Last Updated on June 16, 2026
Fun and fugues in Verdi’s opera buffa
4.0 out of 5.0 starsFalstaff, based on The Merry Wives of Windsor, was Verdi’s third Shakespearean opera, an opera buffa which the composer longed to write, especially following on from his successful Macbeth and Otello. Verdi, in his late 70s at the time of composing Falstaff, feared he might not be able to complete the work. The librettist, Arrigo Boito, was an enthusiastic collaborator and helped get the project finished in 1893. It turned out to be Verdi’s final opera. As the ageing composer drew towards his end, he might have been aware of what he and Falstaff had in common as older men mindful of the need to give way to youth. No doubt Verdi had more insight into this than Falstaff.
Shakespeare drew Sir John Falstaff as a buffoonish character who had a bad influence on the heir to the throne, Prince Hal, much to the ire of the Court and his father, King Henry IV. It is said that Queen Elizabeth I so enjoyed Henry IV parts I and II, that she asked Shakespeare to write a play about Falstaff’s romantic endeavours. So audiences at Glyndebourne have the Queen to thank for this deliciously funny opera.
Verdi drew on the character as a bon vivant who appears in the Merry Wives as a conniving character. Falstaff is broke and hatches a plan to feather his nest by seducing two women, Mistress Page and Mistress Ford, who hold the purse strings of their wealthy husbands. The women are wise to Falstaff’s scheming and decide to turn the tables on him in a series of entertaining scenarios. The plot is one of light farce, although there are a few more serious themes – fidelity, jealousy, and the concept of honour, for example. A romantic subplot involves two young lovers, Nannetta Ford and Fenton, who eventually marry, despite Master Ford’s misgivings.
Musically, Falstaff is known to differ from Verdi’s other operas both in pace as well as the lack of lengthy arias. Falstaff features an ensemble cast, and the libretto is renowned for its wit and fast-moving dialogue. This production of Falstaff, directed by Richard Jones, is set in 1940s post-war England, and is a comedy that combines Shakespeare with Ealing comedy. The production was first performed at Glyndebourne in 2009.
Under the baton of Sian Edwards, the London Philharmonic Orchestra kept up a quick pace and a vigorous performance. Much of the humour is derived not only from the libretto and the physical comedy, but from the close relationship between text and music. In the opening scene, Falstaff pontificates with a set of questions, the answer to which is always ‘no’. Every negative response is accompanied by a note from the orchestra, which repeated, becomes increasingly amusing. When Ford, disguised as a man named Fontana, tempts Falstaff to seduce Alice Ford, the strings play a fine vibrato to accentuate Ford’s wallet waving in front of the money-hungry Falstaff.
Rodion Girolami, was perfectly cast as the larger than life, bon vivant whose ego is as large as his girth. Girolami’s rich baritone was mellifluous at points and used to comedic effect when the higher registers were employed to imitate Alice. He imagines her saying, ‘I belong to Sir John’ which as the audience knows is a case of Falstaff’s self-delusion. Girolami has a gift for physical comedy from his facial expressions to his use of the body. At the end of the opening scene, he descends the stairs ready to seduce Alice Ford, dressed in a most unflattering safari suit, white socks and sandals. He proceeds to mince across the stage to hilarious effect. When the four women take their revenge in the second act, Falstaff is ejected from the laundry basket, tumbles out onto the window ledge where he teeters comically before falling out of sight into the Thames. As the orchestra plays its last notes to end the scene, a large wave splashes up through the open window.
Another performer with wonderful comic timing, paired with the ability to speak volumes with a small gesture, was Valentina Pernozzoli, who played Mistress Quickly. A contralto with excellent mastery of the lower register, the combination of her vocal skills with her comedic talents rendered the scenes that she shared with Falstaff by far the funniest of the production, as the two singers had a captivating energy.
Mariam Battistelli played Nannetta and perfectly captured her youthful enthusiasm for life, love, and mischief in the first act when she bounced onto the stage sporting a pair of shorts. By the final act, she struck an ethereal presence in a long white dress, playing the Queen of the Night. Her crystal clear soprano was overflowing with emotion when she sang ‘sul fil d’un soffio esteso’. It was the emotional high point of the production. She received a most enthusiastic applause from the audience.
Rodion Pogossov as Ford was another strong presence. He dominated Act one, scene two with his rousing baritone, which was plaintive at times and then equally expressive in outrage when he realised that Falstaff was determined to seduce his wife. Alice Ford was played by Anna Princeva, making her Glyndebourne debut. She has a clear, bright, and pleasing voice and was convincing as the independently minded Alice who is more than a match for Falstaff’s lasciviousness and her husband’s attempts to marry their daughter off to the elderly Dr Caius (Gregory Bonfatti). The scene where Alice caresses Falstaff’s antlers was very funny. The combined power of Alice, Nannetta, Mistress Quickly, and Meg Page (Stephanie Lauricella) is a refreshing antidote to the dated attitudes to women displayed by many of the men in the story.
The ensemble work was strong throughout and never more so than in the finale, an uplifting fugue for ten voices. This joyful declaration that tutto mel mondo è burla – all in the world is a jest/ but he laughs well who has the final laugh – left the audience laughing. The entire cast was on stage and were handed pint glasses which they downed – the props department did an excellent job here – in perfect timing with the last notes of the score. The conductor was in on the joke, and was also handed a glass from which she drank her fill during the brief orchestral pause– and then the last notes were played. All great fun.
Whenever Ultz designs a production, we know that the sets and costumes are going to be something special. The stage curtain was a huge needlepoint wallhanging with a picture of Windsor Castle overlooking the town and lake. Before the performance began, three children dressed as scouts wielded huge needles and thread as if putting the finishing touches to the curtain. Each act had a memorable set filled with period details. The second scene of Act 1 took place outside a mock-Tudor house, which was all the rage in suburban London. It had a tiered kitchen garden in which rows of mutant-sized lettuces and cabbages grew as part of Dig For Victory. The set was well used to accentuate the comic effect of characters appearing and disappearing from numerous garden doors, and supported the ensemble work during the nonet, with the quartet of women occupying one part of the scene while the five men gathered on another tier where they plotted their own revenge. To make this even funnier, a boating crew, dressed in white shorts and vests, repeatedly crossed through the rows of lettuce carrying huge oars and finally a boat. The cast were dressed in a mixture of army uniforms and 1940s dresses with matching hairdos.
The third act opens with yet another wonderful set, a row of period shops along the Thames from which Falstaff is dragged like a beached whale. He staggers up to the first floor, where the innkeepers take care of him. Cleverly, there is a huge window so the audience can see into the room, where a sodden Falstaff proceeds to strip down to his underpants. When he decries that he has grown too fat and grey, the audience, positioned now as voyeurs watching through the window, has an up-close and revealing look at Falstaff. He is rendered temporarily fragile and vulnerable during ‘va vecchio John’ with the strings playing along mournfully. When his requested mulled wine arrives, the string section perks up as Falstaff downs the glass, perfectly reflecting his sudden change of mood.
The final act in the Royal Park was, in contrast to the previous acts, performed on a bare stage, save for the wonderfully designed Herne’s Oak, which was almost a character in itself. Here, Fenton, played by the tenor Filipe Manu, gives a soulful rendition of ‘dal labbro il canto estasiato vola (from my lips, a song of ecstasy flies). Nannetta floats onto stage and they launch into a most beautiful duet that has no sooner begun than it is rudely interrupted by another character as if Verdi is poking fun at the very idea of a romantic duet.
The lighting (Mimi Jordan Sherin) in this final scene was particularly effective not only in spotlighting the lovers but in the ensuing mayhem of the masked revellers, a nightmarish crew who flood the stage to torment Falstaff.
While the sets were excellent throughout, the lengthy scene changes were somewhat disruptive. Some of the themes are likely to sit uncomfortably with contemporary audiences. Fat shaming is no longer considered to be an acceptable source of merriment. Watching the final scene of mob violence against a lone man is concerning, especially when children are encouraged to join in with the crowd and to prick, prod and physically hurt an unpopular member of the community. That said, Falstaff is a comical opera with wonderful music supporting and advancing the libretto. This production was beautifully sung, comedically acted, with vigorous support from the pit. As we exited the auditorium into a warm evening, the Glyndebourne gardens glowing in the evening sun, all felt right with the world.
Falstaff plays at Glyndebourne on selected dates until 24 August 2025.
Glyndebourne
Lewes,
East Sussex,
BN8 5UU
For more about productions currently running at Glyndebourne, check our review of The Marriage of Figaro and of Saul
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