Anyone intending to go to the new Covent Garden production of Rossini's Il Barbiere di Siviglia should perhaps consider where to sit. Figaro, the eponymous barber played by Romanian baritone George Petean, kicks off his opening aria marauding round the stalls. If you're a chap in an aisle seat, the chances are you'll find him examining your quiff - he materialised at my side, at one point, subjecting my near total absence of hair to quizzical scrutiny. If you're in the front row, meanwhile, you may end up temporarily ousted from your seat as he scrambles past you to climb on to the stage.
Given that Figaro is the proletarian prankster whose antics expose the cracks in bourgeois and aristocratic social codes, the scene is both telling and provocative. Unfortunately, the evening doesn't quite live up to its anarchic promise.
The production, by Moshe Leiser and Patrice Caurier, swamps Rossinian clarity in a mixture of the surreal and the postmodern. The set is a striped box that seems to have strayed from Bridget Riley's studio, while the costumes overlay the modern with the 18th century: Almaviva (Toby Spence) is got up like a new romantic pop icon in yellow ruffles and a cerise suit; Rosina (Joyce DiDonato) is constrained not only by Bartolo's bullying, but also by a heavily corseted postwar "new look" gown. There are various film references, curiously deployed: the Keystone Cops designate the corrupt, inefficient police force; the bad guys are horror movie villains, with Raymond Aceto mutating into Murnau's Nosferatu during the calumny aria, and Bruno Pratico's Bartolo looking like Danny de Vito as the Penguin in Batman Returns. Some of it is funny, but some of it also clunks, and the opera's all-important class and sexual dynamics become unclear as a result.
There are, however, some fine performances, particularly from Spence, whose Almaviva is stronger-toned and more virile than most, and DiDonato, who sounds gorgeous. Petean is thrilling if occasionally brutish: he plays Figaro as a dungarees-clad bovver-boy rather than a charmer on the make, which strays from Rossini's intentions. Pratico is outstanding, though Aceto woofs a bit.
In the pit, Mark Elder injects a measure of subtlety into the proceedings by avoiding flashiness and opting for graceful restraint. The sum of the evening's parts, however, doesn't always add up to a satisfactory whole.
· Until January 14. Box office: 020-7304 4000.
