompagne au forte-piano les récitatifs secs, ceux-ci semblent parfois bâclés. La distribution est excellente jusqu’au bout : Luca Pisaroni est donc Almaviva. Doué d’une présence scénique et d’une énergie formidable, et d’une voix qui, pour avoir perdu un peu de son velours juvénile a gagné en puissance et en feu, il campe un Almaviva profondément humain. C’est un personnage aux émotions changeantes, entre fureur plus ou moins retenue, élans amoureux vers Susanna, efforts de retrouver l’affection de sa femme, un peu vaniteux, un peu ridicule. Pisaroni sait exprimer toutes ces facettes. Il chante l’air de l’Acte III, Vedrò mentr’io sospiro, avec une rare intensité, son Contessa, perdono est déchirant de simplicité et dans ces moments, son personnage n’a plus rien de ridicule. Annett Fritsch lui donne la réplique dans le rôle de la Comtesse Almaviva. Voix de soprano agile et ample, très émouvante dans son air Dove sono, elle aussi est convaincante, et l’on souhaiterait à ce couple de surmonter sa crise. La fin, hélas, ne présage rien de tel. Détail plaisant de cette mise en scène, le chœur final Questo giorno di tormento, ne s’adresse pas au public : les protagonistes font la fête entre eux, et la Comtesse refuse le verre de réconciliation que le Comte lui propose. Dans son duo avec Susanna, toutes les deux sont merveilleuses de tendresse ironique. Martina Janková, soprano flûté et doux, est une Susanna comme il faut : espiègle, intelligente et vivace. Son Figaro est Adam Plachetka. Avec son baryton puissant et versatile, et sa présence scénique, il est un digne adversaire du Comte de Luca Pisaroni. Ann Murray est une Marcellina à toute épreuve - son adorable début d’ébriété au début de l’Acte IV n’est qu’un remplacement insuffisant de son air Il Capro e la Capretta, coupé une fois de plus, hélas. Tout aussi expérimenté et impeccable, Carlos Chausson dans le rôle de Bartolo. Parmi les rôles secondaires il faut citer particulièrement Christina Gansch dans la partie de Barbarina, et l’Antonio d’Ernest Anstine. Une soirée mozartienne agréable somme toute – applaudissements amplement mérités.