In the more than 200 years since its second performance, Rossini's Il barbiere di Siviglia (The Barber of Seville) has been one of the most popular of all operas. The first performance was a fiasco, which we'll get to later.
The Boston Lyric Opera's delightful new production is an excellent example of why it has been so popular since the second performance. With further performances this Wednesday, Friday and next Sunday at the Emerson Cutler Majestic Theatre in Boston, you can share in the delight.
Performed on a set resembling staircases drawn by Escher with turntables which rotate to give us the exterior and then the interior of Dr. Bartolo's house, where the action takes place, it is filled with hectic action as Figaro, the barber, helps the young lovers Count Almaviva and Rosina thwart her guardian's plans to marry her and keep her inheritance for himself. Figaro gets a lot of help from the lovers, who are nearly as quick-witted as he and even more determined to have each other. Their foils are the scheming Dr. Bartolo, whom Rosina calls a “vecchio maledeto” (a wicked old man) and Almaviva calls a foolish dotard, assisted by the oily Don Basilio, the music master who also serves as a marriage broker. Each of these, and even the maid Berto, gets the chance to show off virtuoso vocalism, and the stellar cast showed it very well, both in solos and in ensembles.
There is no greater introduction to a character than Figaro's “Largo al factotum” in which he lists all the services he is prepared to offer with his comb by day or his guitar by night. Baritone Matthew Worth was a fine figure of a Figaro in his toreador outfit. Inspired by Count Almaviva's gold, he conjures up schemes to insert the count into the household where Bartolo keeps a close eye on Rosina. Tenor Jesus Garcia was an ardent Almaviva, carrying off his disguises as a poor student named Lindoro, a drunken soldier seeking to be billeted in the house, and as a substitute for the music teacher with aplomb. Equally ardent was Rosina, mezzo-soprano Daniela Mack, who showed her determination that Lindoro should be hers even if she has to use a hundred little tricks in the famous aria “Una voce poco fa.” And when Figaro advises her to send a note to assure Lindoro of her interest in him, she hands him the letter she had already written. Figaro responds that she could teach him a thing or two; she could be a professor of cunning.
Back to the opening night 200 years ago: it was filled with stage mishaps, including a black cat that got onto the stage and tangled up with Rosina's costume. But the worst of it was the hostile reception by fans of a previous Barber, set by Giovanni Paisiello.
Baritone Steven Condy, reprising his role as Dr. Bartolo at BLO, gave him great comic bluster, especially complaining that a doctor of his standing shouldn't be fooled by the excuses given him by Rosina, in another of Rossini's tour-de-force arias. Another such is “La calunnia” in which Don Basilio recommends circulating rumors about Almaviva in order to drive this potential rival out of town. It's also an example of the famous “Rossini crescendo” which builds to an explosion as he describes results like an earthquake, a whirlwind or a cannon. Bass-baritone David Crawford was a ghoulish and highly comic Basilio, who even got his own special lighting as the stage turned green when he entered. And soprano Michelle Trainor was a desperate Berta, complaining about the chaos love creates, while also complaining about not having her share of it.
The visual elements of this production were as vital as the music. Within the arched proscenium at the Emerson Cutler Majestic the stylized white stairways were stunning, and some of the elements were set in dizzying motion to reflect the confusions of the finale of the first act. Colors are used in sharp contrast to the white of the stage elements, bright red for instruments played in the opening serenade and in the “music lesson” which doubles as a love scene. The costumes add their flavor, with the chorus in outfits that resemble Tenniel's illustrations for Alice in Wonderland. Almaviva is in variations of black and white, always with ballooning pantaloons. Rosina balloons even more in a pink dress which Daniela Mack uses to good effect in expressing her varying emotions. The sets were designed by Julia Noulin-Mérat, costumes by Ginaluca Falaschi and lighting by D.M. Wood. Stage director Rosetta Cucchi, a native of Pesaro, Italy, Rossini's home town, kept the stage filled with action and comic business, moved along by the cast at a perfect pace.
The real glory, however was Rossini's great music, sung by an outstanding cast.
Back to the opening night 200 years ago: it was filled with stage mishaps, including a black cat that got onto the stage and tangled up with Rosina's costume. But the worst of it was the hostile reception by fans of a previous Barber, set by Giovanni Paisiello. His had been a popular work for 30 years, and there were other works inspired by the Figaro plays of Pierre Beaumarchais. Rossini had tried not to step on the older composer's toes by calling his opera Almaviva, or the Unnecessary Precaution, giving it the current name after Paisiello's death.
No less a critic than Giuseppe Verdi called Barber “the finest opera buffa in existence.” Rossini himself concurred, naming it his favorite complete opera. Generations of children, NEPR's John Nowacki among them, have been introduced to its famous overture through the cartoon The Rabbit of Seville, starring Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd. There have been many other manifestations of the music in popular culture.