In the first act, several sections feel dramatically slack, and a montage scene juggling multiple storylines at once is too busy. The second act is blessedly more compact, though it too could benefit from tightening. The plot also resorts to the operatic cliché of killing off the female lead. Baritone Jarrett Ott personifies Seward's descent from strict moralist to bloody murderer. He also underscores details in harmonies and dynamics and sounds particularly tender in his upper register. Dressing in androgynous costumes by Chrisi Karvonides-Dushenko, Anthony Roth Costanzo's Dionysus seduces men and women. He naturally shapes vocal phrases with his pure and ringing countertenor, and explores hushed high nuances. Tenor David Portillo expresses the alternately lucid and manic states of attorney Jonathan Harker, deftly handling wide leaps, hysteric pantings and sudden exclamations. As Van Helsing, Seward's loyal and sensible adviser, Matt Boehler wields a powerfully resonant bass. Soprano Kathryn Henry performs admirably as Lucy, Harker's wife, considering she is a late substitution for Susanna Phillips. But Henry's phrasing frequently moves note to note and her diction is sometimes unclear. Kevin Burdette dispatches the speaking role of a newspaper correspondent, who relays background information to the audience. Leah Brzyski, Rachel Blaustein and Megan Moore give feverish passion and ardent voice to the three attendants. Choral contributions, prepared by Susanne Sheston, are spiritedly rendered. In the July 21 performance, conductor Johannes Debus skillfully coordinated the singers and the orchestra, which was in exceptional form. James Darrah's direction vividly juxtaposes the Victorian characters against their mythical visitors. Evocative sets by Adam Rigg feature palatial rooms and looming streetlamps. Dead cattle hanging from hooks allude to the animals killed by followers of Dionysus in The Bacchae. Lighting by Pablo Santiago and projections by Adam Larsen ably facilitate scene changes. The main reasons to see Santa Fe's Marriage of Figaro, a timeless comedy of errors, are soprano Ying Fang as Susanna, the faithful servant, and mezzo Megan Marino as Cherubino, the infatuated pageboy. Fang puts all of her pliantly lyrical soprano to use, tossing off vocal runs with ease, ringing out high notes and lingering pleasantly between phrases for rhetorical emphasis. Outwitting the predatory count, she switches effortlessly between coquettish charm and steely reserve. With her attractively flexible timbre, and rich chest voice, Marino expresses Cherubino's ardor. Her "Voi che sapete" is simply delightful. Fang and Marino aren't helped by Laurent Pelly's new production.