Marriage minefield

There are two places in Le Nozze di Figaro where the music undergoes a brief but potent change, which indicates how much deeper the undercurrents are than the busy actions we are witnessing. If either of these is short-changed or mismanaged, the whole work is rendered less moving and serious than it really is. The first and less conspicuous is in the finale to Act II, when the Count is trying to trap Figaro about the letter of assignation. The Count says he can tell from Figaro’s face that he is lying, and Figaro replies that in that case his face is the liar. The music to which he sings that disappears briefly, but then reappears as a kind of prayer or hymn to which Susanna and Figaro, with the support of the Countess, ask the Count to bless their marriage. There is a solemnity about their music unlike anything we have previously encountered, underpinned by a sustained low note on the double basses.

The second place, this one unmissable, is in the finale to Act IV, when Figaro, briefly alone, reflects that ‘Tutto è tranquillo e placido’, which is quite untrue, and goes on to draw elaborate classical parallels with his situation. This passage is only 12 bars long, but has an accompaniment worthy of the great Wind Serenade K.361, and in a way is utterly at odds with anything else in the opera. Yet it prepares the ground for the radiance of the final scene, in which the Count begs for forgiveness from the Countess, and she grants it, then everyone joins in.

In the new production at Glyndebourne directed by Michael Grandage, and with the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment conducted by Robin Ticciati, the first of these passages goes unnoticed on the stage, since Grandage seems bent only on frothy merriment.