The Barber of Seville, Wales Millennium Centre, theatre review: A great romp which kept the audience chuckling
Ralph Koltai’s abstract, swivelling walls reflect crazy costumes and giddy antics, highlighting Kelley Rourke’s unashamedly burlesque English translation
Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference.‘Figaro Forever’ is the rallying cry of Welsh National Opera’s new three-part season, devoted to Beaumarchais’ lovable, roguish fixer-factotum. But as Rossini’s eponymous barber - first off the blocks - his cheeky vigour is more ‘Carry On Figaro’ in director Sam Brown’s new production, with a score renowned for its whirlwind comedy bag of tricks, and which is played as an ebullient, affectionate farce.
The helter-skelter jokes are on pompous Bartolo (Andrew Shore), whose designs on his half-hussy, rebellious ward, Rosina (Claire Booth), are thwarted by Figaro’s wits in service of the smitten Count-cum-boy scout, Almaviva (Nicholas Lester and Nico Darmanin). In this excellent, well-matched cast, a blind Basilio (Richard Wiegold, complete with bespectacled guide dog), slatternly Berta (Rosie Hay) and an army of cross-dressing peasant women set the hilarity seal, with conductor James Southall offering sturdy and (mostly) well-timed support from the pit.
Sighing sentimentality this is not. But neither is Rossini and, comically exaggerating his bel canto, Brown pokes amiable fun at fustier reaches of operatic tradition. Ralph Koltai’s abstract, swivelling walls reflect crazy costumes and giddy antics, highlighting Kelley Rourke’s unashamedly burlesque English translation. It’s a great romp, and the audience laughed and laughed.
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments