The Marriage Plot: Figaro At The Met

Photo: Ken Howard
 
Seeking to find logic in the scenic flow of The Marriage Of Figaro, UK-based designer Rob Howell took what he calls “curious stage directions,” and tried to make sense of where and what was happening. His handsome new revival premiered at The Metropolitan Opera on September 22 as the first new production of the 2014-2015 season. It returns for five additional performances in December.
 
Conducted by maestro James Levine and directed by Sir Richard Eyre, with lighting by Paule Constable, the production has both sets and costumes by Howell, a creative combination he prefers, noting, “I like both jobs and enjoy working with scenery builders and costume fitters.” It is more common in Europe for a designer to do both, and from an aesthetic point of view, Howell adds, “I can tell when two people did the designs, and I think it’s better not to be able to tell. I feel like it’s beneficial if everything in the physical world of the story goes through one filter. I don’t want to see fabric in a costume competing with the fabric on a sofa.”
 
In designing this set, Howell pondered some of the action. “As written, there is no scene change before the entire chorus shows up in Figaro’s room where he is measuring to see if a bed will even fit,” the designer indicates. “People might meet in a corridor but not in his room. I wanted a set that could move and take us places where the entire staff of the castle might actually be.” Thus, a rotating set on The Met’s 58'-diameter turntable sits on a 60'-square wagon and allows for fluid transitions and for the below- and above-stairs worlds to easily be seen.
 
Set in Seville, Spain, the action has been updated to the 1930s, yet set in an 18th-century castle. “My initial idea was for tall, square birdcages,” notes Howell. “Yet with Mozart’s music, the squares seemed too angular, so I went to round shapes, which fit well with the turntable.” 
 
Photo: Ken Howard
 
The result is a central rotating cylinder with a smaller one on either side, originally meant to rotate in different directions and at different speeds like a large toy, but the production ran into budgetary restrictions. The latticework design feels Moorish or Moroccan, with large lanterns hanging in the circular spaces. “There is Spanish influence, but I wasn’t interested in putting Spain on stage,” admits Howell, whose talented model makers made an exquisite little replica of the set, a 1:24 scale model complete with turntable.
 
The main horizontal and vertical sections of the cylinders are made of steel and aluminum, while the details were created with a 3D printer that Howell found useful for the costumes as well. “The countess wears a blue dress with angular pleating and triangular buttons,” he says. “We 3D-printed a triangular belt buckle to match.” 
 
With a series of small rooms on the turntable, Howell was also able to create an intimacy for the scenes with just a few singers, using the architecture of the set to shrink the huge stage, as required by the story. “So it’s not too big for two people in a small room,” comments Howell, who added corridor spaces to help narrow the width of the apparent proscenium. “The turntable is also a good device to revolve the scenery as far down front as possible.”
 

Two Places At Once

 
Photo: Ken Howard
 
Towering more than 20' tall, the circular walls have more details cut away at the top, where there is a filigree pattern, while at 10' to 15', the set is completely solid. The famous window, out of which Cherubino flees to avoid discovery in Susanna’s chambers, is set higher than usual, with an armoire that needs to be scaled in the escape. “The more danger you feel in that room, the more exciting it is,” says Howell.
 
In working with Constable, Howell refers to her as “a genius. This is a hard set to light, with little room for backlight, so she had to be more clever in the lighting design than one might think, hiding lights in the side towers.” 
 
As both set and costume designer, Howell found himself occasionally required in two places at once, running from tech rehearsals to costume fittings. The decision to set the opera in the 1930s was predicated by the fact that “we wanted to make it as contemporary as possible but still believe the count’s story of being allowed to sleep with anyone he wanted in the tradition of droit du seigneur,” says Howell. The '30s provide a pretty silhouette for the clothes yet still justify the story. “What other period would be as sexy yet still work with this archaic law?”
 
Howell declares the costumes “beautifully made” by The Met’s own ateliers and that the singers wear them beautifully as well. The look evokes upscale pre-WWII Europe as well as Hollywood in the '30s, with sexy, glamorous clothes in which, Howell says, “people know they look good and feel good.” In this case, the costumes also add the only color to the production as the set has a uniform burnished look, making the characters pop out against it. 
 
Photo: Ken Howard
 
One of the through lines in the costuming is the color red, from the count’s deep red robe to the countess’ red gown and accents on the staff’s Sunday best. One costuming challenge is for Cherubino, a girl playing a boy who then disguises herself as a girl. “I designed a trouser role, and you have to try to ignore the curves you are normally in search of,” Howell says. “It’s sort of counterintuitive to flatten a girl as a boy.”
 
The first production was on the heels of the summer’s labor disputes that could have cancelled the season, yet all’s well that ends well. The Marriage Of Figaro marks Howell’s third Met production, including Carmen (his Met debut in 2010) and Werther (last season), while his Manon Lescaut is on the drawing boards for 2016. “I love working there,” says Howell. “It’s a very friendly building for a designer.” 
 
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