Rigelotto: Reviewed by Murray Dahm
Giuseppe Verdi’s Rigoletto (1851) was the composer’s sixteenth opera.
Often, it is described as a middle-Verdi masterpiece and, whilst it is indeed a masterpiece – something the performance on Tuesday night reiterated – it is the ‘middle’ which has always bothered me. The compartmentalising of an artist’s output into periods has always struck me as problematic. Verdi wrote twenty-seven operas (although several survive in more than one version which some count as entirely separate operas); his first (Oberto) coming in November 1839 and his last (Falstaff) in 1893.
As such, Rigoletto is only twelve years into a more-than-fifty-year compositional career. It also fell into the period which Verdi later self-described as his years as a ‘galley slave’. Looking back on his own career, he could therefore excuse some of his operas for being less well-received than others and, perhaps, for being less well made. This view is problematic too (and one made by Verdi with the benefit of hindsight) – the other two middle-Verdi masterpieces are Il Trovatore (1853) and La traviata (1853) – both stalwarts of the opera repertoire and yet La traviata was, initially, a huge disaster, and Il Trovatore’s convoluted plot remains the butt of many jokes about opera being incomprehensible. Of course, Verdi’s music in all three operas is sublime, but the success or not of his works was far from assured even when he wrote them. What is more, other Verdi works (such as those immediately preceding Rigoletto (Luisa Miller, (1849), Stiffelio (1850)) and following La traviata (Les vêpres siciliennes (1853), Simon Boccanegra (1855)) have shown that even the works which did not achieve such fame as the ‘big three’ are, nonetheless, wonderful opera. All of which is to say that nearly all Verdi is worth exploring. And if the performances of them are anywhere near as good as they were in Tuesday night’s Rigoletto at the Sydney Opera House, you are in for a revelatory experience!
Ernesto Petti as Rigoletto and the Opera Australia Chorus in Opera Australia’s 2023 production of Rigoletto at the Sydney Opera House Photo Credit: Keith Saunders
I have seen Elijah Moshinsky’s production of Rigoletto several times, both here and in New Zealand. It made its premiere in 1991 but shows none of its age – it is a venerable thirty-two years old! Moshinsky’s updates the original 16th century setting of Mantua to a 1950s mafia story inspired by Federico Fellini’s 1960 film La Dolce Vita. Although his was not the first ‘mafia’ update to Rigoletto (that distinction goes to Jonathan Miller’s 1982 English National Opera production), Moshinsky’s proves the viability of exploring ‘updates’ to operatic productions. Ably revived by director Shane Placentino (and assisted by Warwick Doddrell), only a few aspects differed from the earlier revivals I have seen. The ducal palace and use of a Fiat Bambina in the final act elicited the usual appreciative gasps. For most of us, we have no idea of autocratic absolute monarchy – where a ruler could do as he wished almost without accountability. To update this to a mafia Don who can act in almost the same way, makes the story entirely explicable to a modern audience. Indeed, with more recent television such as The Sopranos or even Entourage, the story as presented is almost instantly accessible. Even the idea of a court Jester (Rigoletto) and toadying courtiers with whom he has an adversarial relationship is made entirely understandable. What is more, these are, unfortunately, behaviours we instantly can recognize in the politicians and others powerful figures of today, both here and overseas. And, of course, that is why opera can remain a highly relevant art form. My only quibble production-wise was that the follow spots were occasionally a bit patchy.
Having seen this production with different casts about nine times since 1994 (when I saw it in New Zealand with John Bolton Wood as Rigoletto and Angela Taverner as Gilda), it can still offer new insights. One I took from performance this was the opportunity for, and beauty of, the soft singing. The chorus phrase (‘O tu che la festa audace’ “Oh you who dared disturb our pleasure”) after Monterone first issues his curse in act one, was sung spine-chillingly softly. It is marked sotto voce in the score, but I have not heard or seen it done as effectively as this. Similarly, the oft-repeated phrase of Rigoletto ‘Quel vecchio maledivami’ (“That old man cursed me”) was, when first repeated, sung gloriously softly. Credit for these go to conductor Renato Palumbo who ably led the Opera Australia Orchestra and the singers for implementing such choices. I didn’t agree with all Palumbo’s choices, however, – I thought the father-daughter duet in Act I ‘Ah! veglia, o donna, questo fiore’ (“Ah! Woman guard this pure flower”) was a little too four-square and the great Rigoletto aria in Act II ‘Cortigiani, vil razza dannata’ (“You courtiers, vile accursed race”) was taken just a little too fast. The tenor also seemed to want his first two arias taken a touch slower than Palumbo started them. But these were only minor observations and did not detract in any way from my enjoyment of the playing and the singing.
Stacey Alleaume as Gilda in Opera Australia’s 2019 production of Rigoletto Photo Credit: Jeff Busby
Ah, the singing. Where to start. Since it is Rigoletto’s show, I shall start with the Rigoletto of Italian baritone Ernesto Petti although I could just as easily start with the sublime Stacey Alleaume as Gilda. Petti began the show in mime during the Prelude, drawing us in to his heartache and then introducing us to the world of the Duke. Petti sang exquisitely in the soft passages and ably in the loud ones but seemed to have some issues transitioning between the two in Act I – it may have been a slight frog in his throat or overcoming illness, but all signs of frog or ill-health were banished in the second half in which he was magnificent. It did seem to affect his Act I aria ‘Pari siamo’ (“We are alike”) and perhaps was the cause of a lack of snarl in his interactions with the courtiers. I mentioned before some details which were not present in this revival – Petti’s Rigoletto did not stumble and drop his walking cane as he approached his house. This was always a wonderful moment as the stage was revolving towards him when this stumble occurred and there was always a cry in the audience as they thought the performer really had stumbled and was in actual danger. This was, however, repeated, across several productions (showing it was a deliberate piece of psychodrama) but was not present here. Rigoletto’s cry which closed Act I: ‘Ah! La maledizione!’ (“Ah! It’s the curse!” – after his daughter has been abducted by the courtiers (who mistakenly believe it to be his lover) was a strong way to end Act I (but was overshadowed by his voluminous and spine-tingling cry of the same line at the end of the whole opera). In Act II and III, Petti came into his own, and sang and acted magnificently; as he fell on his knees and then crawled down the stairs appealing to the courtiers to give him back his daughter, he was heart-breaking. Perhaps, as Rigoletto is a hunchback and is aided by a walking cane, Petti could have walked with more of a stoop – but this is a minor criticism. Everything in Act II and III was superb and, since much of it involved his singing with Gilda, Rigoletto’s daughter, we can include her now too.
When Stacey Alleaume began her Act I aria ‘Caro nome’ (“Dearest name”) a palpable hush fell on the audience and remained throughout. She sang it magnificently and, had you left during the interval would have been satisfied with her Gilda. That, however, would have meant you missed the glories which awaited you in Act II and III. More than the singing, however, the characterisation of the young teenager in love and willing to sacrifice herself for an (undeserving) man was exquisitely drawn – especially in the Act I love duet (‘che m’ami, deh, ripetimi’ “Oh tell me again that you love me”) but also in the Act II aria and father-daughter duet (‘Tutte le festa a tempio’ “Every Sunday in Church”) after she has been seduced. That aria and duet were moving but the highlight of the night was the interpolated high note (E flat?) which closed Act II; absolutely thrilling. Singing beside her, Petti was not overshadowed however, both of them rising to the (literal) heights of operatic glory together. That kind of hair-on-end thrills which carries people into the stratosphere with it is why people love opera – and if you don’t understand it, you’d have instantly understood if you had experienced it! I read later that Alleaume had been unwell but there were absolutely no signs on Tuesday night. I loved the famous quartet in Act II ‘Bella figlia dell’amore’ (“Lovely daughter of pleasure”) where Rigoletto tries to show Gilda the kind of man the Duke is (Gilda still loves him). I especially appreciated that the quartet ended softly (no high note for the soprano here – but I have always thought the drama did not call for it). The trio which follows, where Gilda resolves to die for her undeserving lover, was equally thrilling with high notes aplenty.
Brazilian tenor Atalla Ayan sang with glorious tone throughout the night and acted all parts of the Duke convincingly. He actually sang the aria which opens Act I ‘Quest o quella’ (“This woman or that”) – often it can be barked more than sung. Perhaps he pushed a little and was slightly rough on the very top. Similarly in the duet with Gilda but, again, he sang that and the Act II aria ‘Ella mi fu rapita’ (“She was stolen from me”) splendidly. He also began the famous Act III aria ‘La donna è mobile’ (“Woman is wayward”) well. An incredible pity then that he attempted the high B at the end of the aria and came nowhere near it. What should have been met with rapturous applause was met with a subdued response that he had missed a single note. When he then sang the quartet his voice was again strong and full so there seemed no sign of vocal difficulty. He attempted the high B again in the reprise and again missed. Two missed high notes in about an hour of otherwise wonderful singing should not affect an audience’s response but it did – opera audiences can be so unforgiving. He had not attempted the optional high notes earlier (such as in the cabaletta to ‘Ella mi fu rapita’) so one wonders why he attempted them in the last aria. This should have been a triumph for Ayan as much as it was for Alleaume and Petti but it was marred by those two notes. If those two notes are sung with the same tone and body of voice as the rest of his work for the remainder of the season, Ayan will be able add his Duca to the glory of Alleaume’s Gilda and Petti’s Rigoletto.
Roberto Scandiuzzi was resonant and menacing, and physically imposing, as the perfidious assassin Sparafucile – the low F at the end of his introduction was beautiful and long-held. Another revelation for me in that scene with Rigoletto was he actually sings a higher note than Rigoletto’s baritone, presaging that he will be the winner in the end. I really enjoyed the interaction between Scandiuzzi and Sian Sharpe’s Maddalena, his sister, although she could have been more ‘into’ the Duke during the quartet and perhaps a little more desperate to save him. Her Giovanna (Gilda and Rigoletto’s housekeeper) was a complete change of character from the later Maddalena – great to see such variety in the one performer in the one performance.
All the smaller parts were well taken – special note to Anthony Mackey’s Count Ceprano who made me take more notice of this character than I have before. And to David Parkin’s Monterone – again a role which can be overlooked but his delivery of the curse in Act I was highly effective. I especially liked all the small details of the acting and interactions from the men’s chorus who sang everything with gusto (or the beautiful sottovoce I mentioned earlier).
This Rigoletto runs until June 26 and performed as it was on Tuesday night, a perfect night at the opera for new and old. If the small things which need fixing are seen to, it could well be a night to remember and one which will be talked about for the next thirty-two years.
Opera Australia
Sydney Opera House
June 13th
