United Kingdom Edinburgh International Festival 2024 [11] – Mozart, Le nozze di Figaro: Soloists, Orchestra of Komische Oper Berlin / James Gaffigan (conductor). Festival Theatre, Edinburgh, 17.8.2024. (GT)
Mozart’s The Marriage of Figaro is the second fully staged opera at the Edinburgh International Festival after the pandemic, and it ensured a full house on this, the second night in their three-night run at the Festival Theatre. Berlin’s Komische Oper brought two casts with them, and their orchestra, unlike the Opéra Comique’s Carmen who employed the Scottish Chamber Orchestra in the pit. If that was a positive note, the drawback was in the often-distracting production by Kirill Serebrennikov, who, with his compatriot Dmitri Tcherniakov, has a reputation for controversial stagings of the most popular operas in the repertoire. Usually, Serebrennikov’s productions carry an X certificate, and this staging contained both nudity and profane language. While there were several weaknesses in his conception of Mozart’s masterwork, there were several positive benefits that allowed a fresh approach.
One of the distinguishing aspects of the staging was the accent given to societal class divisions which were prevalent in Beaumarchais’s original play, and in Da Ponte’s version that raised the plight of the abusive treatment of women in society. In the Komische Oper production, the profligate wealth of the aristocracy is evident through the Count’s paintings and sculptures, his lifestyle, as is the poverty of the lower classes as well as the sexual abuse of working women in the lowest depths of society. Serebrennikov says, ‘Da Ponte did everything he could to soften the criticism of power in the libretto and Mozart was more attracted to the personal, psychological aspects of human nature than to the social and political themes. […] Instead, he gives him [Figaro] the aria “Aprite un po’quegli occhi” about the betrayal of women. Susanna is the one who really knows how to stay several steps ahead of her situation.’ To his credit, the Russian director transformed this operatic comedy into a stage work of greater significance beyond its fabulous arias, witty tunes and bawdy absurdity.
Like his compatriot, Tcherniakov, Serebrennikov likes to split his sets into two or three stage levels in an effort to minimise the scene changes; In Acts I and II, there were split levels with the basement below divided into a laundrette, and a locker room, and above, the home of the Count with its modernist sculptures and paintings evincing his profligate lifestyle. Downstairs, an old woman busied herself cleaning the washing machines. As the overture opened, the male and female characters entered to change into their working clothes while trying to get an internet connection on their mobile phones – this would be a frequent practice throughout the show. During the evening, an uplifted mattress revealed the texting (often blasphemous) between Susanna and Cherubino – adding to the audience’s amusement but diverting attentions from the singing.
Serebrennikov introduced an extra persona in Cherubina, who sings Cherubino’s lines for him, for he is a deaf-mute actor who communicates through his love poems, and his signs and movements. He is a special character – a constantly hyperactive young man with vibrant sexuality – his ‘singing’ was presented by his alter ego in the Cherubina of Susan Zarrabi and another of the ‘stars’ of the evening. Another ‘star’ was revealed in the opening arioso of Tommaso Barea’s Figaro – he has a magnificent baritone and a presence that dominated every scene. Of the others, the Russian-born baritone Andrey Zhilikhovsky’s Count Almaviva was superb in voice and presence, as was the Susanna of the Australian soprano Siobhan Stagg who was terrific, and who revealed that she is a great actress in tackling the shifting facets of her dilemma. The soprano of Nadja Mchantaf’s Countess Almaviva was outstanding in her first great aria, yet later was found wanting in colour and range, but possessed a fine stage presence.
The brilliant characterisation of Georgi Kudrenko’s Cherubino often stole the show with his movements and facial expressions, and it is hardly surprising Serebrennikov frequently has him involved in both movie and stage shows. Of the singers, a fine basso profundo voice by Peter Lobert’s Antonio brought distinction to his limited role; the Basilio of Ivan Turšić was excellent and revealed fine acting; Ulrike Helzel’s Marcellina was outstanding in her bright mezzo-soprano and finely poised characterisation of a gallery owner. Mention must be made of the non-speaking part of Susanne Bredehoft, who portrayed the part of a forgotten, neglected person as the old woman yet is the person holding it together. Most annoyingly however were the frequent trivial activities that distracted one from the singing. It was most bizarrely manifest in the final scene of Act II by the wild dancing of a young man with a knife and the strangely violent walking sequences. Most gruesome of all was the scene at the end of Act IV of the young man stabbing several women.
In Act III, the narrative of class differences was evident in the neon lighting projection of ‘Capitalism kills love’ demonstrating the profligately wealthy whims of Almaviva and his elite cabal. The contrast is emphasised by the scene downstairs, where the laundrette is now full of cast-offs, trash and old shopping trolleys. The costume designs by Tatiana Dolmatovskaya, and by Serebrennikov were modern and reflected the position of the characters; either glitter and bling for the Count and Countess, while dull blue working garb for the lower classes downstairs. Olaf Freese’s lighting scheme of bright pinks and soft blues gave a dream-like vision for the production, yet by contrast, the sets throughout were dominated by dull greys for downstairs and brilliant whites upstairs. The orchestra of the Komische Oper was directed masterfully by James Gaffigan, with many beautiful solos from the woodwind players, and notably the timpani, and of course the harpsichord continuo accompaniments and the sporadic mobile phone tunes that added an extra bit of humour to the show.
While Serebrennikov attempts to bring a contemporary feel to the original play La Folle Journee ou Le Mariage de Figaro by Beaumarchais – the result is not convincing. While there are many innovative aspects, much of the secondary activity takes the listener away from the main narrative through the silly jokes and trivia. Thankfully, the brilliant genius of Mozart’s score reminded one that great music reigns supreme, and it would not be difficult for future performances of this production to simply make some adjustments in the dramaturgy, and accordingly Serebrennikov’s production could reprise the genius of Walter Felsenstein and become a significant contribution to the many great productions of this masterpiece by Mozart.
Gregor Tassie
Featured Image: Komische Oper Berlin’s The Marriage of Figaro © Jess Shurte
Production:
Director, Set and Costume Designer – Kirill Serebrennikov
Set Co-Designer – Olga Pavlyuk
Costume Co-Designer – Tatiana Dolmatovskaya
Choreographer – Evgeny Kulagin
Video Designer – Ilya Shagalov
Lighting Designer – Olaf Freese
Dramaturgy – Julia Jorda Stoppelhaar, Daniil Orlov
Cast:
Count Almaviva – Andrey Zhilikhovsky
Countess Almaviva – Nadja Mchantaf
Susanna – Siobhan Stagg
Figaro – Tommaso Berea
Cherubina – Susan Zarrabi
Marcellina – Ulrike Helzel
Bartolo – Philipp Meierhöfer
Basilio – Ivan Turšić
Antonio – Peter Lobert
Cherubino – Georgy Kudrenko
The Count’s Henchman – Mikhail Polyakov
The Young Man – Nikita Elenev
The Old Woman – Susanna Bredehöft