Review – Wild Arts: Marriage of Figaro at Theatre Royal Norwich

cast

Jack Sandison Figaro
Ellie Neate Susanna
Timothy Nelson Count Almaviva
Elinor Rolfe Johnson Countess Almaviva
Abbie Ward Cherubino
Olivia Ray Marcellina
Timothy Dawkins Bartolo / Antonio
William Searle Basilio / Don Curzio
Eleanor O’Driscoll Barbarina

Production

Orlando Jopling Conductor
Danielle de Niese Director
Laura Stanfield Designer
Satoshi Kubo, Aleksandra Myslek, David Eaton, Alice Farnham, Sergey Rubin Musical preparation
Emma Large Associate director
The Wild Arts Ensemble Orchestra, Leader Eleanor Corr

Tuesday 8 September 2026 · 6.30-9.30pm
Theatre Royal Norwich

Review

Wild Arts have leaned heavily into promoting their 2026 Figaro with Danielle de Niese in her directorial debut. There’s clear evidence of De Niese’s direction in the likeable comedic performances from this young cast. Strong voices and a committed theatricality power this production, but it is by and large the comedy that drives this forward in the latter stages of an 18 date tour that began back in early June. Though the company must surely be tired by the considerable ask — a vastly different acoustic and space in every venue they rock up at — the craft shines when it breaks through. At the curtain call, thumbs-ups were traded between cast, music director, and ensemble — a small moment of backstage relief bleeding into the proceedings.

There is spirit, guile, and delight in Ellie Neate’s depiction of Susanna with a reliable strength that begs for a larger more resonant space. Similarly, Elinor Rolfe Johnson as Countess Almaviva comes with a wry look and a plucky can-do-won’t-take-any-shit attitude that works well as a foil for the Count’s blustery entitlement and Figaro’s lovable chaos. Her Act Two “Porgi amor” was particularly touching, underlined by a judicious use of lighting on the screens that, in this space, worked hard against the otherwise vast expanse of blank backdrop behind her. The inadvertent anchor in the Norwich performance was undoubtedly Abbie Ward as Cherubino who shone brightest with a solid voice, nimble characterisation and consistent energy. Her first scene seemed to bring everything together on stage, her seemingly swooping everyone else up along with her.

The English translation is a clever nod to budgetary constraints — no surtitles needed. And whilst at times the clunkiness of the language sometimes distracts from the score, it is the translation that provides additional scope for a very British style of humour. Jack Sandison as Figaro is an entertaining mix of Rowan Atkinson and TV presenter Matt Allwright, comfortable playing for laughs. His and Timothy Dawkins’ characterisation as an oily Bartolo helps keep shifting the production along. Things do get a little meta at the beginning of the third act when the Count, looking over his newspaper, breaks the fourth wall with the line “Oh God, what a shit show” — an efficient way to grab the attention of the audience settling down after the final bell, and one that drives a side-eye. As the laughter dims, there’s an unsettling moment when we’re not quite sure what specifically the line is referring to.

Pragmatism framed in a commitment to sustainability drives many of the design choices, seen most evidently in positioning the ensemble on stage with the cast. This reduces the usable performance space which reduces the need for design — invaluable when keeping costs down. More eclectic spaces on tour like Thorington Theatre no doubt compensate for the budgetary constraints, but this in turn exposes limitations in more conventional theatrical spaces. In Norwich’s Theatre Royal, restricting performance to one side of the stage had the effect of casting the other half entirely static – a black hole where the only movement was the music director behind his electric keyboard earnestly geeing everyone along and, at times, risking upstaging those in costume.

In this space, there were moments in the comparatively crowded side of the stage when things felt a little awkward. A lack of assertion in music direction in places resulted in misaligned entries, something made all the more apparent because of the sparse orchestration. Chamber forces would have worked well in the round in some of the other venues on the tour, but risk more when behind the proscenium arch, and the ensemble, for all the lift trios and quartets gave the sound, felt underpowered whenever the score reached for its big climaxes. Exposed lines required more of the performers in terms of characterisation, movement, and acting. When the energy arrived (most notably at Cherubino’s first entrance), what had begun as clunky, suddenly took flight.

It’s undoubtedly a tough ask of all involved to rock up in one venue, do one performance, and take off again. What likely reads as intimate and unforced at Thorington or Layer Marney venues becomes a static half-stage at Norwich. Optimising for the venue, not just for the tour, has to be part of the job — shifting a naturalistic, open-air staging into a proscenium arch is underserving the audience who paid to be there. There’s opportunity to stretch further and come up with an ingenious solution to the thorny issue of a transferable, adaptable visual design. That and a harpsichord. Or even an upright piano.

Wild Arts Figaro concludes with a performance at Birmingham Rep on 27 September 2026.