Jonathan Tichler/Met Opera

Consider that Gioacchino Rossini was only 23 years old at the time of composition. Adapting the same Beaumarchais comedy as the veteran Paisiello had to great acclaim 34 years prior initially earned him the derision of the Roman public. Paisiello’s version has all but disappeared from the repertoire; the young composer’s chutzpah paid off in spades. The plot follows the antics of young lovers Rosina and Almaviva as they attempt to escape the geriatric tyranny of Dr. Bartolo, Rosina’s dodo of a guardian. They are aided by Figaro, the titular barber, whom Rosina describes as “un bravo giovinotto.” Rossini’s score propels the ensuing hilarity with unflagging energy, inventiveness, and an underlying horniness, capturing the unbowed spirits of its protagonists.

Though not yet in her thirties, Aigul Akhmetshina possesses a preternaturally developed sound. Her mezzo-soprano accommodates as many sumptuous hues as an amethyst-lined geode. As Rosina, she balanced this robustness of her sounds with a lightness to her coloratura, retaining the intricacies of Rossini’s vocal writing while infusing it with a sultriness that underscored the heroine’s precociousness. Her descents into her chest voice throughout “Una voce poco fa” were just as, if not more, exciting than her concluding high B. She was a winsome presence; her eyes sparkled with mischievous delight throughout “Dunque io son,” and her “Contro un cor che accende amor” crackled with both Rosina’s frustrations and determination.

Jonathan Tichler/Met Opera

Minnesota native Jack Swanson made his Metropolitan Opera debut as the lovestruck Almaviva. Despite a slightly rocky start, his performance here promised a bright future with the company. His honeyed tenor asserted itself after a halting “Ecco, ridente in cielo,” displaying remarkable consistency across his register and ringing out amid the opera’s many ensemble numbers. His soft singing sweetly shaped an earnest “Se il mio nome saper voi bramate.” He also displayed a thorough understanding of the stylistic and technical demands of “Cessa di più resistere” as he handled the aria’s notoriously complicated runs meticulously, punctuating them with carefully parsed dynamics. He and Akhetshina shared an easy chemistry, and he took full advantage of the opportunities for buffoonery in Almaviva’s various disguises. The audience’s reception was very enthusiastic.

As Figaro, Andrey Zhilikhovsky was perhaps less idiomatic than many of his colleagues onstage that evening. “Largo al factotum” was more a display of bluster than bravura; his diction and pitch were often imprecise, and his phrasing lacked the blend of elegance and comic glint that Rossini demands. Still, his sonorous baritone carried well, and he reigned it in appropriately during the recitative. Even if his vocal style sometimes left something to be desired, his Figaro still proved to be a charmer, thanks in large part to his onstage swagger and the vitality with which he imbued the character.

Jonathan Tichler/Met Opera

Yet, it wasn’t just the younger cast members who made an impression. In the fuddy-duddy corner, Peter Kálmán, also making his Met debut, was an appropriately skeevy Bartolo. He displayed keen comic timing during the recitatives and carried off the patter sections of “A un dottor dell amia sorte” with aplomb. Funnier still was Alexander Vinogradov as Don Basilio, proving that underplaying is often the key to comedy. There was nothing underplayed about his vocals during “La calunnia è un venticello,” however, as his bass-baritone thundered through Rossini’s signature crescendos.

Kathleen O’Mara’s pert soprano made for an unusually fresh Berta while Joseph Lim as Fiorello impressed with his bright baritone. Actor Jay Dunn was a hoot as Bartolo’s near-narcoleptic servant, his physicality often resembling that of a cockroach in rigor mortis as the chaos of the household repeatedly crashed down upon him.

Bartlett Sher’s production, directed in revival by Katheen Smith Belcher, combines a simple set consisting mainly of doors and potted orange trees with ample Looney Tunes-style antics and sight gags. The stage action could be a bit busy at times, but it elicited belly laughs all around. Conductor Giacomo Sagripanti led the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra in spirited reading of Rossini’s score, punctuating orchestral flourishes for their full comic effect. His tempi and the pacing of his dynamics were tight, conveying the score’s frenetic energy without sacrificing cohesiveness.