Libretto by Cesare Sterbini, based on the play by Pierre Beaumarchais

Conducted by Stuart Stratford

Directed by Sir Thomas Allen

Translation by Amanda Holden

Tickets from £23.00

Clean-shaven, refreshed, and with a splash of scent and a cheeky grin, Scottish Opera’s triumphant re-staging of The Barber of Seville arrives in Edinburgh after a successful opening in Glasgow. It’s been sixteen years since Sir Thomas Allen’s first staging of their jaunty take of Gioachino Rossini’s opera, but it’s still as sharp as the razor it wields. It maintains its period firmness but funnels the pantomime tomfoolery to new heights which continue to offer additional dimensions of freshness for audiences.

In a tale of money love, deception, and chaos, Figaro, the barber of Seville, turns into a matchmaker when he comes to the aid of Count Almaviva, disguising the rogue as he attempts to win the heart of Rosina (a wonderful Scottish Opera Debut performer Simone McIntosh) from the grubby mitts of her aged guardian, Doctor Bartolo. But that sounds too straightforward, doesn’t it? How about disguising Count Almaviva as a soldier or other profession? There’s one thing which can be said about Sir Thomas Allen’s production – it’s an opera unlike many will have experienced.

Adapted time and again, with endless room for playful manipulations of setting and style (including the sensational Rabbit of Seville), Rossini’s brilliance lies in the twist in expectation with Cesare Sterbini’s libretto: jovial though intense. This production revives the popular 2007 re-imaging by Sir Thomas Allen – packed with humour, one-liners, nudges and winks, and enough in-jabs to keep the entire theatre on their toes. Expect an exhilarating sprint of comedy and farce throughout the evening, with the near three-hour runtime passing like a breeze in the night, or a gentleman calling at that red-lit rooms up above…

Time is necessary for the projection and orchestra to find harmony; indeed, it arrives closer to the second act before every lyric is projected over the Orchestra of Scottish Opera below the action. Some smaller numbers (and voices) occasionally become lost – but fear not, the opening act still bustles with ripe action, humour, and a soupcon of deceit thanks to Anthony Gregory’s manipulative but glorious Almaviva, while John Milloy’s delightfully conniving and only somewhat panto-camp, Basilio carries a deliciously bold voice which plunges us into the lower notes – a delightful shake-up from those around him.

The motivations for this barber to become a matchmaker are more than a happy ending, as Samuel Dale Johnson’s Figaro’s eyes flash at the sign of cash. Clearly performing with terrific enjoyment, Dale Johnson carries the glee into the performance, a unique one for the larger-than-life character and utilising Rossini’s inventive vocal score – shifting into almost rhythmic spoken word which adds nuance to the character development. They maintain a tradition of ensuring each Figaro has a stamp of ‘them’ within the hole, and if the noir cowboy aesthetic wasn’t enough, their snarkier, sometimes even whispered delivery certainly demonstrates this.

The significant success is how immersive and accessible the cast ensures this production, both for dab-hands and anxious first-timers as they plunge themselves into the frivolity and foibles of their farcical and comedic roles; not solely as singers cycling through the arias and orchestrated motions. Opera is very often a spectator art, but here, the synergy of theatre and live music comes together to draw the audience closer than ever before. It’s spotted in McIntosh’s vivaciously momentum-infused role, utilising the entirety of the set design, or Ross Cumming’s marvellously expressive Police Officer, and the almost languid shrieks and wails (though beautiful in pitch and control) from Ukrainian soprano Inna Husieva as Berta.

The transition from the seamlessness of Italian into English (Amanda Holden’s translation) does take some adjustment, though what it loses in the sensualism of the original language, it benefits from a localised humour and quicker punchline for English-understanding audiences. A prize of the production’s stage comedy, David Stout’s effortless demonstrates this Doctor Bartolo who fluidly flops between foppish foe into his trademark versatility with his baritone, making the role leap off the stage with some stellar costume design, dressed his finest as the once proud home crumbles around him, Simon Highett’s hugely impressive set design turning the Festival Theatre stage into a Spanish street, complete with cafés, antique brokers, and a few red light buildings courtesy of Mark Jonathan.

And while issues with the projection and annunciation emerge to begin, Stuart Stratford’s orchestra is on top form (unsurprisingly) and maintains a strong core through even the more pace-driven solos and serves to enhance the theatricality of it all. This is a comedic opera at its most inclusive and appealing with remarkable, almost brush-stroke colours and extravagance and as much a laugh-a-minute as it is the top quality many expect from Scottish Opera. Another winner, another commendable show, one especially recommended who still have a false view of opera’s stuffy nature.