Don’t miss this marriage made in heaven

3 months ago 20

By Peter McCallum

August 1, 2025 — 6.53pm

The Marriage of Figaro
Opera Australia
Sydney Opera House, July 31
Reviewed by PETER McCALLUM
★★★★★

Driven by a minute focus on the follies of human motivation that unsettle the rigid force fields of class, gender and power, David McVicar’s 2015 production of Mozart’s The Marriage of Figaro has become a jewel in Opera Australia’s repertoire.

It is helped in no small way by Jenny Tiramani’s design, which incrementally places each act in a closet, a bedroom, a grand hall and the great outdoors, and clothes the characters in the warm drabness of unbleached fabric.

At the start and end of each act, female servants run to draw a large fraying curtain, like an aging window drape that doesn’t really conceal anything, while the army of prying servants primarily occupy themselves with eavesdropping through the nearest keyhole. It somehow becomes heartwarming that things always go wrong and to see the lies piled upon lies in the great act two finale collapse into joyous chaos.

Siobhan Stagg established the character of Susanna with the simple beauty and attractiveness of her voice.

Yet this on its own would not sustain this revival were it not for an equally bejewelled cast in which each character is defined and refined by distinctive vocal fabric. Each number enveloped the listener anew in the bright freshness of Mozart’s seemingly endless melodic inspiration.

With the single word “Cinque” (“Five” – he is measuring a bed) baritone Michael Sumuel established a robust, rich vocal presence that immediately caught the ear. His Non piu andrai at the end of act one had well-edged articulation and buoyant rhythmic vigour, and he animated the stage throughout with naturally responsive musical and dramatic energy, as though always on the brink of some new lame idea.

As Susanna, Siobhan Stagg was the musical opposite, establishing the character with the simple beauty and attractiveness of her voice. It had ample power when needed but was at its most touching in moments like her act four aria, Deh vieni, sung in front of the curtain, where she revealed hidden soft lights against the orchestra’s transparently coloured wind solos.

Each character is defined and refined by distinctive vocal fabric.

Against such honest straightforward tones, it fell to Kiandra Howarth to find a new sound for the Countess’s woe. In her act two aria, Porgi amor, she insinuated a loftier shade, swelling to blushing colour yet always with an immaculately smooth surface, and developed these shades with further depth and nuance in Dove sono in act three.

Gordon Bintner was an imperious, coercive and thoroughly unpleasant Count singing Vedro, mentr’io sospiro in act three with sinister control and aloof precision that was both comic in its impotence and menacing in intent. As an androgenous Cherubino, Emily Edmonds sang Non so piu in act one with pantingly precise rhythmic articulation.

Voi, che sapete in act two had rounded warmth in sound, suggesting a hint of adult passion behind the well-behaved primness of the phrases. As Barbarino, who is required to sing the opera’s most plaintive music over a lost pin, Celeste Lazarenko’s was shaped and well-rounded. It was gratifying to hear the vocal maturity that Richard Anderson brought to Dr Bartolo’s act one aria La vendetta in which he mixed command of line with almost spiteful precision.

Dominica Matthew brought well-characterised roughness to the role of Marcellina and Virgilio Marino sang Don Basilio with oleaginous obsequiousness. The Opera Australia Chorus animated the finales with thrilling edge, the women singing the cameo choruses with balanced poise.

Conductor Matteo Dal Maso led a nervously energised overture and nicely ironic marches from the Opera Australia Orchestra. With some judicious cuts and good pacing from Dal Maso, act four avoided the sagging momentum that plagues some Figaros and the standing ovation at the end suggested no-one was even thinking about the last train.