A tale of sexual oppression, stolen keys, secret communiques and disguises

Rossini’s The Barber of Seville was first performed in London in 1818 and has been wildly popular ever since, as has this 1987 production by Jonathan Miller. Set in Seville, in the house of the physician Dr Bartolo and his ward Rosina, the action centres around Figaro, a barber, fixer, and amateur psychologist who is enlisted by dashing Count Almaviva to help him woo Rosina, who is kept under lock and key by her guardian Bartolo who intends marrying her himself. It is a tale of sexual oppression, stolen keys, secret communiques and disguises. It has much in common with another perennially popular theatrical production, The Mousetrap – still playing a stone’s throw from the Coliseum – in the stereotyped characters and extravagant exaggeration of farce. In short, the plot holds no mysteries, and the enjoyment is all in the form.

The comic opera, its roots in commedia del arte, often centers on the struggles of young lovers whose whose union is hindered by one or several elders, often a jealous guardian. Here, the stock character, the harlequin, a chameleon who excels in the art of the impromptu solution, is represented by Figaro. Pantomime, a descendant of the form, isn’t far from Miller’s mind in this production, particularly in the slapstick of the brilliantly done music lesson; shaving foam, pratfalls and offstage crash, bang and wallop sounds. Nothing missing but a dame. But perhaps Lesley Garret, who sings Berta the housekeeper 25 years after singing Rosina in this same production, deserves that title?

The translation by Amanda Holden and Anthony Holden ensures that the recitative (comic opera’s rhythmically free vocal style) produces panto-style laughs leading into the arias. The translation has enough contemporary relevance to ensure all the jokes work as hard as they can, but the singers sometimes find it tricky to fit all the words into the music, especially in the superfast patter songs. This is probably easier to achieve in Rossini’s Italian but is left in the dust by Lafayette’s ‘Guns and Ships’ rap in the musical Hamilton.

Thankfully, collatura singers are the elite athletes of opera, trained in the agile runs, leaps and trills of the arias. Here conductor Roderick Cox cracks an elegant whip for Charles Rice (Figaro the Barber), Innocent Masku (Count Almaviva, Rosina’s lover), Simon Bailey (Dr Bartolo), Alistair Miles as Basilio and, making an authoritative debut as Rosina, Anna Devin, all of whom are excellent exponents of this Olympic sport, doing a great job of taking your breath away in case you’ve briefly nodded off.

Tanya Macallin’s set design cleverly allows for all necessary escapes, concealments and noises off, permitting street and interior action to unfold simultaneously. Figaro is able to ‘conceal’ himself in a glass fronted shelving unit, and leaves to blow in through the window in a lightning storm rendered with beautiful economy. Less seamless are the chorus of masquerading musicians, watchmen and soldiers, awkwardly integrated in this tight space and indeed into the dramatic action and who sometimes sound muffled. They effect a stylised choregraphy which is slightly distracting. The costumes and hair are stunning, especially those for Count Almaviva which recall John Galliano couture menswear.

But, as the ensemble sing in the final scene, ‘I love a happy ending, our plans have all succeeded’. Which sums it all up.

Review by Zita