Glyndebourne and Figaro: they go together like Christmas and mistletoe. Except, of course, that at Glyndebourne you hope for a lovely summer evening, which an indulgent memory insists that, in the ’60s, we always used to have. That vintage year of ’62 was the one which saw the return of Carl Ebert to produce not only this Figaro but also Glyndebourne’s first Pelléas (Poppea was to follow with its proud notice “First professional production in England”).

The young Silvio Varviso also made his Glyndebourne debut as conductor of Figaro. Count (Gabriel Bacquier) and Countess (Leyla Gencer) were other newcomers and Mirella Freni was singing Susanna for the first time anywhere. As heard here, everything takes its place with a delightful combination of freshness and assurance, and the audience clearly (and more audibly after the interval) responds appreciatively.

The recording seems to catch the stage action almost as well as if it were a DVD, though to my ears the women’s voices are apt to acquire that bright hard edge which is the accursed associate of digital remastering: still, not as badly as some. Even dear old Hugues Cuénod (106 this year and last heard of just married to his partner at 104) is endowed with a more prickly forte than I ever remember hearing in his voice live. At least the two baritones are unaffected, and their performances, both as pure singing and as “expression”, are delightful. Gencer’s vibrant, almost tragic tone distinguishes her Countess, and as (nearly) always at Glyndebourne the ensemble work is a model of stylish efficiency.