Jokes about the election, Donald Rumsfeld's resignation, and Faith Hill's on-camera outburst at the Country Music Awards were the main talking points of David Letterman's opening monologue and Top Ten list Wednesday night. But things got a bit more high-brow when the cast, chorus, and orchestra of the Met's new production of Rossini's Barber of Seville took over Letterman's signature blue floor to perform the opera's Act I finale for a national TV audience.

The appearance on the Late Show with David Letterman came on the heels of the production's final dress rehearsal at the opera house. When the curtain came down on that performance, the cast and chorus—still in costume—were immediately whisked to the Ed Sullivan Theater on West 53rd Street for a TV rehearsal, then taping, joined by the orchestra, in white tie and black tails, and conductor Maurizio Benini.

Peter Mattei was having his makeup touched up in a dressing room reserved for Dustin Hoffman, another show guest. "It's very cool," the Swedish baritone, who stars as Figaro, said of the late-night gig. "You can call your friends who know nothing about opera, but they know Letterman. It's high-stakes."

A few paces away, tenor Juan Diego Flórez and soprano Diana Damrau were milling about in a stairwell. "Do you know the cuts?" asked Damrau about the abbreviated scene they'd be performing. "I forgot it," she said, unperturbed. A music assistant appeared with Xeroxed pages of the score, and the singers began studying it.

"It's great promotion for the opera," Flórez said of Letterman. "I think the audience will love it, because this scene—it's crazy music."

"It's a new experience," Damrau said. "And to be in costume and so close to the audience—they're not used to it. It's so new."

Nearby, bass-baritone John Del Carlo chatted with Damrau's kid brother, visiting from Germany. "Is it your first time in New York?" he asked.

"My first time in New York—my first time in America!" he replied.

"I can't wait for a hot bath," said Flórez.

"I can't breathe!" said Damrau, as a costumer secured her corset.

"Hello, Big Man," Flórez said to his co-star Mattei, who suddenly appeared.

"Where do we go?" the towering baritone asked.

On to the studio, where the orchestra would join the singers from the subterranean green room where they'd been stationed and where the chorus would arrive, emerging from a pair of winnebagos parked on 53rd Street.

Met General Manager Peter Gelb and Barber director Bartlett Sher were on hand in the studio, kept at near-frigid temperatures, to help orchestrate the rehearsal. "I feel like it's a scene from My Favorite Year," Gelb said, surveying the hectic scene.

"It's like Fellini," Sher replied.

"Peter Mattei's one condition for coming to this was that we had to give him chicken soup," Gelb joked. Damrau kept a leather jacket with fur trim draped over her shoulders, Mattei had a sweatshirt on over his costume, and Flórez kept a handkerchief over his mouth when not singing to ward off illness. Paul Shaffer and the house band played a Herbie Hancock song, and Del Carlo danced along.

"Sam, your collar!" a costumer called out to bass Samuel Ramey whose collar had somehow managed to invert itself inside the singer's jacket. Ramey laughed and fixed it. "That would have been a good look."

Sher called the singers to the front of the performance area and lined them up in front of six microphones, adjusting their positions and giving last-minute notes. Stage managers with headsets swarmed the stage. "This is larger than what we normally do," said Letterman talent coordinator Jackie Waldman of the operatic scenario. "But that's why we love it, and why it's exciting!"

"Pretend you're in a rock band!" Sher said to the singers. "A crazy rock band."

Mezzo-soprano Wendy White laughed. "A rock band. Yeah, we're Abba!"

The rehearsal began in earnest. Gelb watched a monitor and made camera suggestions. Sher conducted in the aisles. Longtime Letterman bandleader Shaffer watched from the side of the stage. "I'm a fan of anything as excellent as this," he said of the musical performance. "As soon as these people hit the stage, they give you perfection. It's inspiring. It's a big coup to have them on our show."

"I'm not all that knowledgeable about opera," Shaffer went on. "Rock and roll is what I gravitate toward. But the second I heard those strings, I knew we had something here. This is thrilling for me."

The performers ran through the scene a few times, and the rehearsal was done. The audience, waiting anxiously outside, was let in.

First guest: Hoffman, who made jokes about opera singers getting lucky. "They score!" he said. "I don't know how they do it…"

Next up: chef Jamie Oliver. With Dave's help, he prepared spaghetti alla carbonara. He'd just had an animated exchange about the dish with Juan Diego Flórez, who lives in Italy and has strong opinions about pasta. Gelb, Sher, Benini, and other Met staffers waited in the green room, talking about Borat.

And then, the performance itself. A 22-piece orchestra, 16 members of the chorus, and six of the world's top bel canto soloists, unleashing rapid-fire Rossinian vocalism for a dazzled audience. In two and a half minutes, it was over. The singers departed, the chorus and orchestra were bussed back to the Met for the evening's performance of Madama Butterfly, and opera's full-scene debut on Letterman was in the bag. Next up: opening night. —Matt Dobkin 

Photo Information:

• Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera