by Jeremy Reynolds
PITTSBURGH POST-GAZETTE
In ye olden times — say, 18th century Spain — your barber didn’t just cut your hair. He would also act as confidant, dentist, surgeon, bloodletter, your hair. He would also act as confidant, dentist, surgeon, bloodletter, apothecary, veterinarian and much more.
(Sounds safe, right?)
On Saturday at the Benedum Center, one of the most devious of fictional barbers, Figaro himself, plugged in a blender and mixed himself a margarita all while delivering a razor-sharp, winsome performance of the famous “Fiiii-gaaaa-rooooo!” aria, introducing himself to attendees in grand operatic style. A little salt on the rim — “laaaaa!” A splash of lime juice — “laaaaa!” All the while, the music scurries and bubbles with madcap cheeriness.
Figaro is, of course, the Barber of Seville, and a rather substance-abusive one at that, in the opera’s eponymous season-opening production, which runs through Oct. 22 at the Benedum.
How’d it go?
The plot
“Barber” is a tangled plot — the wealthy Count Almaviva is in love with the wily Rosina, but he disguises himself when he calls on her to ensure that she falls in love with his person rather than his purse. But alas, Rosina’s guardian, the pestiferous Dr. Bartolo, is also pursuing her and keeps her confined to the house.
Enter Figaro, the city’s barber and jack-of-all-trades, who concocts plan after plan to insert Almaviva into the household, camouflaged as a drunken soldier and then as a music teacher, to win Rosina’s hand.
Shenanigans ensue, set to music by Rossini that’s been burned into the public consciousness through its use in cartoons ranging from “Bugs Bunny” to “Tom & Jerry” and much more.
There’s a reason this opera has remained popular for more than 200 years. Rossini himself was something of a cartoon, the sort of Figaro-esque character who drank the leftover sacramental wine after communions and once quipped, “Give me a laundry list and I’ll set it to music!”
Listening to the rapid-fire Italian singing in “Barber,” an experience not unlike watching a movie with subtitles, is still mesmerizing. And sudden shifts in the music in style and volume catch the ear by surprise, casting the more ridiculous plot elements in an elegant, polished veneer.
The artists
In director Gregory Keller’s adaptation, that’s not talcum powder under Figaro’s nose, and characters are rarely without a drink in their hands. The entire opera takes place inside or just outside Bartolo’s stylish period villa.
As to the cast, the largest laurels must go to Figaro himself, sung by John Moore, who arrived in Pittsburgh on Thursday to take over the role when the original Figaro, John McCullough, had to back out for health reasons. Moore sent his rich baritone spinning round the hall, maneuvering through Rossini’s music with panache. Plus, his confidence and enthusiasm in every movement and wink to the audience cast the production in a warm glow of conspiracy.
(The audience is in on all the jokes, you see.)
Other standouts include Stephanie Doche as Rosina in a triumphant Pittsburgh Opera debut, and the returning South African singer Musa Ngqungwana as a more sympathetically aggravating than dastardly Doctor Bartolo. Some of his faster patter singing was a little aggressive in its attacks, suggesting more anger than passion in Mgqungwana’s typically silky bass.
Another debut, Lunga Eric Hallam, was less successful. His best moments were in duet with Moore’s Figaro and in more lyrical passages, but on Saturday his high register sounded fragile, and his presence was inconsistent. Perhaps this was opening night jitters.
Conductor Antony Walker maintained a brisk pace with the orchestra, and aside from some ghastly intonation in the strings at times, the orchestra proved itself a strong partner to Figaro’s antics, and this was one of the opera chorus’ stronger showings in recent seasons.
Close shave
The only sour note was the first-act finale, where a character mimes a drug overdose and receives an adrenaline shot, which seemed a bit tastelessly over-the-top given the wink-and-nod nature of the rest of the opera. (Later, Figaro rolling himself a blunt and baking himself felt more in line with the production’s tongue-in-cheek tone.)
Around the country, opera companies are reinventing themselves, programming partially staged productions and more contemporary works intended to speak to modern issues. Some are finding success. Some are not, and those companies are shuttering their doors altogether. Pittsburgh Opera’s balance of old and new and grand opera and more conceptual staging is a workable formula and holding steady. The company’s “Barber of Seville” is a traditional grand production with all the bells and whistles and a cracking reminder of the magic of the opera in all its finery, its glamour and its humor.
As Rossini himself said: “Eating, loving, singing, and digesting are, in truth, the four acts of the comic opera known as life, and they pass like bubbles of a bottle of champagne. Whoever lets them break without having enjoyed them is a complete fool.”