The Marrriage of Figaro, Opera Project, Tobacco Factory, Bristol review - small is beautiful indeed

The Marriage of Figaro is undoubtedly one of the greatest operas ever written. Mozart’s masterpiece is a display of musical perfection that never ceases to touch the heart and stimulate the musical mind.

This gripping and enormously entertaining tale of love, illusion and betrayal, draws its appeal and strength from an array of fallible characters, laid bare by their foibles and yet united in humanity. Opera Project’s paired down production at Bristol’s Tobacco Factory, stays close to the brilliance of music and plot, never tempted to bring this magisterial work up to date or score points from ticking the boxes of contemporary correctness.

The Marriage of Figaro was revolutionary for its time. Mozart and librettist Da Ponte had a message. This was an opera first performed in 1786, just 13 years before the French Revolution. The servants turn the tables of power on their masters. They are as essential to this roller-coaster of a plot as could be rather than servile appendages. The powerful social message is underscored throughout the opera with fabulously composed and rightfully cherished ensemble vocal pieces, in which everyone has an equal voice, not just the ‘leads’. There’s a feminist message too: the Countess and Susanna are as wily and forceful – if not more so – than the Count and Figaro.The humanity at the core of this egalitarian opera benefits enormously from being staged in the round, in a former industrial building that has over the years become a kind of alchemist’s vessel, in which the power of dramatic story-telling is amplified by the intimacy this small space affords. Although opera has found other settings that contrast with the plush grandeur of red-velvet "houses", it’s a genre that still relies all too often on the force of scale: big budgets, big voices and big prices.

With a 10-piece orchestra (2 violins, and single viola, cell, double bass, and flute, oboe, clarinet, bassoon and horn), barely any set, the focus is on the ever-flowing drama. Liberated from the literal framing of the proscenium arch, and the musicians on the same level as the singers, and a great deal of eye contact between conductor Jonathan Lyness, as well as the cast with the audience, something remarkable happens which, for all the grand performances of Figaro, serves the brilliant essence of the work extraordinarily well. I’m not normally a fan of English-language Da Ponte, but here, with Amanda Holden’s perfectly judged translation, the immediacy of the English supports accessibility, with a remarkable feeling of closeness to the drama and its characters.

It’s not just the setting: Lyness – a specialist of the craft – has created a reduced orchestration that manages astonishing authenticity. Much of the opera takes place in a bed-chamber, and the opera is, to some extent, a bedroom farce. It seems appropriate that we should be hearing the subtler sound of a chamber group. Even without tympani and normal full orchestral-size string, wind and brass sections, Mozart’s exquisite music shines through, as if we were listening to one of his enchanting wind divertimenti or serenades, alongside a string quintet. From the glorious overture on, Jonathan Lyness, coaxing tremendous energy out of the band, makes the point. This isn’t Mozart lite, but something distilled and refined, much as might happen in the imagined alchemical reduction of metals into gold.

The singers are all superbly cast. Not operatic stars, but all of them of a very high standard, no weak link here. They can certainly move and act as well – though some, like Lorena Paz Nieto (Susanna, pictured left) stand out – she's particularly gifted when it comes to navigating a stage with a mixture of grace and contagious fun. Galina Averina (pictured below, right) conjures the resigned melancholia of Countess Almaviva beautifully, a full rounded soprano which loses nothing of its texture when she reaches for the higher register or greater volume. Lorena Paz Nieto has more of a soubrette’s voice, perfect for Susanna, with full command of the genre. Philip Smith (Count Almaviva, pictured above, with Malachy Frame, Ian Beadle, Jonathan Cooke) evokes his role’s mix of febrile insecurity and macho boasting with nuance. He, along with Figaro (Malachy Frame) has a fine voice, never a hint of strain, and visible pleasure in giving voice to emotionally rich music.

The rest of the cast are all of the same standard, and clearly enjoying the proximity to a very responsive audience: Felicity Buckland (Marcellina), full-voiced and super-skilled at comedy; Ian Beadle (Doctor Bartolo), with greasy black hair, and body language overflowing with sleaze, supported by Jonathan Cooke as Don Basilio, a suitably shifty man of the law, and a wonderfully voiced Siân Roberts as the youthful Barbarina. Richard Studer’s always lively production is graced with erotic sensuality, laced with comedy, plenty of evocations of bump-and-grind that suit an opera in which sex – and love – are very present throughout.

The production is set in an imagined Seville, with an array of costumes that playfully evoke a cartoon-low-rent Andalusia. These work well – except perhaps for Anna-Luise Wagner’s Cherubino: this is a role that thrives on ridicule, and she plays it a little too blatantly: his/her silly outfit is more distracting and close to pantomime, than enhancing of the comic narrative that unfolds.

Lyness often collaborates with director Studer – notably for Mid-Wales Opera, Longborough and West Green. There’s a tangible harmony in their approach to intimate – chamber – opera. It’s not easy to keep singers moving around a stage that’s surrounded by audience and orchestra, and by constantly, yet never in excess, shifting point of view and relationship they bring a joyful vivacity, and edge-of-your-seat quality that’s rare in large scale opera. In this case, small is very much beautiful, and Opera Project offer an evening of sparkling joy and wonderful music.

• The Marriage of Figaro at the Tobacco Fatcory until 12 October
• More opera reviews on theartsdesk