The Marriage of Figaro/English Touring Opera, Hackney Empire, London<br></br> Daphne/WDR Symphony Orchestra, Philharmonie, Cologne<br></br> Dawn Upshaw, Barbican Hall, London

Not against colour - with colour

Compared with America, Britain lags behind in casting black singers. Exotic baddies we can do, but what of the romantic heroes and heroines? What of the comedians and comediennes? What of the mothers and fathers? Cue English Touring Opera, whose new production of The Marriage of Figaro has grasped the nettle of casting with - as opposed to against - colour.

First things first: this is not one of those Polyanna's melting-pot productions where the audience is tacitly lectured in the irrelevance of race in opera. (A view that few black singers share unreservedly.) ETO's Marriage of Figaro has a black Figaro (Rodney Clarke), a black Susanna (Donna Bateman), a black Marcellina (Hyacinth Nicholls), and a black Dr Bartolo (Keel Watson). It's a logical, family affair - though their employers are, of course, white. If the company plays safe - and pretty - by setting Figaro in 18th-century Colonial Cuba, the casting underlines Beaumarchais's revolutionary message. How well the comic archetypes will transfer to Malvern or Perth is anyone's guess but Nicholls's hectoring Trinidadian matriarch went down a storm in Hackney. When Bateman strikes Clarke in Act III, the two girls seated in front of me almost cheered, though the fact that this was the first physical contact between Susanna and Figaro made me question Paul Miller's direction. Maybe he didn't want to interfere? Clarke has a presence that can command a scene with absolute ease, while Bateman is a natural Susanna. Only in Miller's direction of Andrew Rupp (Count), Julie Unwin (Countess), and Catrin Johnsson (Cherubino) does his hands-off approach seem less like minimalism than laziness, but each singer is subtle enough to compensate. With Ian Page's consummately detailed, sympathetic and stylish conducting in the pit, ETO's 25th anniversary has got off to a winning start.

To Cologne next, for the first of two concert performances of Daphne by Semyon Bychkov, the WDR Symphony Orchestra and Renée Fleming: a transcendent account of this feverish work. Bychkov's gift is to make utter sense of this mad profusion of melodies: the slithering, fecund figures for woodwind and strings, the shifting light of an Arcadia deluged by storms, the sudden drops in temperature and the 12 climactic minutes that make it worthwhile sitting with Strauss for the hour or so that it takes him to get there. A calm, focused presence, Bychkov draws the finest sounds from an orchestra that has been his for seven years now: an orchestra sublime enough to match the acoustics of the Philharmonie, and beautifully led by Elise Batnes. As Daphne, Fleming soared, well-supported by a cast that included Eike Wilm Schulte, Anna Larson, Johan Botha and the marvellous Kwangchul Youn. Lucky, lucky Cologne.

Another city. Another diva. No Gay Friends. Pardon? Lest you think this refers to the private life of Dawn Upshaw, whose recital with veteran accompanist Gilbert Kalish took place last weekend, I should clarify. No Gay Friends is the term coined by Dr Repertoire of www.parterre.com for divas whose dresses are "less than divaesque". So it's tailor-made for the eccentric tabard-surplice-surgical-scrubs creation that Upshaw wore for her Barbican appearance. Tch! Does the Barbican look like a Baptist Ministry? What would Dr Repertoire say?

Parterre's central tenet is that singers should look - and be - as fabulous as they sound. (A rule illustrated on the website by before and after pictures of Fleming, herself a late convert to red-carpet glamour.) It's waspish. It's entertaining. But does presentation matter? Not in every case. Vocally and interpretively Upshaw is up there with the best: a modern-day Elly Ameling, whose simplicity of manner is antithetical to divadom. Music and words are her priority and for one unpretentious alternative to the dazzling voluptueuses we should be grateful. When I consider Upshaw's recital it's not her costume that matters. It's her lissom, fluting Schubert. Her rapt reading of Copland's Emily Dickinson settings. Her committed impersonation of John Harbison's Mirabai Songs. The succulent perfection of her pianissimi in Bartok's Hungarian Folksongs and the way in which her fresh, bright, eager voice has aged not a day since her first recording. Why gild a lily?

'English Touring Opera': Buxton Opera House, (0845 1272190), from 25 March, touring to 2 June

a.picard@independent.co.uk