DHO does the Marriage of Figaro.
Converted into a makeshift opera house, Dunster Dining Hall infused The Marriage of Figaro with an intimacy not typically associated with the most grandiloquent of theatrical traditions. Listening to Figaro and Susanna sing to one another, the former concerned only with the measurements of his marriage bed, the latter distressed over the Count’s advances at her, I felt more engaged with the often understated performance than I might have in a larger hall.
In the relatively small hall, Mozart’s music, both played by the orchestra and sung by the actors, had an opacity that kept the audience aware of its presence and role in the narrative. It sounded lively and bright, but acting itself disappointed me at first. For the most part, the action on stage was extremely simple and limited, and the characters seemed too natural given their caricature-like personalities. With further thought about the production’s choice and with consideration to other features of the show such as set design, however, I realized that this style suited the type of performance. The combination of toned-down acting (which did not hinder the expressivity of the singing) and the small hall made The Marriage of Figaro into something more relatable and accessible than a traditionally played opera.
A few key features of the opera pointed out the most important characteristics of the show, the first being the set. Each segment of wall or door on stage was clearly a fragment, as highlighted by the angular, jagged edges that made them appear to have been literally ripped out of an aristocratic home. These pieces emphasized the fact that the events taking place were not really happening at “The estate of Count Almaviva, just outside Seville,” but that they were really present here, in Dunster Dining Hall. The disproportionately large dining hall chandelier jutting down onto the stage had the same effect.
Just as these set pieces put the setting into place, the actors’ performances gave the opera a sense of reality. In particular, Elizabeth Leimkuhler’s ’15 lively portrayal of Cherubino, the Count’s pageboy, highlighted subtleties in the portrayal of the other characters. It is appropriate for Cherubino, a typically mischievous teenaged boy, to have more energy and enthusiasm than the rest of the people involved in the story. Thus, the emphasis on this character’s quirks brought out the subtler, but still absurd, habits of the other characters.
At the end of the show, the overall experience of the performance was extremely satisfying. The music was superb, and each aspect of the production came together to create a different take on a genre that can be difficult to relate to. The sung dialogue seemed as natural as speech, and stage director Stewart Kramer’s invitation to “experience the events of the opera in real time” in the program perfectly captured the unpretentious nature of the production.
Sarah Rosenthal ’15 (srosenthal@college) is looking forward to future Harvard operas.
