Le Nozze di Figaro (The Marriage of Figaro) by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart Metropolitan Opera, April 2, 1992 Metropolitan Opera House Maybe I have passed some kind of personal operatic milestone. Perhaps for the first time ever for me, last night's performance of Le Nozze di Figaro seemed familiar, comfortable in ways that just haven't been true before. I felt knew the work, the opera house and my own tastes with much more depth than has previously been the case, and it all combined to make for a kind of "breakthrough" evening for me. I don't mean to imply that rockets exploded or that the earth moved; rather the opposite is true. What I felt was solid, comfortable and relaxed about the experience. I was at home. I felt like a real opera lover and not a dilettante or poseur. The performance was good -- even quality in the singing throughout, much better acting than customary, a hard-working cast that moved the convoluted story along with dispatch and good spirits. (It was still long, of course, done here in four acts with two intermissions, but for all that the evening ended with a feeling of satisfaction.) I was disappointed that Frederica von Stade was indisposed and did not sing (she was scheduled as Cherubino) because I have heard her in concert and on recordings but never in an opera. Still, it was exciting to imagine what understudy Jane Bunnell must have felt, singing to the sold-out Metropolitan house alongside her better-known colleagues. Dawn Upshaw was a fresh, animated Susanna, very lively and charming. She played the role as as invigorated innocent, not so much sexy as willing. She never lagged and always brought energy to the stage whenever she was present. She sang well but not remarkably. Ferruccio Furlanetto, likewise, worked hard and gave a fine performance. He has a strong, smooth delivery and acted well (though not as well as Upshaw) throughout. He is handsome and energetic and seemed a believeable Figaro. Benita Valante was Countess Almaviva, a role she filled convincingly. She was stately and poised, a pretty and slightly wuthdrawn countess. I liked her singing better than Upshaw -- both are full, clean sopranos, but Valante seemed fuller in tone and to have more depth to it. (At times I tried listening to them sing with my eyes closed to see if I could distinguish between them. Usually I could, but not always. My ear just isn't as finely tuned as I wish it were.) I was less impressed with Jorma Hynninen as Count Almaviva. His singing and acting both suffered a little by comparison with the others: not bad, but never dead on. he was a bit stiff, a little underwhelming as a singer. Among others, I liked Heidi grant Murphy as Barbarina -- very pretty, animated, a clear sweet voice. Anthony Laciura (Don Basilo) had a strong tenor voice in an opera with too little for tenors to sing. James Courtney (Don Bartolo) and Sondra Kelly (Marcellina) both played their characters a little broadly for my taste but did a solid professional job. John Keenan conducted. Production, set and costume by Jean-Pierre Ponnelle. The sets were convincing and functional but strangely monochromatic for my taste; the costumes, likewise, were understated, particularly the women, who wore whites and pale blues. We sat next to a Mexican couple who live in Denver while in the U.S. Just down the asile were four women from Germany (at least, the said "danke schön" when they walked past my seat). You hear a lot of foreign language spoken in the lobbies. Before the performance, I watched the security guard threaten a man for trying to sell tickets inside the building to a small group standing against the wall and waiting for returns. (Tickets seemed harder to come by than for the preceeding night's Domingo Fancuilla, although perhaps we just got lucky on Fancuilla.) Another scalper, dressed in an elegant suit, escorted his Japanese customers outside before the transaction, telling them "It's the house policy, we have to go outside to do this." The tickets were, however, there to be had.