From the Nashville Opera
The Barber of Seville: What a Night for a Haircut
The Barber of Seville by Gioachino Rossini is the quintessential opera buffa. Even if you’ve never heard of the opera, you’ve probably heard snippets of “Figaro, Figaro, Figaro,” from the aria “Largo al factotum”, sung by the opera’s title role, Figaro. There are times when, as a snooty musician, I come away from a performance, especially one as well-known and beloved as this one, disappointed or frustrated with some aspect of the performance’s interpretation. I have no such complaints about Nashville Opera after Saturday night’s performance. The orchestra was, as usual, phenomenal, the chorus small but mighty, and the cast a delight.
Before the performance, I had heard that The Barber of Seville would be set in the 80’s, in all its gaudy glory. Let me assure you that any qualms I may have had were quickly assuaged. Rather than distracting the audience, the set and costumes enhanced the performance. The attention to detail, the strange allusion to chickens throughout the set that had many of us scratching our heads over, was a delight. Barry Steele, scenic and lighting design, did a fantastic job. The set colors were bright, but never so bright as to be ugly; the patterns were large, but never so large as to be distracting. The costumes complemented the sets perfectly. The maid, Berta, played by Elizabeth Fisher, wore an ensemble that matched the set’s wallpaper during the second act. Count Almaviva, played by David Walton, had at least four costumes. He dressed as a soldier and a hippy (long hair included), among other things.
As for the cast, there is so much that could be said for each member. Apart, the cast’s voices and acting were impressive; together, they cast a spell over the audience. One of the highlights of the evening for me was seeing an older gentleman in front of me, who looked rather serious before the beginning of the performance, guffawing and smiling by the end. I think that’s part of why musicians do it, isn’t it? To garner some type of emotion from the audience. To move them in some way. With this cast’s synergy–as well as general silliness–opera became something accessible to audience members from all walks of life.
Count Almaviva not only changes costumes, but his entire personality to trick Dr. Bartolo, played by Dale Travis, into letting him near the beautiful Rosina (Emily Fons). Appearing in the guise of a “new-age music teacher”, striped bell-bottoms, long flowing hair, sunglasses, and sitar included, he changes his tambre to fit that of the classic hippy. Rather than the agile voice he naturally possesses (which you need to sing Rossini well), Count Almaviva must maintain a raspy surfer-dude voice to trick Dr. Bartolo into believing he is Rosina’s substitute music teacher. A wonderful choice, especially in contrast with his natural talent as both a singer and guitarist, which he artfully displays while serenading Rosina.
One of the most amusing parts for me was watching Rosina instruct Dr. Bartolo on the finer points of vocal pedagogy during her lesson. There must be something slightly meta about watching opera singers act out a voice lesson on stage. Seeing Rosina and Dr. Bartolo pantomime deep breathing and placement was surreal. Especially given that Dale Travis (Dr. Bartolo) had to pretend to be unable to hold a tune.
The “music lesson” was cut short when Count Almaviva’s plan was unveiled by Basilio, the real music teacher, played by Andrew Potter. Potter embodies the role of skeevy music teacher. His body language and cackles had me in fits of laughter. I only wish he had more time on stage. His robust voice projected in the Jackson Theatre with such rich undercurrents that I can readily believe he is to play Daland in The Flying Dutchman.
Some people don’t have to say a word to communicate a thousand and Brian Russell (Ambrosius) is one of them. A master of body language, his every gesture was laced with the physical humor of commedia dell’arte.
Another humorous character, the opera’s namesake, Figaro, was played by the charismatic Michael Adams, who appeared in a royal blue velvet coat. He quickly lined the pockets of said coat with Count Almaviva’s money, promising to help him win over Rosina. He was the perfect wing man and true to his name, shaves Dr. Bartolo with real shaving cream on stage. I wonder how much Adams and Travis enjoyed rehearsing that scene for the first time?
I was immediately impressed with Emily Fon’s rendition of Rosina. Her chest voice was strong, and so were her high notes. Rossini is difficult to sing because of its runs and breath support, but Emily made it look easy. Rosina’s aria “Una voce poco fa” in Act I is a feat of agility with runs enough to take even a trained singer’s breath away.
It is enough to say that I felt the opera smiling. And if, by chance, Nashville Opera’s production of The Barber of Seville was an audience member’s first opera, I have no doubt they’ll come back hungry for more next season.
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Sarah Queener is a soprano currently based in Middle Tennessee. Her interest in music began at a young age, starting with taking piano lessons. She later transferred her musical interests to pursuing voice and earned her bachelor’s in Vocal Performance. She currently resides in the Murfreesboro area and is a second-year vocal performance master’s student at Middle Tennessee State University.
