(Photo: Luca Del Pia)

With its wonderful arias, sparkling ensembles and a score that pops and fizzes underpinned by its easy-to-follow, fast-moving narrative, full of energy and comedy, fronted by Figaro, a character known to many people that have never even set foot in an opera house, “Il Barbiere di Siviglia” still has the pulling power it did over 200 years ago, when it premiered at Rome’s Teatro Argentina in 1816. Any opera company opting to include a production in its performance schedule is almost guaranteed box office success. Whether it will be deemed a theatrical success, however, is another matter. If the comedy misfires or the characters lack the necessary larger-than-life quality, or if the orchestra plays without the necessary energy and brio or the singers fail to bring the arias alive, then, such is its fame, audiences will not be slow to notice the fact.

The Haydn Foundation’s performance at Trento’s Teatro Sociale turned out to be a largely successful production, although with one or two weaknesses.

Cherstich Dispels Initial Doubts

The initial reaction to the staging, directed by Fabio Cherstich with scenography by Nicolas Bovey and costume designs by Arthur Arbesser, was not a particularly positive one; the stage was cluttered with an assortment of props and scenic devices that ranged from a giant megaphone and a metal staircase to a bright red, cardboard façade of a house, a large city sign of Siviglia, and a yellow rocking horse, among other things. It was difficult to discern any sort of theme, and there was no focal point. Amazingly, however, everything quickly started to fall into place. The jumbled array of items were not as random as they first appeared and were successfully absorbed into the drama, usually for the purpose of promoting the comedy, so that the initial negative impression quickly evaporated. Instead, what emerged was a colorful, bright and airy presentation that promoted the lightheartedness of the drama. In fact, a number of scenes were played with little or no scenery at all, in which Cherstich’s clear direction and the singers’ strong characterizations carried the work’s liveliness and comedic brilliance.

Whether the stage was darkly or brightly lit, it was awash with color thanks to Arbesser’s eclectic mix of Spanish, Spanish-inspired and non-Spanish costumes: Figaro was dressed as a toreador; Count Almaviva was presented as an 18th century aristocrat with a yellow and white striped costume and white wig; Bartolo was dressed in a mid-20th century, double-breasted, brown suit; Basilio was clothed in the traditional robes of a prelate, with a red face and hands to suggest the devil; the chorus of Spanish soldiers sported pink and black uniforms; and Rosina was attired in a teenager’s red and pink dress from the late 19th century. Not only did the imaginative and colorful designs capture the attention of the audience, but they were also amusing, aesthetically pleasing, and helped define the characters in bold terms.

Cherstich underpinned his reading by presenting it through the eyes of Rosina, who is portrayed as a naïve, emotionally immature teenager, and it worked spectacularly well as it allowed the other characters to be developed as types seen through her inexperienced eyes, rather than individuals. Rosina, in line with many teenagers, was petulant and did not like it if she was frustrated in her desires. Shortly after her initial entrance, she scootered around the stage on a bright yellow rocking horse, indicating her childlike nature, and was often treated as a child, as, for example, when she was placed on a naughty chair with a dunce’s cap on her head. In her eyes, Almaviva is a hero; Basilio is the devil; Figaro is a superstar who actually made his entrance with his name emblazoned in lights across the back of the stage; the soldiers are more akin to toy soldiers; and so on. It was a reading that allowed the comedy to grow naturally from the way the characters were seen by Rosina.

Each scene was carefully crafted so that no chance for amusing the audience was missed, although it tended to be light comedy rather than outrageously funny and relied on the singers’ posturing and gestures rather than slapstick; the audience responded positively, laughing along to the onstage antics, but there were few examples of incidents that provoked uncontrolled laughter.

Overall, Cherstich’s presentation can be judged as a success. True, there have been many productions that have been far funnier, but his cleverly crafted reading and its light approach were very enjoyable. It was engaging, charming and amusing throughout.

Conservative Musical Direction & Sterling Showcases

On the musical side, however, things were a little more inconsistent. Under the musical direction of Alessandro Bonato, the Orchestra Haydn di Bolzano e Trento produced a workmanlike performance, rather than one with the effervescent sparkle and dash that could immediately grab the attention; the sound was too heavy and occasionally dampened the impact of the onstage drama.

All singers engaged successfully with their roles, producing convincing, and in some cases, impressive performances.

With her occasional petulant outbursts and dreamy romantic optimism, energetic movements and immature posturing, mezzo-soprano Mara Gaudenzi proved to be a very convincing teenage Rosina, which she underpinned with her natural theatricality. When on stage, she was never at rest but fully absorbed and engaged in whatever was happening, which made her interactions with the other characters lively and often amusing. Her singing was equally impressive. She possesses a secure, warm, colorful voice that moves with ease across the range and knows exactly how to use it for dramatic and comedic effect. Such is the popularity of her aria, “Una voce poco fa,” it is not an easy task for singers to make a distinctive impression, yet she managed to do so with a splendid rendition in which her subtle use of pauses, inflections and coloring gripped the attention. In ensembles, she was able to assert her character without dominating.

Although tenor Pietro Adaini produced an engaging and strongly defined portrait of Count Almaviva, it was nevertheless a little problematic. He possesses a voice with an attractive, sweet timbre, which he used with expressive sensitivity to promote characterization and capture the spirit and the melody of his arias. Recitatives were delivered with meaning and energy and crafted subtilely to meet the nature of the interaction. Unfortunately, he was noticeably inconsistent in his presentation. His opening canzone, “Ecco, ridente in cielo,” for example, was poorly sung; the voice was underpowered, insecure and sounded constricted. Yet, he immediately followed this with “Se il mio nome,” in which he sounded secure and confident and showed off his beautiful phrasing to good effect. During his lengthy sections of recitatives towards the end of Act two, the same pattern emerged with passages of delightful singing interspersed with sections in which his confidence seemed weaker and the voice tighter. There were no such concerns about his acting, in which he captured his character’s aristocratic nature, cushioned by light-hearted mockery.

For Figaro to convince, a singer with a strong presence is definitely required. He must be able to dominate scenes with his larger-than-life personality and animated vocal presentation. Baritone Gurgen Baveyan certainly made a decent effort; he sang with a pleasing degree of confidence and a sense of freedom, his acting was lively and animated, and with his green and pink toreador costume and black curly hair, he certainly looked the part. He was also supported by the staging, which deliberately promoted his character; in one amusing scene, he is accompanied on stage by a giant pair of scissors with the blades shaped like female legs in white neon lights. However, the overall impression was of a solid rather than strong performance, for he shared the stage with bigger personalities and failed to hit the heights that would have turned it into an excellent performance.

Bartolo was expertly characterized by baritone Fabio Capitanucci, who brilliantly captured his sense of self-importance and his suspicious manner. He possesses a resonant voice with an attractive tonal hue that he used imaginatively to imbue his singing with subtle and bold expressivity, notably so in the recitatives, which were lively and engagingly delivered. His acting was neatly attuned to the comic goings-on. Once again, the impression of the character was aided by Bovey’s sets, who had him raised high above the stage, asleep in a chair, so that to set foot onto its floor he had to descend via a mechanical lifting device, which he did with a pompous air while singing his aria “A dottore della mia sorte.”

Don Basilio was provided with a wonderfully distinctive presentation by Nicola Ulivieri, who portrayed him as the devil masquerading as a prelate. His terrifying demeanor, supported by his authoritative, resonant and expressive bass, which he deliberately played up to the full, allowed him to dominate everyone on stage. In the final scene, he successfully transformed himself into a milder version in tune with the work’s happy ending.

The maid, Berta, was given a strong reading by soprano Francesca Maionchi, who arrives on stage from out of a fridge. She was lively and confident throughout and made a good impression with her aria “Il vecchiotto cerca moglia,” which allowed her to show off her theatrical nature with a well-presented, slightly exaggerated rendition while getting drunk.

Bass-baritone Gianni Giuga made a good impression in the relatively small roles of Fiorello and the Police Officer.

Despite one or two weaknesses, it was a production that undoubtedly contained many fine moments. Cherstich’s imaginative direction kept the audience amused throughout, and, while Bonato may have, on occasions, been a little too conservative in his handling of the orchestra, there were plenty of fine performances from the singers. All in all, it made for a pleasant evening.