Anchorage Opera's most recent undertaking, "The Barber of Seville", will at the same time, make you forget your troubles and make you forget you are at an opera. About the only reminder of operatic protocol will be the white, stuffy wig worn by Bartolo -- and even that gets ditched in the third act. "How can this be opera?", you will find yourself saying -- I'll tell you how.

Stage director Bill Fabris' genious combined with Rossini's brilliance makes for an unforgettable evening of perfectly timed choreography, dramatic finales, and intensly technical singing. Anyone who knows anything about Rossini understands that to sing his compositions requires an extremely accurate, light instrument capable of moving effortlessly through lightning quick scales, arpeggios, and florid passages.

This is no Wagner. Heck, this isn't even close to Puccini. No big tear jerker, sentimental, soaring string parts here. The pull of Rossini is the excitment, the brilliant pairing of comedy and music, and the "Rossini crescendo" -- a gradual adding of instruments at the end of a movement that culminates in a massive chorus of sound and that oh-so-exciting finish that catapults you out of your seat into frenetic applause. (Actually, I'm of the opinion that it's a cheap trick to make you forget the other cheap tricks he used in order to finish the opera in 10 days, but who asked me!)

In any case, the cast of "Barber" won't let you down. In this male heavy cast -- there are only two female parts -- beloved Alaskan soprano Kate Egan (Rosina) successfully fends off the old Dr Bartolo while laying the charm on the Count and conspiring with Figaro. As if she didn't have enough to do with babysitting three men, she pulls off two arias of indescribable difficulty while patting her head and rubbing her tummy. Her easy, free stage presence is complimented by an equally free, red satin voice effortlessly gliding throughout a range of three octaves. Impressive by all standards.

Mr. Robinson's Dr. Bartolo is enriched by his colorful baritone voice and quirky idiosynchrises. Having played the role several times throughout the U.S., his performance is ripe with detailed nuances that only comes with having truly lived with a role for some time. Bartolo's cohort in crime is the conniving Don Basilio and played expertly creepy by bass Won Cho, whose deep tones vibrate the seats of the Discovery Theater.

Local mezzo Nancy Caudill (Bertha) plays about the only role in opera where it's acceptable to have a cold while singing. She gets her day in the sun with an aria in Act III and it's a delight to hear her pinpoint accuracy and full, round high notes. Dillon McCartney shines as the Count Almaviva with a cutting, lyric tenor voice and masterful disguises. It is unfortunate that the most vocally stimulating and orgasmic parts of the tenor arias were cut due to time constraints, but what is left of the mangled tenor role will leave you wishing for more of his light, lyric style.

Last, but certainly not least, Mr. Taylor. He seems to have been born for the part of Figaro. Does this guy ever stop? His high-octane, 400-horse power energy seems to propel the opera in an ever forward motion and brings life to even the most mundane of scenes -- this will greatly reduce the chances of the dreaded opera-inducing snooze. In case you aren't a snobby opera buff, it's worth the ticket price just to hear a live performance of the famed aria "Largo"......any bells go off yet???.....ok, here's a hint: Fiiiiiiiiiigaro, Figaro, Figaro, Figaro, Figaro, Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigaro!