Many years ago, I brought a friend of mine to a Marriage of Figaro in my hometown of Ann Arbor. He was the captain of the University of Michigan golf team. After the overture, he turned to me and said, “That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard.” I thought, “Well, he will never hear anything better, no matter how long he lives or how much he hears.”
In the Met’s production of the opera, there is stage action during the overture—scampering around and such. Is the overture not good enough? Does it need visual aid? Can music—just music—ever have pride of place?
But listen, this is a superb production—that of Sir Richard Eyre of 2014. In my review of the premiere, I called it “utterly Mozartean, and Da Pontesque.” (Should that have been “Da Ponte-esque”? I think so.) The production was revived at the Met last night. Responsible for the revival’s stage direction is Jonathon Loy.
The audience laughed all through the opera. I’m talking about genuine LOLs. The house rang with laugher, all night.
I remember what a Met veteran once told me: before titles—seatback titles, giving the libretto in translation—no one laughed, except at broad physical comedy. Pratfalls and the like. When titles came in, people got the jokes.
How did the overture go last night? It was okay—a little ragged, a little sluggish, but fine. As the opera went on, there was some disunity between the pit and the stage. Some stretches were uncrisp. At times, I wanted more heft or more élan. On the whole, however, the opera was conducted with grace and understanding.
Wielding the baton was Joana Mallwitz, a German in her late thirties. She conducted another Mozart opera, Così fan tutte, at the Salzburg Festival in 2020. (For my review, go here.) She is a very capable musician.
The Met had assembled a very capable cast, too. In the title role was Michael Sumuel, a bass-baritone from Texas. He has a beautiful, glowing, alive voice—big, too. This matters at the Met. It may matter particularly in Mozart, which can be swallowed up in so large a house.
Moreover, Mr. Sumuel portrayed Figaro with theatrical charm. Seldom is this servant—or is he the master?—so lovable.
His Susanna, our Susanna, was Olga Kulchynska, a Ukrainian soprano. She was quick—quick of mind, quick of spirit, often quick in singing. In “Deh vieni,” however, she was all bendy lyricism. Marvelous.
The Count was Joshua Hopkins, that elegant Canadian baritone. He was an immensely enjoyable Count, an entitled doofus (“entitled” literally and otherwise). His “Contessa, perdono” at the end was surpassingly beautiful.
And who was the Countess? Federica Lombardi, the Italian soprano. She sang her arias with long-breathed regality. Also, she looked like a Golden Age movie star—Rita Hayworth, possibly.
I have referred to Olga Kulchynska as “quick.” So was Sun-Ly Pierce, our Cherubino. She is a mezzo-soprano from Oneida County, New York. She was nimble, agile, both in her singing and in her movements. She has a slight voice, maybe—but it is focused and penetrating, and you could hear every note.
Maurizio Muraro, the Italian bass-baritone, made his Met debut in this opera in 2005. He was Dr. Bartolo. He again sang that role last night. Twenty years later, he has not lost a step. Furbo, he is—canny, cunning, wily. His Italian patter was exemplary.
By the way, with his white, wavy hair, he looks somewhat like Plácido Domingo, or at least he did from my seat.
His Marcellina was Elizabeth Bishop, the veteran American mezzo—satisfying, as always. Don Basilio was Brenton Ryan, an American tenor: thin in body and full of guile.
A young soprano can make a mark in the small role of Barbarina. She sings an aria in F minor, a rare key for Mozart. Meigui Zhang, from China, made a mark last night.
Over the years, I have used a phrase: “Met-worthy.” Many of us have high standards for this company. Some evenings are Met-worthy, some are not. This night was, very much so.
The Marriage of Figaro is a creative stream that has few rivals in music—nay, in art. Is it the best Mozart opera? I put this to a fellow critic as we left the house. He said, “Well, it’s about a four-way tie.” Ha, true.
