Lyric Opera 2019-2020 Issue 2 The Barber of Seville

Lyric Opera of Chicago | 29 be especially funny without the scampering, sparkling, gleefully goofy and yet always gorgeous music to go with it. This opera requires virtuoso singing from most of the cast, and for each of the principals there’s a wonderfully witty characterization by the endlessly resourceful, inventive Rossini. First on the scene in Act One is Almaviva, who serenades Rosina enchantingly. It’s a graceful, elegantly romantic moment, with music to match. For Almaviva, the whole opening scene is all about wanting to get into Bartolo’s house so he can woo Rosina in person. His disguise as a soldier gets him inside, and that’s where Rossini reveals Almaviva the comedian. Rossini’s clever use of repetition makes us laugh when the “soldier” says he’s entitled to be given lodging at Bartolo’s house. He’s got the paper to prove it, and as he repeats the words “Eccolo qua” (“Here it is”), singing higher and higher, poor Bartolo gets very rattled indeed. Almaviva is back at Bartolo’s at the start of Act Two, this time in another disguise: Don Basilio, Rosina’s music teacher, is apparently ill, and this is his substitute, “Don Alonso.” In contrast to the brazen drunken soldier, we hear something totally different in “Don Alonso”’s music; it’s mincing and dainty, light as dandelion fluff in a breeze. Many a tenor is apt to ham it up here, but all he really has to do is simply sing Rossini’s notes. That’s also true of baritones singing Figaro—there’s no need to exaggerate anything, since Rossini does it all for him. In Figaro’s famous entrance aria, he’s proclaiming his merits as a true jack of all trades. The fun comes with his patter-singing at the end: as he proclaims, “Ah, bravo, Figaro, fortunatissimo per verità” (“Ah, bravo Figaro, truly the most fortunate of men”), Rossini has him fly through the words at breakneck speed. It’s exhilarating, and the more fun the singer has with it, the funnier it can be. Later in that first scene, Figaro has his big duet with Almaviva, when they’re scheming to get Almaviva into Bartolo’s house. If the disguised count acts drunk, Figaro cleverly explains—in a halting, hiccup-like vocal line that mimics tipsiness—old Bartolo won't suspect he's trying to make off with Rosina. The opera’s second scene introduces the lovely Rosina with an aria that reveals exactly the kind of person she is—an Don Basilio (Kyle Ketelsen), in his aria “La calunnia,” explains to Dr. Bartolo (Alessandro Corbelli) everything he needs to know about slander. Lyric production, 2013/14 season. Dan Rest irrepressibly confident young woman, determined to get what she wants. With one little word she flips the comedic switch from sweet to fiercely sassy. After declaring that she’s gentle, respectful, obedient, and loving, there comes the exclamation “Ma…” (“But…”). Rosina then pauses before declaring—in cascades of extravagantly florid singing—that “if anyone touches me in my weak spot, I’ll be a viper and play a hundred tricks before I give in.” That “ma” gets repeated a page or two later in the aria, and both times it’s great fun to hear how the mezzo-soprano colors it to crack up her audience. There’s another great moment when Figaro, Almaviva, and Rosina come together in Act Three. Rosina has just heard from Almaviva that that the young man serenading her (who’d identified himself to her only as poor “Lindoro”) is actually the guy now standing in front of her. The two lovebirds are warbling ecstatically together, united in one flight after another of highly florid singing, but Figaro is there, too, itching to get them all out of Bartolo’s house before the old man arrives with the police! As Rosina and Almaviva’s music continues to soar, Figaro blurts little interjections in a desperate effort to get them to snap out of it. Their showy vocalism actually becomes funny, contrasting as it does with the frustrated, impatient Figaro. Bartolo’s big aria is loaded with the kind of pomposity that can’t help but make us laugh. His housekeeper, Berta, gets her aria as well. She’s been observing Bartolo through the whole opera and now gives us her opinion: it can only end badly when an old man is looking for a wife. “And yet,” she asks (as Cole Porter would do many years later), “what is this thing called love?” And, Berta adds, “Why does it makes everyone go crazy?” She finally resigns herself to becoming an old maid. Her delicious aria has a bouncy oom-pah beat to it, punctuated by high notes where, the more they sound like despairing wails, the funnier they are. A showpiece that shows us Rossini at his absolutely best, both musically and comedically, is Basilio’s aria midway through the first act. Here the wily music teacher is explaining to Bartolo how to spread malicious rumors (in this case, it’s Bartolo who wants to know how he could take down Almaviva). The aria Almaviva (Alek Shrader) is disguised as a drunken soldier, and Figaro (Nathan Gunn) attempts to control his antics. Lyric production, 2013/14 season. Dan Rest