Imagine the Monty Python team making a foray into bel canto. Or perhaps a Carry On special set in an opera company with little budget but a ready source of Stetsons. Charles Court Opera’s home turf is the late-Victorian middlebrow silliness of Gilbert and Sullivan, but the company occasionally ventures into other comic opera. In this outing directed by CCO’s artistic director John Savournin, Rossini’s Barber of Seville heads to the wild west (cue saloon doors, bourbon bottles, cowboy hats for all) and revels in a new high-energy, rhyme-fuelled English text by music director David Eaton. “Having a tryst, sir? I can assist, sir”, Figaro advertises in his big Act 1 number. Almaviva’s disguised turn as Rosina’s stand-in singing teacher involves a straw hat and a lot of ribbon, his line in “Nature! Flowers” whimsy smacking of pure Fotherington-Tomas (“Hullo clouds, hullo sky”) from the 1950s Molesworth books.
It’s all terribly English. There’s a long tradition of English Barbers, of course – right back to a few months after the opera’s UK premiere in 1818, when it was reworked around hits from both Rossini’s and Paisiello’s operas (plus some new music by the tireless adapter Henry Bishop) for performance at Covent Garden. The leading lady apparently “accompanied herself at the piano forte with great taste”, but no review records whether the audience found it funny.
At Wilton’s, the verdict was audible. There were roars of laughter for playing drunk and colloquial insults, for semi-ironic dancing – free with every duet! – and many of the rhymes. On stage, the energy never flagged. Rossini’s opera is always pacy but this slimmed-down version bustled along relentlessly, its cast as hyperactive as a lineup of 1990s kids’ TV presenters. The quality of singing (usually tailored to the intimate space, often skidding over the coloratura details) seemed largely beside the point.
As the romantic leads, Joseph Doody and Samantha Price were sympathetic, though there was little room for emotion amid so much whirling panache. Hugo Herman-Wilson had power to burn as a skunk-toting, black nail varnish-wearing “Dan” Basilio and if Laurence Olivier had done panto, he might have approached Jonathan Eyers’ Figaro. One truly stellar musical performance took place offstage, however. David Eaton served up the entire score on piano, capturing as much of Rossini’s sparkle and wit as you could hope for with 10 fingers – and just occasionally finding moments to allow the music to breathe, unfurl and speak.
• At Wilton’s Music Hall, London, until 23 March.
