How to make a little go a long way

Opera - Opera
November 2004
Clive O'Connell [reviewer]

The most noticeable aspect of Melbourne City Opera's latest production is how much better it fared than the company's previous effort...

While you could pick holes in the mounting and progress of the comic opera, there were far fewer grounds for complaint as far as an overall theatrical experience was concerned.

In terms of finding a cast to handle the light virtuosic vocal flights that distinguish Rossini's most popular opera, the company succeeded fairly well.

Marco Cinque reached all the notes as Almaviva even if he maintained a rather stolid production mode when faced with moments like those rapid scales in the second half of the Count's opening serenade. Cinque has worked hard for MCO in recent years, taking his roles on with gravity enough, but you would have welcomed something a bit less staid in his Almaviva; it is hard to recall another interpreter of the role who seemed so stressed and tense. Even in his tender moments with Elena Polevaya's Rosina, Cinque seemed to be on edge, conscientiously counting the bars until his next entry.

In this respct. Polevaya also showed the difficulties of her role's vocal content without demonstrating the gaiety and sophisticated girlishness that characterises Rosina during her solitary aria. As seen on one other occasion with the company, this singer has a tendency to beat time with her hands when she is operating under the spotlight. Still. she was accurate to a fault in her pitch and she generated a vehemently resonant sound in the top notes.

Ian Cousins presented a Con-the-Fruiterer version of Figaro, with an open-necked red shirt and an elegant moustache, thankfully showing the first sign in the night that this opera is a comedy through his Largo al factotum entrance, handled with clear enjoyment and consideration for the text.

Cousins tended to take a back-seat in the latter part of Act I, notably in the nonsensical shaving segment which can become slapstick with a little effort. But you looked forward to his appearances chiefly as a relief from the dead seriousness that typified the young lovers he was helping. As well, this baritone has the gift of carrying out his vocal demands without screwing himself up to the act; his address is easy and the product very easy to like.

Taking the audience prize, Gary Rowley gave an excellently sung Basilio, ponderous when necessary but generally as rapid-fire in the recitatives as Rossini would have liked. Holding the vocal equipment with most carrying power among the principal men, Rowley gave an unusual account of La Calunnia, taking his time over the acceleration that brings this clever piece to its climax. Also. Rowley was either well directed by Jose Luis Lopez or brought his own brand of unctuousness to the role of the ludicrously venal cleric. Just the Uriah Heep movement of his hands and a false, semi-gloating smile was enough to cause laughter, especially among the younger members of this audience.

Ian Lowe sang a respectable Bartolo, buttoned up in a tight brown suit and projecting a parallel vocal color. As with Cinque and Polevaya, this character stayed one-dimensional, an emotionally constricted bureaucrat without any unexpected bursts of personality. Lowe's vocal contribution was quite adequate but there were few convincing signs of possible facets to Bartolo's character: his overblown self-importance, his vindictiveness towards Rosina, the eventual malleability he displays when faced with Figaro's trickery.

Martha George enjoyed Berta's one solo, starting out with the housekeeper drone's voice and changing to more colorful content in vocal terms as she took off her drab frock to show the vivid red outfit of a good-time girl underneath.

Marck Setford provided a pair of backdrops for the opera's inescapable quota of two sets, although placing a Venus de Milo torso at the centre of the opening scene was postulating an unusual amount of tolerancc from the city fathers of Seville, then or now.

Silvia Scodellaro recycled some military uniforms from previous productions for the chorus of police; Rosina's dress with its covering of gauze looked a fragile construction. As for the rest, the costumes excited little interest, the opera's suggested temporal framework seeming to be about 1960.

The MCO's rather ad-hoc orchestra had its moments, although the limited nunber of violins meant that any intonative errors came over with grinding candor. Erich Fackert generated plenty of enthusiasm in the big whirling climaxes and there were few points where someone in the pit jumped the gun or where the fabric proved threadbare. For the life of me, I couldn't understand why Almaviva was positioned on the side of the stage furthest away from his guitar accompaniment; it was inevitable that the two would go their separate ways.

However, despite the thrown-together look of parts of the production, the principals and chorus gave of their best. If L6pez showed few signs of striking originality in his direction, you could nevertheless enjoy the work without the obstruction or interference of any visual tricks. On nights like this one, you might miss the slick production values and sparkling presentation of the national company but to its great credit Melbourne City Opera makes a little go a long way; in this Barbiere, with some telling successes.

— CLIVE O'CONNELL