S.F. Opera blissfully executes ‘Figaro’ in colonial America
The San Francisco Opera’s new production of Mozart’s “Marriage of Figaro” arrived at the War Memorial Opera House on Friday, Oct. 11, amid the heady clouds of a highconcept premise, but it sailed out again nearly four hours later on the strength of much more fundamental virtues — powerful singing, magnificent conducting and a spirit of humane generosity.
That’s a tradeoff anyone could embrace.
This “Figaro” marks the start of a multiyear project encompassing Mozart’s three operatic collaborations with librettist Lorenzo da Ponte (the others are “Così fan tutte” and “Don Giovanni”). And the overarching idea, which we’ll come back to, may yet pay artistic dividends down the road.
For now, though, what we have on our hands is a splendid demonstration of how to present one of the funniest, sweetest, sexiest and most emotionally probing works in the
operatic repertoire with all its treasures intact. If, like me, you consider “Figaro” to be a work of seemingly endless musical and dramatic riches, Friday’s opening could only help make the case.
It featured a large and almost universally impressive cast of singers, most of them making their company debuts. And it featured the welcome return of conductor Henrik Nánási, whose buoyant, skillful leadership in the company’s 2017 “Elektra” turns out to have been no fluke.
And in the hands of director Michael Cavanagh, everything in this opera — from the overarching themes of political and sexual power to the finegrained details of the staging — came through perfectly.
That last bit in itself is no minor accomplishment. “Figaro,” whose action rolls out within the ostentatious temporal confines of a single day, is as packed with comic choreography as an elaborate farce. It has characters running in and out of closets and under chairs, and only when all the parts are operating like welloiled clockwork — as they do here — does everything register crisply.
At the same time, the piece’s class critique — the perennial struggle between aristocracy and servants — is shot through with an erotic undercurrent that can surface in various ways. Some of it, like Count Almaviva’s predatory rounds among the women of his domain, is fairly straightforward; other strains, including the lonely ambivalence of his neglected wife, are more subtly drawn.
At the heart of any production are the manservant Figaro and his bridetobe, Susanna, and the San Francisco production is beautifully served in both roles. Bassbaritone Michael Sumuel, one of the few familiar members of the cast, stepped handsomely into the title role, shaping his performance with plenty of theatrical gusto and vocal suavity.
As Susanna, soprano Jeanine De Bique gave a performance of charisma and wit, and although her singing took a while to reach its full scale — she was often a bit underpowered in the first two acts — she came into her own with a lustrous, vibrantly etched account of the final “Garden Aria.” Baritone Levente Molnár was a tonally robust Count and soprano Nicole Heaston brought splendor and tenderness to the Countess.
Yet the evening’s most impressive debut was that of mezzosoprano Serena Malfi as the hormonally addled and eternally randy pageboy Cherubino. This was a performance rich in tonal colors, full of quickwitted theatrical poise and striking just the right balance between poignancy and absurdity.
Weren’t there any weak links? No, there were not.
The antagonists (calling them villains would go too far) were superbly embodied by Catherine Cook as Marcellina (her signature role, and one that gets better with each outing), Greg Fedderly as the oleaginous Basilio, and James Creswell as Dr. Bartolo, whose booming celebration of the joys of revenge was among the best I’ve heard. Soprano Natalie Image made an alluring Barbarina, the Opera Chorus weighed in persuasively as members of the local peasantry and in the pit, Nánási spurred the Opera Orchestra to acts of fleetness and rhythmic vivacity.
Finally, about the concept. “Figaro” is the first of a projected series of productions with an American theme, which are destined to play out at different time periods on the grounds of a single house. On this occasion the setting is colonial America; in future seasons we’re promised a 1930s “Così” and a “Don Giovanni” set in a dystopian late 21st century.
I’m looking forward to those, but aside from a witty invocation of the painting “The Spirit of ’76 ” and a colonial flavor to choreographer Lawrence Pech’s Act 3 dances, there’s not much to distinguish a “Figaro” set in 18th century Seville from one set in 18th century New England. And the one big difference turns out to be unfortunately muddled.
That’s the issue of race. In this production — purely by chance, according to a program note — both Figaro and Susanna are portrayed by singers of color (Sumuel is African American, De Bique is Trinidadian). That would have left an opening to recast the politics of “Figaro” in a racial light, which could potentially have been a provocative reckoning with the original sin of American history.
But casting Heaston, who is also African American, as the Countess only confuses the matter, at least in the production’s current incarnation. (Heaston was a late replacement for the Irish soprano Jennifer Davis, who is white.) Either way, Cavanagh seems to want it both ways — hinting at the racial subtext that is central to colonial America, but not actually following through on its implications.
These and other issues may well become clearer with the coming productions. For now, let’s celebrate a masterpiece of the operatic repertoire delivered with such musical and theatrical verve. Joshua Kosman is The San Francisco Chronicle’s music critic. Email: jkosman@sfchronicle.com Twitter: @JoshuaKosman