At the end of Glyndebourne Touring Opera's production of The Marriage of Figaro - a revival of Graham Vick's 2000 staging, directed here by Jacopo Spirei - there is an unforgettable image. After the Count's plea for forgiveness from the radiant Countess of Kate Royal, the hurtling bustle of the final chorus ends with Royal being laid on the ground and swaddled in a white sheet and flowers. It's a strange, pagan-looking ritual of virginal purity that also looks like a funerary rite. I have never been more sure that, far from a resolution to the drama, the events of Da Ponte's crazy day are doomed only to repeat themselves, at the cost of the Countess's sanity.

It's a typical insight from a production that sheds new light on the network of relationships that makes Figaro such compelling music theatre, a transparency embodied by Richard Hudson's diaphanous sets, in which every hiding place can be observed by the audience, who are turned into prurient voyeurs. The fourth act is a masterstroke: the dangerous liaisons in the nocturnal garden are played out in full, bright light, with the singers wandering around as if in the dark.

At the centre of the production is Anna Maria Panzarella's canny Susanna. Her fourth act aria is the highlight of her performance. But it's Royal, as the Countess, who gives the outstanding performance of the production. She turns her second act aria into a fragile lament for lost love, and the tenderness of her flirtation with Amy Freston's Cherubino is achingly moving. Jeremy Carpenter's Count is underpowered by comparison, but the other parts are well served, including a hilariously self-important Bartolo from Lynton Black. In the pit, Thomas Rösner conducts the Glyndebourne on Tour orchestra with period-instrument affectations, but even if some of his speeds are eccentrically swift, this is still a well-paced, fizzing performance.

· In rep until October 27. Box office: 01273 813813. Then touring.