The Barber of Seville – Upstairs at The Gatehouse

Hollywood pin-up, Timothee Chalamet caused a global hoo-ha when he claimed in an interview that “no one cares” about ballet or opera. He was rightly ridiculed and provoked a lively debate which proved that high art forms are in rude health and ignorance is ugly, even when it comes from the mouth of a beauty. Nobody can deny that ballet, opera and classical theatre can be elitist, financially inaccessible, intellectually demanding, unfamiliar to the newcomer and outrageously time consuming. As someone who endured Einstein on the Beach by Philip Glass (5 hours) at Barbican and Gaddafi: A Living Myth at ENO, I can confirm that attending such productions can feel like extreme sport mixed with expensive self-harm. It is also true that when some of the cultural barriers are removed or tackled, a fresh audience can have their minds expanded by an art form that was once alien to their consciousness.

Opera Kipling is a company that exists to transcend the standard challenges of the operatic art form. Their remit is to create small, affordable and accessible productions for modern audiences. Their winning strategy can only be applauded and long may they continue. The Barber of Seville (Il barbiere di Siviglia) was composed in 1816 by Italian composer Gioachino Rossini. It’s an opera in four acts and was originally pitched as a kinda lowbrow LOL-fest. Rossini went pop, creating a colourful riposte to the serious works using classical literature as source material. The Barber of Seville is a slapstick, farcical nonsense, packed with epic bangers. It’s an iconic musical masterpiece of such fame and impact that it’s almost impossible to be ignorant to its melodies and arias. Pop culture has rinsed Rossini’s score ever since it was written. It’s regularly featured in film soundtracks and advertising, often as an easy artistic shortcut. Figaro’s ‘Largo al factorum’ look’s unfamiliar when written on the page, until you hear it. Then you realise it’s been in your DNA for a lifetime.

The concept of enjoying The Barber of Seville above a pub is highly appealing, especially if you are twitched by toffs, pinched by poverty and lacking in Latin. On the night we attended, Upstairs at The Gatehouse seemed packed with Hampstead’s Triple Lock Pension posse, rather that the adolescent Tik Tok crowd. To be fair, it was a hot Friday night and anyway, it’s always a delight to be one of the youngest in the audience. The plot of this opera is utterly ridiculous, but that’s part of the fun. Count Almaviva engages a cocky hairdresser called Figaro to help him woo a damsel called Rosina who is captive to a pervy old doctor. There are disguises, mistaken identities, physical comedy and highly unlikely happy ending. In the early 19th century, with the Barber of Seville, Rossini gave the wider public the entertainment they wanted. Audiences have been lapping it up for two centuries since, largely due to the unforgettable and genius score.

Robert Tilson played Count Almaviva/Lindoro and conveyed a puppy-like enthusiasm to his romantic pursuits. As with the entire cast, he sounded amazing. Afficionados may beg to differ, but for 90 minutes, I was fully astounded at the exotic sounds emanating from my fellow humans. Figaro was played with consummate skill by Alexander Jones who was so magnetic and confident that it felt like he was in another show entirely. When Jones sang, I wasn’t in a London boozer, he took me to old school Seville. His stage presence, physicality and vocal abilities were so strong that he demolished the queries which sprang from other aspects of this production.

Don Bartolo was played by Massimo Modoni, founder of the Accademia dell’Opera Italiana and an accomplished harpist. He trains singers for the Teatro alla Scala and has performed a bass solo, conducted by Emanuela Di Pietro. Modoni can sing and pluck strings like an angel, but he lacked the evil threat which Bartolo brings to the story. The ‘doctor’ costume felt unnecessary and cheap. Rossini’s coercive tyrant felt fussy, rather than frightening.

The decision to set the action in the swinging 1960s worked in some places, but faltered in others. At one point, Laura Curry’s Rosina gave a brief snatch of ‘You Really Got Me’ by The Kinks, originally recorded in 1964. The nod to a Mod classic was bold and entertaining, especially for the audience demographic. The snowy haired elders clocked the ‘60s references and enjoyed the rock and roll flashback and Union Jack claptrap.

The cast looked cute in vintage garb and Don Basilio (Geoff Clapham) had a psychedelic episode, which added a trippy dose of period comedy. However, the 1960s were about free love and revolution, whereas this story reflects 18th century values. The libretto is based on Pierre Beaumarchais’s French comedy, The Barber of Seville, written in 1775. The sound, atmosphere and attitude is definitively Italian, despite its Spanish setting. It’s more Italian than pizza. Even if you got The Beatles to perform this opera on Carnaby Street with Twiggy and Mick Jagger, it would STILL sound like rural Andalusia in 1775.

I enjoyed this show immensely. It wasn’t perfect, but it delivered heaps of charm. Alexander Jones as Figaro proved a revelation and he managed to outshine and overwhelm the less successful aspects of this production. Musical Director Giannis Giannopulos deserves credit for maintaining the majesty with barely a budget and not much to play with. As I staggered down the steep, leafy hill, from the highest point in Hampstead Village, I no doubt bothered local residents and the Camden cat population by singing excerpts from this opera. By any measure, that’s evidence of a show that had impact and a fair bit of magic.

The Barber of Seville is at Upstairs at The Gatehouse until 9th August 2026, https://www.upstairsatthegatehouse.com/

Reviewer: Stewart Who?

Reviewed: 7th August 2026

North West End UK / Theatre Muse UK Rating: