Review: The Marriage of Figaro – Scottish Opera 2026

Reviving a production as familiar (to Opera lovers) as Sir Thomas Allen’s The Marriage of Figaro risks slipping into a safe period romp. Happily, Scottish Opera’s latest touring iteration mostly sidesteps this trap. Set over a single, frantic “day of madness,” Mozart and Da Ponte’s masterpiece follows the betrothed servants Figaro and Susanna as they scramble to outwit their master, Count Almaviva, who is hell-bent on exercising his feudal right to bed the bride on her wedding night.

Beneath the powdered wigs (are they a little overdone? Maybe) lies a razor-sharp critique of aristocratic entitlement, and driven by a vibrant cast, this revival unearths the comedy’s original edge.

Staging the Class War: From Rustic Earth to Stylized Intrigue

Before a note is sung, Simon Higlett’s scenic design establishes the physical battleground for this story of escalating class friction. Framed by soaring Regency columns, the staging initially embraces a rustic, cornfield aesthetic reminiscent of Jordan Fein’s recent Fiddler on the Roof. It’s an effective visual shorthand that roots the servant class in earthy reality. As the women take control of the narrative and begin laying traps for the Count, the design gracefully pivots post-intermission, becoming a stylized, vibrantly colourful space to accommodate the intensifying intrigues.

Momentum dips slightly, however, during the climactic Act IV. Staged beneath a striking hunter’s moon—where the cast swaps clothes in the darkened garden to finally expose the Count’s infidelity—the nocturnal deceptions feel a touch undercooked. While the choreography boasts flashes of comedic inspiration, the sequence overall lacks the finely tuned execution of the earlier scenes.

The Resistance and the Rulers: Standout Performances

This minor lull notwithstanding, the stage remains full of highly talented performers. As the embattled valet Figaro, Edward Jowle is a tremendous operatic actor. Rejecting the jovial schemer archetype, he plays a restless, suspicious hustler. His Act IV diatribe against female infidelity—delivered directly to the audience under full houselights—is a masterstroke of comedic complicity. If his voice lacks a little power at the lower end of his bass-baritone range, it’s still a supple, expressive instrument. 

Opposite him, Soprano Ava Dodd’s company debut as Susanna is simply triumphant. Dodd infuses the targeted bride with a steel-spined intelligence, guiding the chaotic narrative with luminous vocal clarity. Her Act IV declaration of love is a masterclass in restraint, delivered with breathless, silvery poise.

The aristocrats they must negotiate their lives around are drawn with equal nuance. Ian Rucker’s Count Almaviva avoids pantomime villainy, playing the petty tyrant with a dangerous, entitled libido. 

Alexandra Lowe delivers the cheated Countess’s solos with an aching, dignified lyricism, her velvet tones contrasting beautifully with Dodd’s bright soprano during a sublime Act III letter duet. Even during the final ensemble declaration that everyone will be happy now, she injects her performance with a weary expectation of future betrayals.

The broader ensemble adds ample texture to proceedings. Jeni Bern rescues Marcellina from the tired trope of the bitter spinster, offering an engaging performance and a brilliant visual and comedic contrast to Edward Hawkins’ tall, wry Dr. Bartolo. Francis Church wrings genuine physical humour from the bibulous gardener Antonio — notably during a tumbling window exit—while Kira Kaplan brings charming, crystalline remorse to Barbarina’s Act IV pin aria. Crucially, choreographer Kally Lloyd-Jones keeps the extensive chorus and child performers meticulously drilled, ensuring the stage feels vibrant but never cluttered.

The Musical Engine: English Translation and Orchestral Drive

Propelling this interpersonal chaos is Amanda Holden’s lively English translation. Whilst executed with flair, there’s no avoiding a little loss of musical flow, particularly through faster, wordier sections, but the increase in accessibility for a mostly English-speaking audience makes it a fair exchange. 

In the pit, conductor Dane Lam guides the Orchestra of Scottish Opera with historically-informed momentum. Utilising natural brass and timpani, Lam coaxes a lean, muscular sound. While his overture occasionally verges on a helter-skelter sprint, his pacing through the complex ensemble finales is secure. Rounding out the musical texture is Toby Hession at the continuo piano. His witty accompaniment acts provide a sly subtextual commentator throughout the recitatives, dropping unexpected Mozartian nods that keep the ear constantly engaged.

Ultimately, purists seeking a ‘classic’ Marriage of Figaro will likely find their dreams answered in this lavish revival (they may even forgive the English translation). Those seeking a radical deconstruction of the text may find this a little safe. Yet executed with such a degree of theatrical intelligence, nuanced character and ensemble chemistry, you could hardly call this a museum piece. Intellectually sharp, visually arresting, entertaining, and alive with some of the greatest music ever written, Scottish Opera has produced yet another wonderful night at the Opera.

Featured Image: Edward Jowle (Figaro) centre – The Marriage of Figaro © Mihaela Bodlovic

The Marriage of Figaro will play the Festival Theatre, Edinburgh, until Saturday 6th June 2026 before the tour continues to Aberdeen and Inverness. For tickets or more information, click here: https://www.scottishopera.org.uk/shows/the-marriage-of-figaro/