The second act of Mozart’s comic opera The Marriage of Figaro goes up and up a musical jumble then descends in a spiral. A single voice, then a second, then a third push the drama to greater and greater heights, the odd missteps corrected, the climb resumes, the summit in sight, until seven characters pile in with their individual ideas, ready for the dizzying descent into a chaotic heap.

There is a potential marriage in danger, a contract to be honored, a mysterious man who jumps, confusion over locked doors … the endless inventiveness and virtuoso ability of Mozart to keep so many musical ideas in the air. tune at a time is something to marvel at every time this evergreen opera is staged. In the elegant production of David McVicar, taken over at Covent Garden, the musical tapestry is also pleasing to the eye.

But with this revival comes an eighth voice – it’s still there but it doesn’t always make its mark as dramatically as this one. Under the direction of Royal Opera House Music Director Sir Antonio Pappano, the Royal Opera House Orchestra is a character in its own right, as astute as any schemer on stage, bursting with personality, moving forward as the count, his servant Figaro, Figaro’s future bride, and all the others with their own agendas.

This color and vibrancy is heightened by Pappano himself on the keyboard of the pianoforte continuo, keeping the music slightly forward, and central to the action – sung, but instrumentally.

The finale of Act 2 is a musical marvel. Photo: Clive Barda

Such an exciting mix of orchestra and singers is an opera rarity, and all the more enjoyable for it. This winning mix is ​​seasoned by a cheerful distribution, mainly Italian, which brings a commedia dell’arte sauce and liveliness to the party.

Baritone Riccardo Fassi and soprano Giulia Semenzato are Figaro and Susanna, the servants mistaking their employer’s lewd intentions on their way to marriage. Fassi, fun and with a rich voice, is a quick-witted match for the softly sung Susanna of Semenzato. Soprano Federica Lombardi as the neglected countess is gorgeous yet vulnerable, while Gianluca Buratto gives us unusually musical interference on Bartol.

Argentinian baritone Germán E Alcántara as Count Almaviva, looking like the silent film villain who ties young girls to rails, spins in a wonderfully frustrated performance, abandoning his Enlightenment device – is it a clock, is it a perpetual motion machine? – with an assault on the instruction manual familiar to anyone who has ever been defeated by Ikea.

Figaro (Riccardo Fassi) plots against his lewd employer with Marcellina (Monica Bacelli) and Gianluca Buratto (Bartolo). Photo: Clive Barda

Mezzo-soprano Hanna Hipp pops up everywhere as lusty teenager Cherubino, and there are entertaining turns in smaller roles.

Sumptuous in lush creams, copper and peacock blue, Tanya McCallin’s design evokes both the veneer of grand life and the misery under the stairs.

After the septet wonder of act two, there are still more details to be worked out in act four – voiced by 11 characters – humiliating the count, restoring the countess, finally leaving lovers in peace. This sometimes clothed last act goes by full speed with Pappano spinning the plates. Really, it’s a magical evening.

Other performances will take place on January 11, 13, 15, 19, 22, 25 and 27. Click here to book