Rigoletto @ The Dallas Opera
—Review by Gregory Sullivan Isaacs
Overheard on the excellent opening night performance of Verdi’s Rigoletto at The Dallas Opera: “All Verdi did was collect lots of popular songs and stitch them together.”
While that comment may bring smiles and chuckles, it touches on a truth about Verdi’s magic. Certainly Rigoletto is chock full of arias that have permeated the public culture, even for non-opera fans. But this tuneful masterpiece came first; its melodies caught on and became those “popular songs.” In fact, Verdi withheld the catchiest one of all (the tenor aria “La donna è mobile”) until just days before the premiere in 1851. He knew it wouldn’t take long before the tune was being sung in every café in Italy and beyond.
Before I dive into the details, let me state that TDO’s production ranks up there with some of the best opera productions of my experience. In order to succeed, opera requires so many elements working well together. The Dallas Opera’s co-production with Houston Grand Opera and The Atlanta Opera gets everything right—and this magical combination is now on stage at the Winspear Opera House.
The plot presents a basket of evils: Treachery, murder, philandering, revenge, and gross abuse of power by unaccountable rulers. The libretto is loosely based on Victor Hugo's highly controversial play Le roi s'amuse ("The king amuses himself"). To get by the censors, Le roi is tactfully demoted to the Duke of Mantua, a historic but long obsolete title. Rigoletto is the court jester to the womanizing Duke (René Barbera), whose amuse mostly consists of the seduction of any female who catches his fancy.
An aside: The court jester was a combination of a standup comedian and an irritating tease. Usually attached to royal households from the Middle Ages through the Renaissance, the jester's job was to entertain courtiers, hangers-on, and the many guests at court. Also, the jester (and no one else) was allowed to point out the flaws and foibles of the nobility, but only if the “digs” were presented as jokes.
The title role of Rigoletto is stunningly portrayed by baritone George Gagnidze in his Dallas Opera debut. His voice is wonderfully flexible, and used well for dramatic effect. Some operas swirl around the main character (Rigoletto is a prime example), and the success of the production depends heavily on the casting of that one critical role.
Portraying Rigoletto requires real acting and vocal chops. He is the Duke’s funnyman, who descends before our eyes from churlish comedian to a manic and murderous monster. Here, aided by his vocal gifts, Gagnidze really hits the mark, and then some. With his huge voice and overwhelming stage presence, he creates the necessary black hole around which all the action swirls. From the first time we see him to his final collapse, we believe he is the character that he is tasked to portray.
Rigoletto presents in ridiculous, clownish garb, and is deformed as well, with a hunch on his back that brings on much derision. But he has a precious secret: his tragically fated marriage produced a beautiful, young, and innocent daughter, Gilda. Knowing the sexual appetite of the Duke and the prankishness of the courtiers, he tucks her away, closely guarded by a nurse whose job is to assure her complete isolation.
Soprano Madison Leonard sings and acts the difficult role of Gilda with stunning perfection. Usually sung by thin-voiced coloratura soprani, Leonard brings a more substantial lyric voice to the role without sacrificing any of the anticipated virtuosic fireworks that are its hallmark.
Gilda is allowed to go out to church and it is there her troubles begin, when she catches the lusty gaze of none other than the Duke himself. Tenor Barbera (a San Antonio native), brings a bright Italianate sound with sure high notes—plus something rarely heard in this role, the ability to sing with a beautifully floating, soft, and focused sound.
But back to Gilda in church.
She doesn’t know the identity of her admirer, but even this momentary attention from a handsome young man makes her heart flutter. A simple bribe to the nurse grants the Duke admission to her boudoir to make his too-frequently proffered and false declaration of love.
At court, the rude courtiers play a prank on aging Count Monterone. Sung with tragic nobility by Nichols Newton (in another company debut), his deep, resonant voice conveys the Count’s distinguished stature. In a seminal plot event, the frivolous courtiers steal, seduce, and generally humiliate Monterone’s daughter. Enraged, he delivers a public curse (maledizione) on all of them, including Rigoletto for his crude attempts at levity.
This maledizione echoes in Rigoletto’s head and hangs heavily over the remainder of the opera.
The courtiers discover Gilda in her tower, and assume she is Rigoletto’s hidden mistress until they hear her call him “father.” With blindfolded Rigoletto’s unwitting help, they steal her away and deliver her to the clutches of her “true love”—the faithless Duke. Rigoletto traces her to court, rescues his already-deflowered daughter, and plans the murderous revenge that drives the opera to its violent end.
Rigoletto hires a low-life assassin, Sparafucile, sung with delicious depravity by TDO regular Raymond Aceto, to kill the Duke. He is aided by his tavern-wench sister Maddalena, sung with bad-girl sauciness by Nadia Krasteva. Her job is to distract the “unknown nobleman” (in reality the Duke) with her charms, until her brother can move in for the kill.
Sparafucile is being paid to deliver the Duke’s lifeless body to Rigoletto for dumping in the river, (like the bag of garbage that he is). Gilda and Rigoletto arrive outside the tavern, where Gilda overhears the Duke delivering his shopworn protestations of love to Maddalena. Yet Gilda still is madly in love with him.
In a glorious quartet—sung against a gathering storm with thunder and flashes of lightning—all four characters sing independent lines that express their wildly different feelings. When Gilda (dressed as a man to make her escape with Rigoletto) overhears Maddalena convince her brother to spare the Duke and instead kill the first man who enters the door (who cares what body he delivers to the jester?), Gilda sees a way to save her lover’s life, and in she goes.
With her last words (there must be last words in opera), Gilda begs her father to forgive the miscreants. And In a brilliant coup de théatre, director Tomer Zvulun has the statuesque ghost of Gilda’s mother, made almost transparent by the use of a scrim, slowly moving behind the tearful final scene.
Zvulun has set the action in 1920-ish Italy, which brings the particulars close, but not too close, to a comment on current political situations. At first, I was slightly put off by the identically white-tie-and-tails-clad courtiers. But why not? Courtiers are much the same, no matter where you encounter them. It brought to mind Gilbert and Sullivan’s identically clad “gentlemen of Japan” who open The Mikado.
Set designer Erhard Rom has created a huge center set piece painted in uniformly bland grays. It revolves to reveal four sides that create the different locations required by the plot. But its main effect is its sheer size, dwarfing the petty members of the court. Lighting designer Robert Wierzel’s subtle touch always highlights the action without calling undue attention to details. Jessica Jahn’s costumes allow Rigoletto’s brightly red-checkered clown garb to stand out in every situation. He is highly visible, yet isolated and set apart.
Music director Emmanuel Villaume conducts. His sense of tempi and balance is perfect. Further, his skill in subtly keeping with the sometimes errant singers is nearly invisible, even to the opera cognoscenti. Simply said, he is one of the best overall conductors on the scene today.
This is a production that will long be remembered for all kinds of reasons. Make sure you get a ticket and go see it.
WHEN: Remaining performances on October 12, 14, and 16
(October 16 matinee performance livestreamed on thedallasopera.TV , registration required; pay-what-you’re-able with a minimum ticket price of $9.99)
WHERE: Winspear Opera House
WEB: dallasopera.org
