I have always thought of Claus Guth’s Figaro as a shadow performance, as what would result if Mozart’s wicked doppelgänger had written an opera. It’s not just the gloomy colour palette or the looming, faded walls, but a pervasive aura: dark, brooding, sexually charged, and occasionally actually threatening, it gives us an aristocratic household in decay, gripped by conflict and emotional turmoil.

The COC’s take on the production, opening the winter season on Friday, succeeded in infusing what I have always found to be a very clever, but simply far too dreary and angst-filled Figaro with a welcome dose of merriment and self-conscious parody. Perhaps a celebratory atmosphere was in the air for the occasion of Mozart’s 267th birthday – fitting indeed, for Guth’s production was originally created for the Salzburg Festspiele in honour of the composer’s 250th year in 2006. To this revival – under the direction of Marcelo Buscaino – the opening night audience responded in kind (indeed some in my row were worryingly hysterical at times), appreciative of the quality acting and genuine comedy to which the ensemble had evidently dedicated much attention. The quality of the performances was noticeably high in unfailing attention to comedic timing, blending with carefully handled moments of stillness and pathos alongside scenes of deeper conflict.

Luca Pisaroni was a delightfully witty Figaro, offering a strong, rich vocal performance throughout, and charming in his portrayal as affable and slightly haphazard, and contributed many moments of comic relief. Memorable especially was his bemused wander across the stage holding a dead raven (perhaps a crow?) at arm’s length while continuing the ongoing dialogue. Gordon Bintner’s Count Almaviva brought enough of the requisite authoritarian bully persona to dominate the stage when necessary, but also leaned well into the signature desperate histrionics of this production. We saw a man out of control, acting blindly, irrationally, and often pathetically, but he avoided – mercifully, in my opinion – overexaggerated theatrics. I could perhaps have done without the axe to the Countess’s throat, but fault there hardly lies with the singer. If a slightly bigger sound would have been welcomed, Bintner overall offered a commanding performance. Lauren Fagan impressed as the suffering Countess, always projecting a firm control of line and a warm, lush tone. I did think that perhaps she might have had one less thing to worry about – on top of the philandering husband, a house in disarray, and the feverish amorous attentions of a page-boy – if she put her arms inside the enormous fur coat she sported during (the beautifully sung) “Porgi, amor.” It did, however, furnish multiple opportunities to make a great deal of very dramatic, sudden gestures (and for Susanna, played adroitly by Andrea Carroll, to get good practice in scarpering across the stage to readjust the coat on her ladyship’s shoulders).