The story is set perhaps a few hundred years ago in northern
Italy, centering on a widower, embittered by his hunchback deformity and
empowered by his sharp, barbed tongue, who labors in degrading work as a court
jester to a licentious Duke. While he
gets back at the courtiers who mock him by encouraging the Duke’s abuse of
their wives and daughters, he fails in his efforts to protect his own young,
beautiful, and naïve daughter from those very same predatory men.
Parent-child relationships are not commonly the main focus in
Italian opera, but they often are with Verdi.
His only two children died in infancy, and he lost his first wife soon
after that. He almost did not recover
from those blows, but later he explored parents and children in his work. In Rigoletto,
a father-daughter relationship is central to the tragedy, and the complex
father-son relationship in Sicilian
Vespers and the very complex mother-son relationship in Trovatore also come quickly to
mind.
One theme of the opera is hubris, or what goes around comes
around. When confronted by an aristocrat
who objects to the Duke’s violation of his daughter, Rigoletto mocks him and
encourages the Duke to execute him. The
jester is shaken to the bone, however, when that aggrieved father places a
curse on him. The opera's original
title, in fact, was La Maledizione – The
Curse. In Verdi’s time, a curse in such
circumstances was for some a thing to be frightened of, and it comes to
fruition when Rigoletto’s daughter Gilda herself is seduced and then violated
by his employer the Duke. Then the
overprotected Gilda, filled with foolish, reckless, and thoughtless passion,
sacrifices her life to save the Duke, whom she has already learned to be
unfaithful to her, from an assassin hired by her father.
Deception, and its tragic consequences, is another element
of the story. The jester hides his
occupation from his daughter, while she hides her budding romance with the mysterious
stranger who turns out to be the Duke. The
Duke deceives Gilda by pretending to be an impoverished student, and is himself
deceived by the assassin’s accomplice and sister, who lures him into the
trap. The assassin attempts to deceive
Rigoletto when he delivers the wrong body.
The emotional range of Rigoletto is a key part of the
opera’s impact. His most touching music fills
the tender moments between father and daughter, contrasting sharply with his
harshness when singing to his courtier enemies and his terror when begging for
the safe return of his abducted daughter.
The music of the characters is more intertwined than in many
of Verdi’s past operas, with fewer set pieces easily segregated from the
surrounding action and other characters.
Per Wikipedia: “Musicologist Julian Budden regards the opera as ‘revolutionary’:
.... ‘the barriers between formal melody and recitative are down as never
before. In the whole opera, there is
only one conventional double aria [...and there are...] no concerted act
finales.’ Verdi used that same word – ‘revolutionary’
– in a letter to [librettist] Piave, [and in another letter Verdi wrote] ‘I
conceived Rigoletto almost without
arias, without finales but only an unending string of duets.’”
Of course, having said all that, one must acknowledge that
one of the most recognizable arias in all of opera is the Duke’s La donna e mobile (in the singular, but
better translated as “women are fickle”).
In fact, as the story goes, Verdi recognized that he tune was so catchy he
feared that the opera’s cast would be humming it around Venice and reveal it before
the premier, so he kept a tight lid on it until the first show. The Duke has, in fact, not one but three arias, one other of which, Questa o quella, is also commonly heard. But the real special music in Rigoletto is that between father and daughter.
The set was in the budget-friendly, semi-abstract, minimalist
style so common these days, but it had great visual impact and served to reinforce
the theme of varying perspectives. In
this case, though, as is often the case, the single main set did not provide enough
visual clue as to exactly where the action was taking place; was that scene in
a palace, or on a street, or in an apartment?
Those in the audience familiar with the plot knew what was going on, but
if prior study is a prerequisite for understanding and thus enjoyment, opera
may struggle even more to expand its audience.
The set notwithstanding, the Lyric hit a home run with this
latest staging. The singing was wonderful. Baritone Quinn Kelsey in the title role and
tenor Matthew Polenzani as the rapacious Duke, both alums of the Lyric’s training
center, were very strong in their roles.
Latvian mezzo-soprano Zanda Svede was also quite notable as the
assassin’s accomplice Maddalena, who joins the main three in the opera’s
celebrated quartet, beautifully sung in this production.
And then there’s one Rosa Feola, a young Italian soprano in
her Lyric debut as Rigoletto’s daughter Gilda.
Not since I saw future Hall-of-Famer Greg Maddux pitch for the Cubs as
an unknown rookie over three decades ago have I had such a strong “star is
born” feeling. I expect we’ll hear a
great deal about this remarkable young performer in the years to come.
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