Opera review: Scottish Opera: The Barber of Seville, Theatre Royal, Glasgow

Scottish Opera’s refreshed production of The Barber of Seville’s goes for belly laughs – and gets them, writes Ken Walton

Scottish Opera: The Barber of Seville, Theatre Royal, Glasgow ****

“Is that the bandleader,” inquired the opera novice sitting behind me as Scottish Opera’s music director, Stuart Stratford, entered the orchestra pit. For those of us within earshot it was the first cheery moment of many in this fun-filled, all-action revival of Rossini’s The Barber of Seville. A refreshed production by Sir Thomas Allen goes all out for belly laughs.

And it gets them. For here is a cast fully immersed in the frivolous folly and foibles of their comedic characters; not just singers going through stylised motions, as opera sometimes witnesses, but a symbiosis of music and theatre coming straight from the gut. And it’s in English (Amanda Holden’s snappy translation), which favours well-timed gags, even if we miss out on the seamless sensuality of the original Italian.

Simone McIntosh (Rosina), Samuel Dale Johnson (Figaro) and Anthony Gregory (Count Almaviva) in The Barber of Seville (Picture: James Glossop)

Tuesday’s opening performance took time to settle, Almaviva’s and Figaro’s initial numbers cooled by hints of apprehension, instantly dispelled as the tight street scene (Simon Higlett’s lively designs) opened up to reveal a busy, bustling interior ripe for nonsensical action, intrigue, deception and deceit. Now it flew to its comic resolve with the inevitability of a Rossini crescendo.

Expect an exhilarating run. Samuel Dale Johnson’s roguish Figaro is the perfect foil to Anthony Gregory’s versatile, manipulative Almaviva. David Stout, as Bartolo, is a whizz with slapstick buffoonery and patter song, countered magnificently by John Molloy’s whimsically camp, boldly sung, Basilio. Even in the periphery, Inna Husieva emerges glowingly as Berta, while Ross Cumming as the Officer brings off one of the best operatic mime cameos (watch the eyes!) I’ve seen in ages.

Then there’s Rosina, a magnetically radiant, heartwarming coloratura performance by Simone McIntosh that ultimately steals the show. Apart from Bartolo’s stentorian fart, that is. How often do you hear one of these in opera?