Katherine Henly, Katherine Beck, Stefan Egerstrom, Matthew Anchel, Lunga Eric Hallam, and Takaoki Onishi Photo by Cory Weaver

While Minnesota Opera deserves heaps of credit, let's begin with the sublime material provided by composer Gioachino Rossini and librettist Cesare Sterbini. When The Barber of Seville premiered in Rome in 1816, the title was already known from the 1775 play on which it is based, one of three plays featuring the comical conniving character Figaro, by French playwright Pierre-Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais. Rossini's was the second operatic Barber of Seville to attain success. Giovanni Paisiello, a hugely prolific and popular composer in his day, turned one out in 1782. There had been numerous other versions as well, but today Rossini's is the one remembered, and it is hard to imagine any other surpassing its dizzying narrative, spirited score, and sheer, unadulterated giddiness. It is no wonder that it has been called the "opera buffa (comic opera) of all opera buffa."

Rosina is a beautiful young woman and the ward of Doctor Bartolo, who keeps Rosina confined to their home, supposedly for her protection, but in fact because he intends to marry her and collect her considerable dowry. The dashing Count Almaviva, a man of wealth and influence, sees Rosina on her balcony and falls instantly in love with her. He wishes to woo her but, fearful that she may respond merely to his wealth and position, he disguises himself as a poor student, calling himself Lindoro. Rosina responds favorably; now Almaviva has to figure out how to win her release from her captor.

This is where Figaro, the barber, comes in, presenting himself, unencumbered by modesty in the delightful "Largo al Factotum." He councils Almaviva to take on the disguise of a drunken soldier and barge in, claiming that he is to be quartered in Doctor Bartolo's home, which Almaviva does. Rosina's music tutor, Don Basilio, arrives for her lesson and shares information that further stirs things up, while the exasperated housekeeper, Berta, tries to maintain order. It all goes wildly off track, ending with one of the most gloriously wacky Act 1 finales in all of opera, as a room full of soldiers and all of the principals simultaneously go mad, expressed in song–an intricate, crisp, rapidly paced patter song that seems as impossible to pull off as Almaviva's courtship of Rosina, but pull it off they do.

Act II brings more shenanigans as Almaviva, after failing to succeed in the guise of a drunken soldier, returns to Bartolo's house in yet another disguise, posing as a substitute music tutor for Rosina's lesson, claiming that Don Basilio is ill. The music lesson sequence is another masterpiece of comic invention melded with beautiful melodies. This plot comes close to working until Don Basilio shows up, fit as a fiddle. After another round of mayhem (during which Figaro steals the key to Rosina's balcony), Berta has her own aria, decrying her state as an older woman in a world where older men want young women.

An interlude takes us back to the street, where a violent thunderstorm breaks out, stunningly staged with a confluence of lights, music and movement as ensemble members are propelled about the stage by their umbrellas, which fill out with wind like a ship's sails. Extraordinary work! Apparently, Rossini's purpose in including this scene was to show the passage of time before the final scene. With the purloined key in hand, Almaviva and Figaro steal into Rosina's chamber. Disguises are shed, identities revealed, the lovers are ecstatically joined, and Figaro immodestly boasts of his part in bringing the two together–all in another brilliant musical sequence sung in three parts. One last trick seals their fate and, this being nothing like the real world, it ends happily for all.

Christopher Franklin conducts the Minnesota Opera Orchestra, which sounds fantastic, performing Rossini's lively score with clarity and confidence, starting off with the lush overture. Hudson's stage direction is outstanding, conceiving all sorts of stage business that adds to the already high level of gaiety provided by the score and libretto, and staging the opera chorus (appropriately rousing, under Celeste Marie Johnson's choral direction) to ratchet the production's level of wit even higher.

The four principal roles of Figaro, Rosina, Count Almaviva, and Doctor Bartolo are double cast, so I can comment on those who appeared at the opening performance I attended. Takaoki Onishi, as Figaro, brings great showmanship to the role, leaning into every opportunity to unleash the humorous intent of the piece without becoming clownish, and singing with a strong, clear baritone. Though the machinations of the plot are built around a forbidden love involving other characters, Onishi never allows a doubt that Figaro is at the center.

Lunga Eric Hallam, as Count Almaviva, conveys the resilience and resourcefulness of a man whose only aim is to win his true love, expressing himself, whether in crude disguise or as an earnest lover, in a warm, lyrical tenor. Katherine Beck sings the role of Rosina, displaying the mix of ardor, confusion and mischief, the latter when she acts as an accomplice to the Count's gambits, with a lovely mezzo-soprano voice. Matthew Anchel, as Bartolo, is appropriately blustery and boorish, pulling out the comical possibilities of his character and employing a full, round-toned bass that expresses his self-importance.

Appearing in all performances, Matthew Anchel makes for a sly Don Basilio, with an impressive bass that reenforces his character's otherwise dubious stature. Katherine Berta is a delightful Berta, who especially soars in her Act II aria when her rich soprano takes center stage. Here she acquires a whiff of lustiness where before, her character was unflinchingly prim. Doug Scholz-Carlson neither speaks nor sings a word as the butler, Ambrogio, but his stooped body language and comic timing add immensely to the enjoyment of this production.

Those new costumes (by Matthew J. LeFebvre) and sets (by Allen Moyer) look terrific, bringing brightness, wit and whimsy to the production. Eric Watkins' lighting design is effective throughout, and extraordinary in the thunderstorm sequence.

I would be hard pressed to think of a serious message one might sift out of the three hours (including intermission) spent at the Ordway watching and listening to The Barber of Seville, unless it is that three hours spent laughing, being uplifted by glorious music beautifully played and sung, and viewing the inventive elements of stage craft that go into a production such as this are hours very well spent, and that opportunities to do just that are all too rare. If you are an opera fan, in particular one with a taste for comic operas, this is one you dare not miss. If you are not so sure how you feel about opera, this might just be the one that will win you over. Sure, it is artful, but moreover, it is first class entertainment that lets you leave your cares in the parking lot.

The Barber of Seville, presented by Minnesota Opera, runs through May 18, 2025, at Ordway Center for the Performing Arts, 345 Washington Street, Saint Paul MN. For tickets and information, please call 612-333-6699 or visit www.mnopera.org.

Music: Gioachino Rossini; Libretto: Cesare Sterbini, based on the play Le Barbier de Séville by Pierre-Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais; Principal Conductor: Christopher Franklin; Stage Director: Chuck Hudson; Assistant Stage Director: Margaret Jumonville; Scenic Design: Allen Moyer; Costume Design: Matthew J. LeFebvre; Lighting Design: Eric Watkins; Wig, Hair and Make-Up Design: Emma Gustafson; Intimacy Director: Doug Scholz-Carlson; Head of Music and Assistant Conductor: Mario Antonio Marra; Chorus Director: Celeste Marie Johnson; Répétiteur: Fumiyasu Kawase; Stage Manager: Luci Burdick.

Cast: Matthew Anchel *(Doctor Bartolo), Katherine Beck *(Rosina), Kaylie Bullock (Susanna), Stefan Egerstrom (Don Basilio), Lunga Eric Hallam *(Count Almaviva), Katherine Henley (Berta), Joel Mathias (Officer), John Mburu (Fiorello), Kara Morgan* (Rosina), Takaoki Onishi *(Figaro), Doug Scholz-Carlson (Ambrogio), David Walton *(Count Almaviva), Andrew Wilkowske * (Doctor Bartolo), David Wolfe* (Figaro). *alternating performances