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NEW YORK — The Metropolitan Opera production of Rossini’s Il Barbiere di Siviglia — the seventh re-appearance of Bartlett Sher’s broad, colorful, and mostly successful 2006 staging — returned April 15 and proved a refreshing standout among the house’s revival premieres so far this season. It seemed fully rehearsed, musically cogent, and energized. Kudos must accrue to the debuting Abruzzese conductor Giacomo Sagripanti, only 43 yet an internationally seasoned veteran of bel canto and other Italian operatic repertoire. Sagripanti and his music associates — one of whom, assistant conductor Liora Maurer, played the pertinent, supportive harpsichord continuo — had the orchestra and quite accomplished cast ready to please right out of the gate.
Sher’s production can boast apt, attractive costumes (Catherine Zuber) and an ingeniously multipartite set by Michael Yeargan that allows for fluid transitions (and numerous gags involving props, large and small). The finest innovation — and something I’ve encountered only once before in bel canto stagings, in Pier Luigi Pizzi’s legendary production of Semiramide premiered at Aix (seen by me at San Francisco Opera) decades ago — a passerelle. This narrow gangway extending from one side of the stage to the other surrounds the orchestra pit and allows the star singers to address their vocal heroics straight out to the public.
At times, as when Count Almaviva in his extended 11 o’clock number “Cessa di più resistere” establishes Rosina’s liberation from her oppressive guardian Dr. Bartolo’s house and control, the augmented space also serves a clever plot function. And some of the set elements — oranges plucked off trees and the elaborate fangirl-drawn, rolling barbershop on which Figaro makes his renowned entrance — are amusingly deployed and reinforce the Andalusian local color.
But, as has been true from the start and remains as revived by Kathleen Smith Belcher, the blocking and character direction are just too manic and laden with distracting gags and flourishes, some of which go absolutely nowhere. So we get the usual provincial “acting funny” by choristers and extras and the poor housekeeper Berta (a fine debut by Pennsylvania soprano Kathleen O’Mara) saddled with endless sneezes.
Some things — like the civil guard mincingly trodding along to Rossini’s dance rhythms and the substitution of “Pavarotti” for Bartolo’s invocation of the castrato Caffarelli — are just witless shtick. Sher has a few very good gags up his sleeve, as does Beaumarchais’ underlying play. Editing out some of the others would make the show funnier.
Rossini’s opera is not an easy vehicle for a conductor’s initial bow (as some talented Met debutants have learned the hard way over the years), and, even with monitors, the passerelle can’t make coordination easier. But though certain patter sections flew by a little hurriedly for my taste, Sagripanti had the energy and control to deliver a well-structured and instrumentally stylish reading.
The work of two of his five leads — Lawrence Brownlee as Almaviva and Nicola Alaimo as Bartolo — proved similarly steeped in the appropriate style; the other three honored it less consistently when it came to decoration, dynamic precision, verbal point, and clarity.
As it happens, the two principal operatic versions of Count Almaviva — Mozart’s from 1786 and Rossini’s from his “prequel,” premiered 30 year later — are among the rare central repertory roles that surely anyone, even those pundits public and private that always locate singing’s Golden Age in their remote youth (or before), must grant are regularly better sung now than they were in theaters and on recordings 75 years ago. Brownlee, a vigorous 52, remains amazing in this role, which brought him to La Scala at 29 and a thrilling Met debut at 34. He enacts the Count with charm and humor but gives hints of the ingrained entitlement that will trouble Rosina a few years down the line. His singing is a model of projection, velocity, dynamic, breath control, and stylistic elegance; every note is in place and every word tells. “Cessa di più resistere” was stupendous. Hear it while you can: He’s retiring the part this year.
Alaimo is a past master of recitar cantando — the art of shading and shaping clear words onto a musical line. One could have taken dictation. Plus, his voice is better-oiled and better-timbred than many a traditional “buffo” singer. Somewhat resembling facially television’s great comic actor Richard Kind, he masterfully embodied Bartolo’s self-satisfaction and — as a contender for Rosina — self-deception. As with Brownlee, his is a performance to savor — and for younger singers to emulate.
Baritone Davide Luciano has done some outstanding Met work, including as Puccini’s Marcello and Schaunard. His confident, energetic Figaro won huge ovations. He certainly deserved them for his vivid and imaginative recitatives, but in the role’s cantabile portions I felt he too often — in contrast to Brownlee, notably in their Act One duet — departed from precise lines and note values, socking home high notes in Robert Merrill in-the-ballpark fashion. He gives a very good performance that a bit more stylistic discipline would improve.
A native New Yorker of partially Argentine descent, Isabel Leonard (Rosina) looks plausibly Spanish and is a telegenic, animated stage figure. That said, her characterization focuses largely on flirting with the audience (it paid off at curtain calls) rather than crafting a distinct individual. This was her 29th local Rosina since 2011, and she still seems only superficially invested in weighed verbal phrasing.
Leonard has been moving in other assignments here and elsewhere — Miranda in The Tempest, Maria in West Side Story, Ada in Jennifer Higdon’s Cold Mountain — so the direction may be at fault. Yet Joyce DiDonato and Elīna Garanča managed to make Sher’s Rosina touchingly real as well as spunky, and both evidenced surer Rossini style and greater accuracy, especially on top (Leonard’s chestnutty lower register is her strongest vocal suit). She surely wasn’t bad; but in an era bursting with lyric-coloratura mezzos, the role deserves better.
The Met’s bass roster was reinvigorated by the return (after six years) in March of Alexander Vinogradov as Ramfis in Aida. The highly musical and sonorous Muscovite wasn’t quite as resplendent as Basilio, but he’s a very skillful physical comedian who can color his tone; unlike many Slavic basses channeling some ancestral Chaliapin imitation, he sings in comprehensible Italian. The role of Berta introduced O’Mara to Los Angeles Opera in 2023, and here she sounded impressive taking the high line in the first-act finale and in the range of her somewhat over-elaborate decorations in the character’s rueful aria di sorbetto. O’Mara sounds like a useful addition to the roster. With less to do, Cuban Young Artist Eleomar Cuello (Fiorello) showed a firm, pleasant baritone.
The principal cast continues through May 8, with the able Patrick Carfizzi replacing Alaimo on April 30. From May 16 through June 5, only Sagripanti and Vinogradov remain, while Andrey Zhilikhovsky and Aigul Akhmetshina (in her third Met role after Rigoletto‘s Maddalena and last season’s popular Carmen) take on Figaro and Rosina, and rising star Jack Swanson and Peter Kálmán make company bows as Almaviva and Bartolo. That also-promising cast — somewhat less Italianate, but more youthful — appear in the Met’s May 31 HD broadcast. For tickets and information, go here.
