“The Seattle Opera has done it again, in their wonderful and fun new production of The Barber of Seville (one of Rossini’s greatest comic works). Co-produced by Opera Queensland, Seattle Opera, and New Zealand Opera, all I really need to say about it is “WOW!” –British Theatre Guide
This co-production between Opera Queensland (Australia), Seattle Opera and New Zealand Opera began life in 2016 as a 200th birthday celebration of The Barber of Seville. It followed a similarly joyful collaboration between our companies on a 2014 production of Rossini’s Cinderella. Here in 2024, I’m delighted to say that since their Brisbane debuts, both productions have been well-travelled and warmly embraced by audiences in around the world and across Australasia. It is a delight to revisit our salute to Rossini’s comic genius at a time when the world is thirsty for what Barber offers in abundance: humanity, love, laughter and the possibility of a happy ending, all set to Rossini’s exhilarating music.
In this series of podcasts, Seattle Opera Dramaturg Jonathan Dean gives listeners a taste of nine different types of traditional opera. Opera buffa, the beloved old Italian tradition of opera comedy, is what you get by adding music to the even older Italian tradition of improvised (artisanal) comedy, commedia dell’arte. The fools and buffoons of commedia—the sassy wenches, befuddled old professors, suicidal young lovers, dirty old misers, hungry Harlequins, arrogant soldiers, zany servants, and all the rest—found new ways of entertaining us once they began singing gloriously. And with the opera orchestra functioning as a laugh track and adding jokes of its own, opera buffa continues to disarm us and charm us while putting a big grin on our faces. The Barber of Seville and The Elixir of Love are great examples of the genre.
From left: Daniel Sumegi (Don Basilio), Kevin Glavin (Dr. Bartolo), Marc Kenison (Ambrogio), Margaret Gawrysiak (Berta), Will Liverman (Figaro), Andrew Owens (Almaviva) and Sofia Fomina (Rosina). Jacob Lucas photo
"...A crazy bright hilarious production."- The Stranger
"Go, go, go to Seattle Opera’s production of Rossini’s The Barber of Seville!"- City Arts
"If Prince and Jim Morrison had a secret love child it would be John Moore playing Figaro in the opening night of Seattle Opera’s The Barber of Seville. He swings his long, curly, bad-boy rockstar hair around and preens. He brags about how everybody—guys and girls, young and old—wants him. He acts like he’s smarter than everyone else. But in the case of this opera, he actually is."- The Stranger
John Moore (Figaro). Philip Newton photo
"Musically it’s up there with (Seattle Opera's) best, with both singers and orchestra shining under maestro Giacomo Sagripanti; add to that the acting, the staging, the sets, costumes and lighting—they are marvelous."- City Arts
"Fomina displayed a stellar array of coloratura flights and high notes, along with plenty of charm; Liverman’s warm, agile baritone was enhanced by a suave and savvy stage presence." - The Seattle Times
"... Even if you think you don’t anything about opera, you do: You know this music." - The Stranger
Sofia Fomina (Rosina), Will Liverman (Figaro) and Andrew Owens (Almaviva). Philip Newton photo
"The main characters are all studies in perpetual motion, but it’s the servants Ambrogio (a non-singing role easily handled by Marc Kenison, aka Waxie Moon) and Berta (Margaret Gawrysiak) who almost steal the show, appearing in almost every scene dusting, sweeping and generally straightening up." - Seattle P.I.
"The action never stops. Flashing colored lights, doors and windows snapping open and slamming shut; singers leaping and bounding out of the wings and onto the stage, and streamers cascading downward in the grand finale."- The Seattle Times
Marc Kenison (Ambrogio) and Margaret Gawrysiak (Berta). Philip Newton photo
"The music is funny too: excruciatingly quick sixteenth notes sung at breakneck speed by solos, duets, trios, and ensembles, and maddeningly fiddled by the orchestra, then borrowed by artists ranging from Bugs Bunny in 'The Rabbit of Seville' to the Beatles when they are trying to cut off Ringo’s ring in 'Help!' This opera is also where that 'Figaro! Figaro! Figaro!' thing comes from that Spongebob, Tom and Jerry, more Bugs Bunny, and doubtless other cartoons and parodies use."- The Stranger
"Kevin Glavin (Dr. Bartolo) and Daniel Sumegi (Don Basilio) provided some of the finest singing of the evening." - Seattle P.I.
Daniel Sumegi (Don Basilio). Philip Newton photo
"Highlights include: dorky white-guy dancing; Seattle boy-lesque performer Waxie Moon (in the non-singing part of servant Ambrogio) in cumulus-cloud muttonchops, who is at one point suspended upside down from a chandelier ... the set as mash-up of Pee Wee’s Playhouse, Laugh-In, and a slow-motion bad dream of a disco ball; the force of nature that is Daniel Sumegi’s (Don Basilio) bass; red streamers." - The Stranger
"Guitarist Michael Partington, who appeared on the stage to accompany key arias, gave the performances both musical expertise and genuine period flavor." - The Seattle Times
Kevin Glavin (Dr. Bartolo). Philip Newton photo
"Jonathan Dean’s supertitles echo the sassy nature of the production and the whole experience is sheer delight." - City Arts
"Saturday’s Rosina, fine Spanish soprano Sabina Puértolas making her Seattle Opera debut, is vivacious and spunky, easily a girl to catch the eye of the ardent Count Almaviva, high tenor Matthew Grills. The two singers flirt while engaging with ease in vocal acrobatics, nailing their bel canto arias. (Though Perhaps Grills’ most memorable moment is when, disguised as a fake music master, he gives a hilarious performance as accompanist on the harpsichord.)." - City Arts
Sabina Puértolas (Rosina). Philip Newton photo
"Daniel Pelzig’s Spanish-accented choreography and Matthew Marshall’s imaginative lighting enhanced the look of the show. The chorus, prepared by John Keene, looked snappy, and appeared to be having a terrific time. And so, judging from the applause levels, did the audiences." - The Seattle Times
"That’s one reason this would be a great show for a first-time opera-goer to try. But actually, anyone who likes spectacle will be wowed by this co-production between Seattle Opera, Opera Queensland, and New Zealand Opera. (Thank you, Aiden Lang, for connecting Seattle Opera with Down Under.)" - The Stranger
Seattle Opera presents The Barber of Seville. Philip Newton photo
"The music is glorious, arguably the most familiar and accessible in the entire opera canon; the story is as silly – and outdated – as they come but in the midst of such merriment and energy, not to mention the beautiful voices, who cares?"
In this downloadable podcast stage director and Rossini specialist Lindy Hume discusses Rossini's beloved Barber of Seville with General Director Aidan Lang. Listen to Aidan, who’s British, and Lindy, who’s Australian, share their enthusiasm for this delightful and outrageous comedy, coming to Seattle October 2017 in a colorful new production from Lindy's home company, Opera Brisbane.
Photo of Lindy in rehearsal with Lawrence Brownlee by Genevieve Hathaway.
Emmy Ulmer, Seattle Opera’s titlist, reveals that there is much more to a supertitle—those helpful translated words that appear above the stage in every performance—than meets the eye. Emmy’s job is as much about presenting those words as it is about anticipating the rhythm and comic timing of their delivery, all while keeping out of the music’s way.
What does the titlist do?
I operate the titles that appear above the stage for all of Seattle Opera’s shows. I sit in the English Captions Booth at the back of the house, with a cued piano vocal score, so that I know who is singing what and when, and I have a computer program where I push “go” for each cue. (On average, there are 750 cues a night.) I also have a fader that projects the light onto the screen. I can make the words on the screen appear really quickly, or I can move the fader really slowly.
Why would you want the words to appear slowly?
In Lucia, for instance, in the end when we have the tenor’s beautiful aria and he’s dying, I made the words go slowly so that you wouldn’t bring your attention to the screen in a quick way, so that your attention moved with the singer.
You’re really influencing how we’re experiencing the opera. If the words flashed up there, we might be looking at them without
paying enough attention to the music.
Exactly. It can be distracting.
You must really have to know the operas. How do you prepare?
I study the operas. I get a copy of the score beforehand, even if it’s not the cued one, and I get recordings of the music. When we were doing Ariadne auf Naxos last spring with the Young Artists, I walked my daughter around Green Lake—she was in the
stroller—and I had my old-fashioned CD-man and I listened to certain sections again and again. I understand German, but it was a very funny opera in places, so there were timing issues. It was a challenging opera.
Is it even more challenging if it’s in a language you aren’t familiar with? Bluebeard’s Castle was really challenging because I don’t know Hungarian. But listening to the music and learning what’s happening in the story helped me to know it better before I got to rehearsals.
Can the timing get “off”?
Yes. And in some of the harder operas it isn’t necessarily because of the language. A lot of comedies are hard because the timing is so crucial. The punch line could be in the title, so I have to be on my toes, watching and listening intently, so I can project that title at just the right time. Mozart operas and Rossini operas, such as The Barber of Seville, are hard because they have a lot of recitative. Because recitatives are not performed strictly in tempo, my timing is really dependent on the singer.
Have things ever gone wrong?
Sometimes a singer, especially in a recitative, might forget where they are and skip ahead, and I have to accommodate them. But
that’s live theater.
When did you get interested in opera?
My mother gave me tickets to go with her to Seattle Opera as a graduation present from high school. I studied percussion and cello
in high school, and I majored in percussion at the University of Washington, so I had played overtures to operas in youth symphonies, but I didn’t know anything about opera. The first opera I went to was Lohengrin in 1994. We went that whole season and then in 1995 it was the Ring. I had a crash course in Wagner that summer. We had a lot of learning sessions at Pagliacci Pizza up the street from the opera house, and this was how I met Jonathan Dean [who was operating the titles at the time]. Jon must have seen that I was becoming a big opera geek. At some point he must have thought I’d be good with timing and rhythm because I am a percussionist. My first title job was the 2004 Lohengrin, so I came full circle with my first opera.
Are you still actively playing?
I do play a little bit when there is no opera, for example, during the holiday season when there is a lot of music all over town. I also teach. I’m a coach with the Seattle Youth Symphony Orchestras, and I sometimes go into the schools to teach. I’m also a mom. I’ve worked at Starbucks for almost 10 years. I’ve run into quite a few customers at the opera house, and I say, “Hey remember me?
I make your coffee.” And they say, “Oh, yeah, what are you doing here? Are you enjoying the show?” And I tell them, “Actually, I run the supertitles. I’m the one who makes it so that you understand what’s going on.”
-Jessica Murphy
Photo by Bill Mohn This Staff Chat first appeared in Seattle Opera’s program for The Barber of Seville in January 2011.
It's been quite a year for us here at Seattle Opera! We heard operas in German, Italian, and French, and from the 18th, 19th, and 20th centuries. Now that 2010/2011 is in the books, it's time to poll you, our wonderful audience, on your favorite production of the season.
Are you a Wagner fan who will choose Tristan und Isolde, or did you prefer the elegance of Lucia di Lammermoor? Was it the comedy of The Barber of Seville or the magical world of The Magic Flute that won you over? Or perhaps it was Seattle Opera's first-ever Don Quixote that thrilled you most. Whichever your choice, we want to know--so cast your vote today!
Seattle-based actor David S. Hogan has a unique role in The Barber of Seville. As Ambrogio, Dr. Bartolo’s servant, Hogan doesn’t sing or speak any lines, but he’s very much a part of the action—and the comedy. Today we chat with Hogan about what it’s like to be transformed from a handsome young guy into a crotchety old man, and how he manages to land those pratfalls without getting too injured.
This is your mainstage debut with Seattle Opera, but you’ve been in a Young Artists Program production with Peter Kazaras before. How did your relationship with the Opera begin? I was in the YAP production of Britten's A Midsummer Night's Dream, and I played Puck, the only speaking role in the opera. I am pretty certain that Vanessa Miller, who has an affiliation with Seattle Opera, passed my name along to the "right people." I had recently been in her production of Shakespeare's Midsummer with Seattle Shakespeare Company, so, I presume, passing along my named seemed like a good idea—which it was! At least in my opinion, because here we are now.
You have plenty of experience on the stage, but have your two productions with Seattle Opera been your only operatic engagements? Obviously, the giant singing makes an opera different from a play, but have you found any other differences between the two? Oh, yes, these have been my only two experiences in the opera—but, I hope, not my last! I have performed in one musical, and about 30 "straight" plays. I think that, yes, singing aside, it is similar. Of course, I have to act within the confines of the score when I do speak. In Midsummer, for instance, where I had quite a bit of text, I had to say the lines within the score. I was working inside or with music. Overall, in opera, as in theater, I believe we face the same responsibilities: interpret the text, discover the playwright's (or librettist's) intention, serve the story, listen to our scene partners, and collaborate with directors.
Sally Wolf (Berta) and David S. Hogan (Ambrogio), in mid-fall, during The Barber of Seville. Photo by Rozarii Lynch
There’s a lot of physical comedy in this Barber, especially with your character. Doesn’t it hurt to smash to the floor like you do? Ha! Yes, we all know people who fall down are funny, so I was happy to practice and perform falling to the floor as quickly as possible for a few laughs. Sure, it hurts. But only a little! I have a few bruises, but I know a few tricks and I am pretty sturdy. Funny enough, I have had a few opera-goers tell me that I should teach falling (or, rather, landing) classes, so people who do have accidents can bounce right back up, like Ambrogio does!
On a serious note, it is very important to do stunts safely. When I rehearsed the rail slide, I realized that the more I slid, the faster the ride became. That is why (spoiler alert!) I wear gloves in the scene—so I can slow down! I have done some training, locally, working with great people like Geoff Alm, Peter Dylan O'Connor, and Deb Fialkow. The training (don't break your falls with your wrists, land on your body's padded areas) and practice helps, but a lot of what I do with my body is instinctual.
David S. Hogan (Ambrogio), Nicholas Phan (Count Almaviva), and Adrian Rosas (Sergeant) in The Barber of Seville. Photo by Rozarii Lynch
On stage, you really appear like a brittle old man, but you’re this young, spry guy. What’s it like to be aged so intensely, and did you model your movements after anyone in particular? It is GREAT to be able to play someone who is nothing like me (old and grumpy!). Being able to create a convincing older character is an awesome achievement. My makeup artist, Shelby Adele Richardson, rocks, so I have to give her credit for at least half of the magic. And, we can't forget the fantastic wig (by Joyce Degenfelder) and the Costume Shop, especially Heidi Zamora. To answer your question, I can't say I modeled my physicality after anyone in particular. In the beginning of rehearsal, I started to incorporate the mouth frown, but it took me a few weeks to discover or develop the rest of Ambrogio's body. As I continued to play and experiment, I landed upon a slight slouch, shuffling feet, back pain, and (so I've been told) Martin Short/Ed Grimsley elbows. Ambrogio's physical movements came to life with help from Peter, our director, and Rosa Mercedes, our choreographer.
You don’t technically sing or speak in this role (aside from a few grunts), but I've noticed you mouthing a few lines when the entire cast is singing—what’s happening there? As you know, Mr. Jenkins comes to some rehearsals. We chatted after rehearsal, and he suggested that I lip sync during the Act I finale. I took his note to heart, at least half of it. Because I am an "actor" I have to justify EVERY choice I make on that stage, I decided that Ambrogio has enough wits about him by this point in the story—he was drugged earlier by Figaro, after all—to mouth along when the police comes to the door (because he is so startled), and when we all come downstage, hand in hand, in a kind of Act I climax (because he is so excited).
Sally Wolf (Berta) and David S. Hogan (Ambrogio) share a moment in The Barber of Seville. Photo by Rozarii Lynch
What’s next for you on your schedule? Well, I have had a good run lately. But after a fruitful 2010 with four productions, and a nice start to 2011, I have nothing lined up. I am auditioning, of course, but nothing in the books. I have spent the past three summers working with Seattle Shakespeare Company's outdoor outfit, Wooden O, so maybe I will land a role in one of their shows. But aside from hustling for the next acting gig, I am always busy running my dog walking and dog training company.
Last season, mezzo-soprano Kate Lindsey took on the title role in Seattle Opera's world premiere of Amelia, but this time around, she explores more familiar territory as Rosina in the Friday/Sunday cast of The Barber of Seville. We talked to Lindsey this week and asked her about returning to Seattle, the difference in prepping for a world premiere versus a classic role, and what Rosina really thinks about the men in her life.
Audiences here will undoubtedly remember you from Amelia. When it comes to how you prepare for a role, what are the differences between a new work like that and prepping for a such a well-known character like Rosina in Barber? Well, I have sung Rosina several times before this, so it was a very different experience to walk into Barber vs. Amelia. With Amelia, I began learning the music a little over a year before the start of rehearsals because I wanted to have the music completely in my body in order to feel fully comfortable with the music on Day One of rehearsals. In regard to Barber, I've performed Rosina in several different productions over the past 5 years, which naturally helped me to feel much more relaxed in preparing to walk into rehearsals in December. My main objective with Barber was to walk in with an open mind and blank slate so that we could all really enjoy being creative together—even though we've all performed it a few times before!
Patrick Carfizzi (Dr. Bartolo) and Kate Lindsey (Rosina) in The Barber of Seville. Photo by Rozarii Lynch
You’ve performed Barber with Dean Williamson before, is that correct? Yes, I did my first and second Rosinas with Dean back in 2006 at Washington East Opera and Opera Theatre of St. Louis. I'm still using the musical ornamentation he helped me develop for the role! This time around, I think we are much more relaxed. We've both lived with this rep for quite some time now, and I find it to be a true comfort to look into the pit and see Dean smiling up at me. We have a great time working together. All the productions of Barber that we've done together have been very different—but fun every time!
Let’s talk about your character a bit. Rosina and Figaro have some wonderful interactions in Barber and I wonder: What does Rosina really think about him? What do you think their relationship is like when we zoom out beyond this one day? I think Rosina and Figaro are great friends - they are so close that they even enjoy pushing each other's buttons from time to time! Figaro is truly the only person Rosina can trust, and he's her only link to the outside world, so I think she holds that relationship very close to her heart. This might be why you see Figaro still with "the family" in Le nozze di Figaro! Figaro cares about Rosina in a protective way, and she's lucky to have him, especially in Bartolo's crazy household.
Kate Lindsey (Rosina) and Nicholas Phan (Count Almaviva) in the The Barber of Seville. Photo by Rozarii Lynch
I think a very interesting moment in the opera is when Rosina finds out who the Count really is. What do you think it’s like for her at that moment, knowing her entire life is about to change? Hah—I think the first thing this fiery girl realizes is that she's been completely duped! She thought she had this whole thing figured out, and then she realizes that she never knew what in the world was going on. Once she gets over that initial shock, I think she feels shy because, all of a sudden, she's not really sure that she actually knows this person who's been serenading her all this time. Then, there's the classic "Whoa, this guy is way out of my league" moment in which the Count has to assure her that he loves her for her alone, just the way she is. I don't think she even realizes in that moment how much her life is going to change as a result of learning his identity. I just think she feels joy and relief that she doesn't have to marry Bartolo after all!
This is your second time in Seattle. How comfortable are you with the city by now? What sort of things do you do around town in your free time? I've gotten very comfortable in Seattle, especially since I've been here quite a bit over the past months due to the fact that when I was performing in Amelia, I started dating someone who lives here! Needless to say, I'm liking Seattle more and more each day. Life feels pretty incredible when you're able to pursue the passion of your work while also being able to share time with the one you love. To most people, that's a very normal thing, but for me it's pure novelty! Seattle has got great food, and we've definitely been enjoying our fair share of that over the past months. I've also just enjoyed getting to know various neighborhoods. Each one has a very distinct personality, and I can really appreciate that.
Baritone David Adam Moore has become a recognizable face and voice at Seattle Opera, going back to his days as a member of the Young Artists Program. More recently, Seattle audiences saw him as Zurga in 2009's The Pearl Fishers. Now he's currently performing in the Friday/Sunday cast of The Barber of Seville, winning audiences over with his "dashing and mischievous Figaro" (Examiner.com). Moore (shown here with Kate Lindsey as Rosina) has earned repeated invitations to Seattle and other cities thanks to his vocal and theatrical abilities, but he is also known as one of opera's best-looking men. Today we catch up with Moore and ask him what he thinks about that distinction, and we also learn about his interest in composing and DJing electronic music when he's not performing in the opera hall.
It’s no secret that blogs such as Barihunks are big fans of yours. What’s it like to have earned the title of a “Barihunk” and have people swooning over you online? It's very flattering. Naturally, though, talking about this in reference to myself is a little awkward.
Sex is an important element in opera plots, and I like the fact that these blogs exist because it indicates that there are opera enthusiasts who are aware of sexuality in opera and demand that performers have the ability to inhabit the sexuality of their characters. I don't really follow opera blogs, but from what I've seen, Barihunks seems to treat the subject in a tasteful way— it goes more deeply into aspects of the performers' work than just pointing out pictures of their biceps.
I often hear people worry that opera companies will begin casting more on looks than vocal and acting ability. I don't think this will happen because the learning curve that goes into becoming a decent opera singer is massive: vocal technique, languages, musicianship, acting. Unlike the film/TV/pop music world, there's no way to sidestep these requirements by being pretty. A full, beautiful voice and an engaging character will always give audiences more goose bumps than well-defined abs.
David Adam Moore as Zurga in Seattle Opera's 2009 production of The Pearl Fishers.
It seems that many people in these two casts are friends or have worked with each other before. What about you—do you have any prior connections to anyone in this Barber group? This production felt like a reunion of sorts. Most of us had known one another previously, and a few of the performers are long-time friends of mine. Larry Brownlee and I were in the Seattle Opera Young Artists Program together several years ago, with Dean Williamson as Music Director. Patrick Carfizzi and I worked together here just two years ago in Pearl Fishers: he was Nourabad and I played Zurga—VERY different characters with a very different relationship from Bartolo and Figaro! Kate Lindsey and I were Stephano and Mercutio in Roméo et Juliette recently in St. Louis. I've worked with Peter Kazaras (as a singer) several times.
You recently were honored by your hometown of Vidor, TX, with a star on their new Walk of Fame. Can you tell us a little about Vidor, and what it’s like to be immortalized there now? Vidor is a small town in southeast Texas, 30 miles from Louisiana, and 100 miles from Houston. The town itself consists mainly of pine forests, trailer parks, churches, and a strong, distinctly Texan, local culture. For some reason, a number of notable musicians have emerged from Vidor. Most of them have been Country-Western and Blues musicians like George Jones and Billie Jo Spears, so I was thrilled that when the city built a Walk of Fame, they decided to include someone from the classical music world. Very few people in Vidor have been exposed to classical music, much less opera, so I hope this will raise opera's profile there. My father, Bubba Moore, is a noted bassist/singer in the country music world. He was inducted, too, so this was very exciting for my family, most of whom are country musicians.
David Adam Moore (Figaro) in the Friday/Sunday cast of The Barber of Seville.
Some people may not know that in addition to singing, you also compose music yourself. How long have you been composing music? Growing up in a family of musicians, I had been making up songs since I was a kid. As a teenager, I began DJing, collecting synthesizers, and writing and performing electronic music in the style of Depeche Mode, New Order, etc. I didn't discover classical music or singing until college, where I spent my first two years studying composition and voice. Because I went in with no previous classical training, the body of knowledge I had to ingest was so enormous that I eventually decided to drop composition and concentrate on singing and acting. Several years later, after grad school, I rediscovered electronic music and have been composing as an avocation since. Most of my work has been electronic dance music under the moniker "kickplate"—bass-heavy minimal techno, electro, and glitchy downtempo. I've also DJed in a few clubs here in Queen Anne and Capitol Hill.
I'm beginning to compose more "serious" music, though. I wrote a piece for 6 dancers, 4 sopranos, and electronics, in collaboration with a Slovenian band called "Silence," that was performed at NYC's 92nd Street Y two months ago. It went very well. Stylistically, the music is very tonal and accessible, with a few minutes of extended vocal techniques by the dancers— clicks, hisses, moaning, etc.— building into a climactic, highly-structured chorale carried over by the sopranos, on top of a huge, slow techno beat. We crafted the electronic track in a way that uses frequencies that allow space for the voices to carry in the hall without being amplified—like in opera. I want to explore this idea of mixing unamplified operatic voices with amplified sounds more, so I'm now writing an atonal piece called "Minotaur" for bass-baritone and subwoofer, utilizing the subwoofer itself as an "acoustic" instrument.
I've also been getting into video and projection design. I put together a concert of Schubert's Winterreise with video projections, which I performed last year in Houston, and I've also been making little site-specific video installations.
Nicholas Phan (Count Almaviva) and David Adam Moore (Figaro) in the Friday/Sunday cast of The Barber of Seville.
So you’re clearly interested in many types of music, including very contemporary pop/rock styles. What about when it comes to opera? I love contemporary music! If it's well-written, it can offer audiences something to which they can more easily relate than older works. We often forget that many of the great warhorses of opera were once "contemporary" pieces. When Mozart's Le nozze di Figaro premiered in Vienna's National Theater in 1786, it was a contemporary opera in every sense. Its characters were contemporary figures in contemporary dress, its score was considered difficult, and it was based on a play so controversial that it was officially banned only two years before. To 1780s Viennese audiences, this opera wasn't a charming masterpiece to be coddled and preserved— it was an irreverent, critical mirror of contemporary society.
I try to perform as much contemporary opera as I can, but, because the music tends to be more complex, these pieces take a lot of prep time, so I usually end up doing 2 or 3 large-scale works per year and whatever smaller-scale pieces I can work into my schedule. The quality of vocal writing in contemporary music can vary wildly these days, so it's always nice, from a vocal standpoint, to return to a vintage work that has withstood the test of time. The standard repertory is essentially a sampling of the most successful writing of the past 400 years— pieces with superior vocal writing, beautiful music, and compelling stories that have been "naturally selected" over others throughout the decades.
One of my favorite contemporary operas to perform is a monodrama for baritone and chamber orchestra by David T. Little called Soldier Songs. It's a powerful piece that deals with war, combat post-traumatic stress disorder, and the way in which soldiers are misunderstood by society. Musically, its influences range from Schubert to Cannibal Corpse. It was a big hit in NYC two years ago, and we'll be staging it again at the International Festival of Arts and Ideas in Connecticut this summer. There is talk of a recording as well, but that isn't solid yet. At the moment, I'm preparing the role of Vincent Van Gogh for a biographical opera called Vincent by Bernard Rands, and the Lucifer in Peter Eötvös' Die Tragödie des Teufels.
Today we talk with supernumerary Andre Alabastro, who can be seen in Seattle Opera's production of The Barber of Seville as Figaro's young assistant. The middle schooler isn't a stranger to the stage, and we ask him about his performance history, his thoughts on Barber, and if he ever plans on doing some singing in addition to acting.
Andre, how old are you and where do you go to school? I’m 13. I’m in 7th grade at Hamilton International Middle School, and in my 8th year at Pacific Northwest Ballet School.
International School, huh…does that mean you speak a foreign language? Yeah, I’ve been taking Spanish classes since first grade. But I’m not that good.
Between your work with PNB and Seattle Opera, McCaw Hall must be like a second home to you. How many ballets and operas, total, have you performed in? I’ve been in The Nutcracker six times, plus six other ballets, so twelve of those. And Barber of Seville is my third opera. I was a Nibelung in the Ring. And last spring, in Amelia, I was in that, too. I was a kid in the Vietnamese village scene, I was up on a cart.
As Figaro’s Assistant in The Barber of Seville, we get to see your movement artistry, your physical comedy and you jumping around. But when will we HEAR you? Do you play an instrument, or sing? I’ve played a little ukulele. They say I’m OK at it. With the ukulele, you know, you sing “Somewhere over the Rainbow,” Hawaiian songs, things like that. Actually, I used to sing, but—[makes squeaky adolescent noise with throat]. Although, in the Ring, I got a scream! As a Nibelung, I was running through the caves and I had to scream.
Andre Alabstro (Figaro's Assistant) and José Carbó (Figaro, in the Saturday/Wednesday cast)
What’s your favorite thing about being involved with The Barber of Seville? I’m glad that I’m not just standing around at the back of the stage, holding Figaro’s props…[poses as a slack-jawed gawker]. I get to go and mess with Figaro. José usually sprays me with his water canteen, so I spray him back—stuff like that.
What’s your favorite moment in The Barber of Seville? I like when they’re all fighting and the cops come…[acts out scene]…“Knock knock knock” “Chi è?” [imitates Patrick Carfizzi’s delivery of Bartolo’s ludicrous ad lib] That’s my favorite part. Also, the scene when the Count dresses up as the music teacher and sings in that weird voice. That’s great.
What’s your least favorite moment in The Barber of Seville? The Gold Cast sings a much longer final scene, and I’m always standing around backstage at that point waiting for the curtain call. I’m usually thinking: it’s got to be over soon.
Figaro’s Assistant is clearly the best character in the opera. What can you tell us about him? You know, I don’t think he really likes Figaro all that much. Except when he sings his “Figaro Figaro Figaro” thing. Peter [Kazaras, the production’s stage director] told me, when he sings that part, it’s like “He’s Figaro, he’s awesome.” I once tried pointing at him like that, and then going, sort of, “Just kidding, he sucks.” But we don’t do it like that—at that moment I really like him.
What advice do you have for the other characters? What would you tell them? Rosina, Lindoro is actually Count Almaviva! You ought to marry Figaro instead. And then adopt me.
David Adam Moore (Figaro, in the Friday/Sunday cast) and Andre Alabastro (Figaro's Assistant)
If you were to work for an opera company when you grow up, what job would you most like to have? Depends on whether I’d be a good singer. Actually, I’d want to be the conductor. That would be fun, to be in control of the entire thing.
And in this opera, the conductor also plays the fortepiano, so he’s in the orchestra, too. Does that mean he gets two paychecks?
Good question. When will see you next onstage? My class at PNB will perform at McCaw Hall at the end of the school year. And I’m in an infomercial, for Brainetics, that you can see. I was in a commercial for Wii Fit, when that first came out. It played in all the stores. It was fun when we taped it—I got to use the Wii Fit before anybody else on the West Coast!
I checked in last night with Turkish bass Burak Bilgili, who plays Don Basilio, Rosina’s oleaginous music teacher, in The Barber of Seville. Bilgili, who first sang at Seattle Opera as Banco in Macbeth in 2006, has also appeared several times with Vancouver Opera, as Don Basilio, Leporello in Don Giovanni, Banco in Macbeth and, last fall, as Raimondo in Lucia di Lammermoor—appearing opposite his wife, soprano Eglise Gutierrez, who sang Lucia.
Where in Turkey did you grow up, and how did you get started in music? I come from Konya. It’s south of Ankara, in the middle of Turkey…the place where Whirling Dervishes come from. I started singing when I was very young: five, six, something like that, singing pop music, traditional Turkish songs, everything except classical music.
We have several conservatories in Turkey—three in Istanbul, and also in Ankara and in Izmir. I graduated from a conservatory in Istanbul and then came to the United States, to finish my training at the Academy of Vocal Arts in Philadelphia.
A young Burak Bilgili, shown here with his voice teacher in Turkey. Photo courtesy of Burak Bilgili
You’re also a new dad—how exciting! Do you and Eglise ever sing to your four-month old daughter? Yes, I tend to sing and speak to Lucia in Turkish and sing Turkish lullabies and songs; her mother and her grandmother sing and speak to her in Spanish. And since we usually speak to each other in English, she hears that too. I have no idea which language she’s going to start to speak first. I’ve read that when a child has to triangulate among three languages like that, it can take a little longer for her to begin speaking.
So you and Eglise mostly communicate in English. Do you speak or sing in Spanish? We speak in English, sometimes in Italian. I understand Spanish, but I’m not very good at speaking it. I have sung in Spanish—I did the role of the Captain in Catán’s Florencia en el Amazonas when we did it in Cincinnati.
Your beautiful bass voice is a ticket to a world of evil. Devils, tyrants, oppressive fathers, wicked priests…have you ever wanted to play the good guy? Good guy—ha!
So you enjoy always wreaking havoc when you come onstage? It’s true, there aren’t a lot of good guy roles for my voice type. I think Leporello is a good guy—he’s very innocent, and Don Giovanni uses him. I’ve also sung Don Giovanni, I like doing that role a lot. And, let’s see, well, Banco in Macbeth, I did that here in Seattle—he isn’t wicked. But yes: I like singing Mephistophélès.
Patrick Carfizzi (Dr. Bartolo) and Burak Bilgili (Don Basilio), in Seattle Opera's production of The Barber of Seville. Photo by Rozarii Lynch
Tell us a little about Don Basilio. Is there anything serious, or real, about this ridiculous character? I think Basilio is a completely serious person, he’s not a clown. What he says in his big aria is real—he isn’t lying, he’s completely serious. Figaro doesn’t tell the truth, but Basilio tells the truth. Basilio tells Bartolo exactly what he should do; Bartolo ignores him because he can’t accept reality, that’s all.
Your big aria in The Barber of Seville, “La calunnia,” is a huge crescendo illustrating the effect of calumny and slander. How do you pace yourself so that you don’t get TOO loud? The thing is, the great composers knew what they were doing: you just follow the instructions in the score. Rossini wrote it all out: this phrase is piano, then mezzo piano, then mezzo forte, and so on. Singing loud by itself isn’t interesting; the contrast is what makes it interesting. And you can’t do this piece by getting louder, louder, and then even louder, or it will be ugly. You end up just screaming. Opera is about singing.
I noticed tonight that you added a high G to the climax of your aria “La calunnia.” Pretty high, for a bass! Well, most basses.... If you can sing that note, you find a way to use it!
Today we have a chat with soprano Sarah Coburn, who appeared as Rosina in Saturday's opening night cast for The Barber of Seville. The Seattle Times said her performance displayed "stunning vocal fireworks," and today we ask Coburn about her character, her on-stage jitters, and if her daughter ever gets to hear her sing those spectacular high notes.
You’ve performed a lot of tragic roles in your career, but here in Seattle you’ve done more lighthearted productions (Die Fledermaus previously, and now Barber). Are you drawn to certain types of roles in particular, or do you try and keep a balance? I really don't make decisions based on whether the role is a comedy or tragedy; most of the bel canto heroines that I sing are rather sad victims. I have been singing Gilda non-stop for the last seven months, so this Rosina is quite a relief! I am also thankful that my roles in Seattle, so far, have been comic. It seems to help me to cope with the clouds and rain!
You’ve said in the past that Rosina is the “straight man” in this opera—but she still certainly elicits many laughs from the audience. What’s your approach toward performing this role? Comedy is very difficult, because it is all about precise timing. I think Rosina can be funny, but the humor comes from her reactions to the situations, and not from an effort to try and be “funny.” It also helps that Peter Kazaras has allowed us to speak directly to the audience, sharing our various predicaments and inviting them into the situation. My favorite comedy of all time is Frasier, and what is so great about that show is that no one is really trying to be funny. Their reactions to their situations are what come across as hilarious.
Sarah Coburn (Rosina) and Lawrence Brownlee (Count Almaviva) in Seattle Opera's production of The Barber of Seville. Photo by Rozarii Lynch
I’ve read that you’ve suffered from stage fright in the past. What’s that experience been like for you, and has your stage fright eased up over the years? Yes, I have suffered from stage fright, and I have no problem being completely open about it because my honesty can only help others who deal with it as well. One of the greatest investments I have made in my career was the time I spent working with Dr. Ellen Hollander, who was recommended by Renée Fleming, and who specializes in these issues.
I also must thank my daughter for helping me to overcome so much of it, because I was forced to deal with these issues while I was pregnant. After she was born, I began to really live in the moment, for the first time in my life, and that is something that I have been able to carry over to the stage as well. In most of my singing in the past, I tended to worry about a high note or a difficult passage that would be 20 minutes away, and this forward-thinking would sabotage the musical moment that was actually happening. I am still working on really focusing on what is going on at the exact moment it happens, but I now rarely have to deal with that scary, judgmental voice that says, "Just stop singing, apologize to the audience, and walk offstage."
Would you say it’s scarier to be on stage when you need to be funny and make the audience laugh, or when you’re in a more dramatic role? Or is it all equally nerve-wracking? I think I tend to feel more nervous when I am onstage alone. I love duets, and feel completely calm and happy when I have a colleague onstage. But I think the most comfortable moments for me onstage are during mad scenes, because I don't feel the pressure to look pretty, to stand still, to sound controlled or even elegant! Gosh, what does that say about me? Maybe I am crazy!
Sarah Coburn as Rosina in Seattle Opera's production of The Barber of Seville. Photo by Rozarii Lynch
You mentioned your daughter—how old is she? What’s it like being a mom when your career requires that you travel so much? Katie Rose is 17 months old and such a sweet girl. She has been with me on the road since she was 2 months old, and she is a great traveler. (I feel like I could write a book on the subject; I have taken her on 26 flights and 3 cross-country car trips!) It is a blessing that I am able to take her with me, and we have a wonderful nanny that travels with us. It is a difficult lifestyle, though. Finding balance and attempting to be a good mom, wife, singer, and employer is tricky. We are going to take some time off next season, and enjoy being at home with Dad. I can't wait!
How does your daughter feel about Mom’s voice? Do you ever sing to her? I don't sing that much opera at home—mostly lullabies and hymns at bedtime. The one time I attempted to really sing an aria in her presence ("Martern aller Arten"), she burst into tears! But I do warm up at home, and she imitates me. We have a funny video of her vocalizing at 3 months old, and I think she is definitely a coloratura!
On Sunday, January 23, from 1 to 1:30 pm, superstar tenor Lawrence Brownlee will be at Amusements, the McCaw Hall gift shop, to sign copies of EMI Classics' newly released CD of Rossini's Stabat Mater. In December, in newspapers across the country, the Associated Press said that in this recording, Brownlee "at moments even surpasses the late Italian superstar" Luciano Pavarotti. CLICK HERE to read Verena Dobnik's review of the recording, which features Brownlee, Anna Netrebko, Joyce DiDonato, and Ildebrando d'Arcangelo and is conducted by Antonio Pappano. Amazon has samples posted HERE.
Because Amusements is in the outer lobby of McCaw Hall, this CD signing will be open to the public. Those who have tickets to the matinee on January 23 will be in the building anyway; but everyone is welcome.
Listen to this live recording of Seattle Opera General Director Speight Jenkins as he candidly answers the audience's questions after the Saturday, January 15 opening night performance of The Barber of Seville.
Before we open The Barber of Seville on Saturday night, let's meet our guitar soloist, Michael Partington. Michael will accompany our Almavivas in the serenades in the first scene (photo by Rozarii Lynch), and will also join us at Seattle Opera next month for the Spanish guitar sound that's part of our upcoming opera, Don Quixote.
Welcome to Seattle Opera! You grew up playing guitar from a very early age in Wales; how did you end up living, playing, and teaching in Seattle? I actually starting teaching guitar during my last year in high school in the UK, and I continued to do it full time for about 3 years after graduating. To be honest it felt a little less like a career and more like a great way to avoid having to go to university and then get a job! When I moved to the US I stopped playing guitar for about a year and a half, and then I started taking lessons and practicing again, mostly because I missed it. Meanwhile, I was accepted at the UW to do an English degree (in an apparent effort to "grow up"). My guitar teacher at the time suggested I take the music scholarship auditions, and when they offered me the Brechemin scholarship I decided I should probably do music. While at the UW, I started playing competitions and performing, and I recorded my first CD in my senior year. At this point it seemed like the opportunity to continue not to have to get a job had presented itself once again, so I seized it with both hands.
You have a long history with the University of Washington. What’s it like to teach at a school where you were once a student? It's an honor and an exciting opportunity for me in many ways. I've always enjoyed teaching students of any level, but to have the opportunity to help aspiring professionals brings a different kind of satisfaction, as well as keeping me on my toes. While I was a student I felt university gave me a great opportunity to work with other musicians -- guitar is such a solitary endeavor most of the time -- and now it's doing the same but it means working with faculty rather than students, and of course it led to this work with Seattle Opera.
Your repertoire, which includes early music, twentieth century music, new music, and Romantic opera classics such as Barber of Seville and Don Quichotte, seems extremely diverse...but maybe that’s typical for a classical guitarist. Who are your heroes, musically speaking? The guitar has a repertoire that reaches back to the early 16th century, via both the lute and the vihuela – a Spanish ancestor of the 6 string guitar that is remarkably similar to the modern instrument. One of our richest eras was the early 19th century, and one of my musical heroes is Mauro Giuliani, an Italian guitarist composer who moved to Vienna in 1810 and was quite the celebrity – so much so that he was invited to play principal cello (his second instrument) at the premiere of Beethoven’s 7th symphony! He was also evidently very good friends with Rossini and wrote many sets of variations that featured themes from Rossini’s operas.
Michael Partington
Tell us a little about the instrument you’ll be playing in The Barber of Seville. It’s what’s generally known as a Romantic Guitar – an instrument dating from the early part of the nineteenth century -- which differs in some technical ways from the modern classical guitar, but is basically just smaller. If you think of the differences between fortepiano and a modern concert piano you’re on the right track. Mine is a French instrument, probably from the 1840s, with gorgeous flamed maple back and sides and a pearl-and-paste rosette. That’s the decoration around the soundhole – guitars traditionally have a wood-tile mosaic rosette but Romantic guitars often have these very decorative patterns of mother of pearl inlaid into ebony paste.
You accompany Almaviva’s serenade beneath Rosina’s window in The Barber of Seville Act 1 Scene 1. Since it’s just you and the tenor, you get to improvise a little in that scene. How would you characterize the difference between what our two tenors, Lawrence Brownlee and Nicholas Phan? There's an imperative to improvise; the intention is for the serenade to really feel improvised, and I end up having a bit of a duel with Almaviva, but he makes it pretty clear who's boss! Lawrence and Nicholas are both tremendous musicians, and playing with them is a real treat for me. Trying to compare them is like comparing The Macallan to a 12 year old Highland Park - both outstanding in their own way. Most importantly, when you're enjoying one you don't find yourself thinking about the other!
You’re playing Rossini for us now, but next month you’ll be playing Massenet when we do Don Quichotte (albeit Massenet imitating “Spanish” music). Are there any obvious differences between Italian and French music for classical guitar? That question brings to mind the story about Bizet: when asked if he was planning to go to Spain to do research before writing Carmen, he replied with an emphatic no, as it would only confuse him. At the risk of making what is clearly a vast generalisation I'd say Italian guitar repertoire is more brilliant, overtly virtuosic and passionate. French music is perhaps no less passionate, but it's a far more reserved and reflective intensity.
The Barber is here! Preview the singers, story overview, and some of the many slapstick moments in this laugh-out-loud production. See both casts ham it up while delivering impressive vocal acrobatics - for nine performances only.
For tickets to Seattle Opera's upcoming production of The Barber of Seville, visit the Seattle Opera website.
Dean Williamson, our maestro for The Barber of Seville, is no stranger to the Seattle Opera stage or to any of the performers in this production. He took the time to tell us a little about one of his favorite operas, the instrument he'll be playing during the performances, and the singers in our terrific cast.
How many times have you conducted The Barber of Seville before, and for which opera companies? Did you already know all the singers in the Seattle cast, or are some of these people new to you? It’s been the opera I’ve most frequently conducted so far...at least 21 performances, and after Seattle it will be 30. I've done it for companies such as the Opera Theatre of St. Louis, Kentucky Opera, Wolf Trap Opera, and Opera Cleveland. The first Barbiere I conducted was at the 7000 seat Filene Center in Wolf Trap, and was also Sarah Coburn and Nic Phan’s first essays in the roles. I also conducted Kate Lindsey and Patrick Carfizzi in their first Barbieres in St. Louis. Larry Brownlee and I have done Cenerentola (Seattle YAP) and Italiana (Boston Lyric Opera), so we are completing a Rossini comedy trifecta with this production.
Why do you like this opera? What would you say to a hardcore opera fan who claims to be “over” The Barber of Seville? I don’t know how anyone can be “over” Barbiere. Like Mozart’s Nozze di Figaro, it’s such a perfect marriage (pun intended) of comedy, theater, beautiful music, and expressive virtuosity of the voice. I never tire of conducting the two works...well, maybe my back and shoulders tire from doing Barbiere...but the time always seems to zip by once I start the overture. Mozart and Rossini have Beaumarchais to thank for creating wonderful characters that have become like old friends. If you are seeing the operas for the first time, you can instantly relate to the people onstage.
Of course, the opera connoisseur is going to look at Barbiere from a completely different angle, one of judging the quality of singing and orchestra playing.
Rossini makes evil demands on the voices and the orchestra. Remember the poor musicians in the pit are working just as hard and playing twice as many notes! It demands a lightness and sunny spirit, two things that are about as far from the mind as possible when sweating it out in the rapid fire 16th notes.
What’s the hardest thing about Barber, musically? Within the speed and agility, one has to strive for a naturalness and ease from the pit and stage, with a light hand from the director, conductor, and cast. It’s not easy for the conductor, as it can be like herding kittens! Musically there are also issues of period practice vs. modern practice, what edition to use, how often does one ornament, how does one ornament, etc. I wish I could get into a time capsule and go back to the early/mid 19th century and hear for myself how the singers and orchestras performed this music.
Also, as in all bel canto music, the conductor must know when to accommodate the singer, encourage more rubato, or do the opposite keeping them strictly on the beat. It’s a musical conversation that has a lot of give and take. With great singers such as those in our casts, it feels like chamber music, especially since we have done the opera before and are intimately familiar with each other on a musical level.
Dean Williamson played the recitatives on a Kurzweil keyboard during the rehearsal process. Here, Assistant Director Jeff Buchman helps the cast learn semaphore movements for the mayhem of the Act One imbroglio Finale (Photo by Alan Alabastro)
Audiences who attend on Saturdays and Wednesdays will hear a soprano Rosina; Sunday and Friday audiences will hear a mezzo. Beyond the voices of the individual singers, how would you characterize the difference between the sounds of the two voice types? The mezzo has a lower, warmer, deeper timbre, while the soprano has a shimmer and spin, especially from the middle to the upper stratosphere.
With Sarah and Kate it’s difficult to separate their personalities from their voices...each one brings a different element or pizzazz to the role. And each is stretching her voice in both directions, singing very high and very low. We do accommodate them in the famoua aria “Una voce poco fa” by doing it in different keys so it better fits their voices.
Other than that and the specific ornaments and cadenzas they choose to do, musically it’s not that different. I do slightly adjust the tempi...they each move faster or slower in different passages, and my job is to find the tempi that best allow their voices to bloom into the large space of McCaw.
At his performances, Lawrence Brownlee will be singing the pyrotechnically demanding aria “Cessa di più resistere.” How do you respond to the charge that this aria, which is traditionally cut, is dramatically superfluous? If done well by a tenor who can sing it (Larry is one of probably 3 in the world nowadays who can) it rings true. For me, it occupies the same emotional position in the opera as it does when it appears (in the identical tune) sung by Angelina in Cenerentola. Both occur in the end of the operas in what I call the revelation scene. Cinderella appears at the ball as her true self and speaks to each of her family members, offering forgiveness for their cruelty. The Count appears after removing his cloak as the true Count and man in love with Rosina, announcing his true intentions. In both cases they sing a tremendously difficult and sparkling aria with many changes of mood and tempi. It also must be staged with a delicate hand, so as to not stop all action while the tenor or mezzo sings a fancy aria.
You will accompany the recitatives from a fortepiano on your conductor’s podium. Tell us a little about the instrument you’ll be playing. It’s a beautiful instrument in a cherry wood case lent to us by Professor George Bozarth from the University of Washington. He is one of the world’s leading Brahms scholars and is also an avid collector of early keyboard instruments. The fortepiano is an early version of the modern pianoforte, smaller, with a more transparent tone. The instrument we are using has a clavichord action, which is a simple lever popping a leather covered hammer into the string. A modern piano has an escapement action, much more complicated, which allows more force and faster repetition. The fortepiano has about 20% of the key resistance of a modern piano, which makes it more difficult to play. I have to pull my arm weight out of the keys and use primarily finger action, which is counterintuitive to the many years of piano training I received. And the keyboard is much smaller with reversed black/white coloration of the keys, so my brain and eyes are having to adjust at the same time.
The instrument is also straight-strung, meaning the strings go straight back like a harp. The bottom third has brass strings, lending a unique brassy timbre. The middle and top registers have their own coloration, as well, so you can do neat effects by utilizing different parts of the scale.
It’s the first time I’ve ever played a fortepiano and I’m looking forward to the experience. Apparently it was Rossini and Mozart’s favorite instrument for secco recitatives in their operas. Previously in Baroque opera they used a harpsichord, which is still in use in many Mozart opera productions. Fortepiani are very hard to come by nowadays. So Seattle Opera audiences in for a rare treat.