Smooth opera-tion

Let's face it – Rossini's The Barber of Seville and Mozart's Seraglio aren't a million miles apart. In the former, beautiful Rosina is rescued by dashing young Count Almaviva from the old, lecherous Don Bartolo, all comically masterminded by the titular barber. In the latter, the equally beautiful Konstanze is rescued from the Turkish Pasha's harem by the similarly dashing Belmonte, an escape comically hindered by brothel henchman, Osmin. So, it might seem a bit dull for Scottish Opera to open their 2007/08 season with a pair of comedies, each singing similar songs of intrigue, disguise and hypocrisy. In fact, these two brilliantly different operatic stagings are anything but.

Resisting the temptation to stuff old favourites into modern costumes, Scottish Opera's new production of The Barber of Seville is lavish in its recreation of a 17th century Sevillian town house. Rosina's bedroom is particularly well conceived, the wrought ironwork forming a cage from which the soprano (Karen Cargill) physically and vocally bursts out in her opening aria. Sergio La Stella's conducting is wonderfully restrained, allowing the music to show up it's own delightful campness rather than forcing slapstick humour. It works – the production is extremely funny.

An untimely illness and lack of an understudy tonight means that the part of Count Almaviva is sung instead by Seraglio lead Eric Laporte from the wings while the assistant director, Dafydd Burne-Jones walks the part on stage. After a bit of getting used to it's not actually that bizarre and Laporte shows superb control over the fiendishly difficult coloratura runs. But the duets involving off-stage Almaviva just aren't as spectacular as those between Figaro (Thomas Oliemans) and Rosina. It's a shame, because Oliemans is on magnificent form tonight, commanding the stage precisely as Rossini's factotum should, aided by a magnificently spivvy moustache and some brilliant vocal acting.

While the dramatic carry-on might not be groundbreaking, it's the truly inventive staging which transforms Seraglio into a striking production. The square of white sand which dominates an otherwise sparse set serves visually as a blank canvas upon which the action takes place. It's just a pain that sand is acoustically deadening. But in its evocation of the exoticism of foreign shores, and the fantastical moral and musical possibilities this alienation allows, the sandy stage is well worth a bit of ear straining.

It's easy to see why Seraglio isn't performed quite as often as The Barber of Seville. A 'singspiel,' or 'song-play' rather than a bona fide opera, the aria are connected by spoken exchanges rather than the more openly operatic recitativo. The result is a slightly clunky hybrid between song and drama – the spoken dialogue nudges at the frankly odd operatic convention that characters sing at each other. Tonight's translation does little to help here, offering an awkward mix of formal English with a smattering of colloquialisms: "bitch" and "mate" are particularly poorly weighted.

Musically, however, the production is superb: conductor Jeremy Carnall's handling of the changes between Mozart's fast, fluid lines and the military music of the Turks is invariably sensitive. Special mention goes to bass Dimitry Ivashchenko (Osmin) who plunges down to some of the lowest notes in the operatic repertoire with utmost confidence and without any daft warbling. Clearly, it's nothing in half measures for the opening of Scottish Opera's 2007/08 season. Except for the cut price under-26 tickets.