Opinion has always divided on Cecilia Bartoli. Some regard the mezzo as one of the wonders of the musical world, marrying a fabulous vocal technique, impeccable musicianship and an engaging platform manner. Others think she is a one-trick pony, whose famed handling of coloratura is too mechanical and whose stage persona is self-consciously winsome. The truth lies somewhere in between, and London opera-goers have the chance to make up their own minds over the next couple of weeks in the Royal Opera's new production of Il Turco in Italia, in which Bartoli is appearing as the incorrigibly predatory Fiorilla, only her second stage role at Covent Garden.
The part suits her extrovert manner down to the ground, and there are enough showpiece arias to keep her admirers happy. They are all dispatched with the usual fluency, though her voice sometimes sounds worn, and the incessant staccato of her coloratura hardly makes the character more endearing. Fiorilla really is a bit of grotesque, whose self-awareness towards the end of the opera is too brief for real redemption before the happily-ever-after finale kicks in.
Though the score contains some of Rossini's most beautiful numbers, Turco in Italia is one of his frothier pieces, and if there are hidden depths - it's been called the most Mozartian of his comedies - they are not detectable in Patrice Caurier and Moshe Leiser's production. With a cheap and cheerful set by Christian Fenouillat and loud-patterned costumes by Agostino Cavalca, the action is updated to the Dolce Vita world of 1960s Italy. Prosdocimo, the poet who observes all the goings on, seems to be got up like Federico Fellini. Don Geronico, Fiorilla's long-suffering husband, drives a Fiat Cinquecento, her erstwhile lover Don Narciso sports an Elvis quiff and rides a scooter, while Selim, the Turk who steals everyone's hearts, arrives in his own cruise ship.
Musically, standards are high. Adam Fischer's conducting is affectionate if sometimes a bit stodgy, but having a trio of experienced Italians as the core of the cast is an enormous plus. Alongside Bartoli, Ildebrando D'Arcangelo is the dashing Turk, and Alessandro Corbelli is matchless as the bumbling Geronico. All three of them steer the ensembles with real Rossinian wit and instinctive timing, alongside Thomas Allen's sardonic Prosdocimo. Barry Banks delivers Narciso's second-act aria with touching directness, Heather Shipp makes a feisty Zaida, the Gypsy to whom Selim is engaged. It's a tight ensemble, going expertly about its business.
· In rep until June 15. Box office: 020-7304 4000.
