Ultimately, the success or failure of a performance of Il barbiere di Siviglia (The Barber of Seville) is determined by whether or not it is funny. Rossini’s masterpiece, the one nineteenth-century comic opera to have held its place alongside the famous tragedies of the era, should have an audience in stitches. By that token, the opening night of the Sydney revival was a triumph. There were gales of laughter throughout thanks to the lively acting, with even the surtitle translators getting in to the spirit at times, as witness gems such as ‘Onto the macaroni your cheese has dropped’. It goes without saying that there was also much fine singing to enjoy in this well-worked revival of Elijah Moshinsky’s production.
Most of the action took place in Michael Yeargan’s beautifully constructed interior of Dr Bartolo’s house, but the opera began in the street outside, with a row of radically foreshortened, waist-high houses as backdrop. While the illusion of distance wasn’t entirely successful, the sight of a doll-sized model of Bartolo scuttling out of his house raised a laugh. The arrival of Count Almaviva on a bike wearing bow tie and boater hat cued the audience to expect an updated early twentieth-century setting, and this was confirmed by the hairstyles on the backcloth during Figaro’s famous opening number. Thereafter, most of the frolics took place inside Bartolo’s lavish mansion, whether in Rosina’s pink bedroom, Bartolo’s surgery, or the lavish reception rooms. The only brief change was for the Act II storm interlude, where pedestrians and cyclists battled against the wind with a backcloth hiding the rest of the set.
The opera stems from an era before the male voice became focussed on power rather than flexibility, so all the male singers were expected to display nifty passage-work. This is perhaps most famously expounded in Figaro’s opening aria ‘Largo al factotum’. From the very first notes, Paolo Bordogna gave us a Figaro filled with boundless energy and charm, the undoubted star of the show. He was utterly at home in the skin of the genial Barber, channelling something of the ebullient comedic energy of the great Buster Keaton. He mastered the rapid patter singing with aplomb, and had great ringing top notes to boot.
Also very much at home within the style was the versatile Warwick Fyfe, excellent as ever as Bartolo: he blustered convincingly, and was a rock-solid presence in the ensembles and in his solos. The relatively weak link in a high-calibre cast was Kenneth Tarver’s Almaviva. He had the right sort of light tenor voice for the part but a lack of volume led to him being swamped at one or two places in the quicker ensembles. His acting was also the least convincing of the main characters.