For the past several years one couldn’t find a production of Giuseppe Verdi’s Rigoletto outside of a “new and improved interpretation”, usually set in a time and place closer to our own. The reasoning was that such a reinterpretation made it easier for the “boobus Americani” to see how the themes of the work relate to our own lives. In the process a musical and theatrical masterpiece endured artistic butchery and disrespect.
The genius of the current production at the lyric Opera is that its eschews interpretation, or rather returns to the oldest way of staging an opera – do it as the author wanted , to the best of your ability.
That was certainly the method when Rigoletto first came to Chicago in 1858.
Verdi’s Rigoletto was barely eight years old when it played at Chicago’s two-year old McVicker’s theater at 25 West Madison. Before the opera even began, the audience enjoyed a visual treat in the theater itself. The Weekly Chicago Times claimed,
“Mr. McVicker has combined everything that could be desired to make a theatre pleasant and comfortable to the audience, and amply commodious for the actors; the means of entrance and exit are so arranged that the building can be emptied in a very few minutes; the means of entrance is through a spacious vestibule; the auditorium is eighty-live feet square; the dress circle will seat eight hundred persons; the parquette two hundred more; while fifteen hundred more can find seats in the upper tier; the seats are all comfortably and richly cushioned; the lobbies are handsomely carpeted and furnished with sofas and mirrors; the whole building, accommodating 2000 patrons, is amply ventilated, and heated by steam; the extreme size of the stage is 60 by 80 feet.; the space between the proscenium boxes is 32 feet. All parts of the theatre are brilliantly illuminated by beautiful chandeliers.”
The cast assembled for Czech impresario and conductor Maurice Strakosh (1825-1887)’s Grand Italian Opera Troupe was made of many of the New York singers who had debuted the opera. The American musical theater diva Patti LuPone’s great-grandmother, the beautiful Amalia Patti (1836-1915), the sister of the world famous soprano Adelina Patti, played Madddalena, and Amalia’s half brother, baritone Ettore Barili, played the title character as he had when he debuted the opera at New York’s Academy of Music. The cast was rounded out by Cora De Wilhorst (1835-1880) playing Gilda and Henry Squires the Duke.
Two years after the 1851 world premiere of Rigoletto at La Fenice in Venice, Verdi summarized his opera in words which seem to pertain to almost every production of the opera:
As far as dramatic effectiveness is concerned, it seems to me that the best material I have yet put to music (I’m not speaking of literary or poetic worth) is Rigoletto. It has the most powerful dramatic situations, it has variety, vitality, pathos; all the dramatic developments result from the frivolous, licentious character of the Duke. Hence Rigoletto’s fears, Gilda’s passion, etc., which give rise to the many dramatic situations, including the scene of the quartet which, so far as effect is concerned, will always be one of the finest our theaters can boast.
The Italian libretto was written by Francesco Maria Piave, based on the 1832 play Le roi s’amuse by Victor Hugo. However, Piave’s depiction of a venal, cynical, womanizing king (Francis I of France) was considered unacceptably scandalous. The play had been banned in France following its premiere nearly twenty years earlier. Now it was to come before the Austrian Board of Censors ( Austria then directly controlled much of Northern Italy.) Historian Edward Dent believes “it is quite possible that Verdi chose it for this very reason, much as Mozart chose Le Mariage de Figaro, because it was a play that had been forbidden, ostensibly on moral grounds.”[i]
Despite their best efforts, including frantic correspondence with La Fenice, the Austrian censor De Gorzkowski emphatically denied consent to the production of “La Maledizione”, “The Curse”‘ as it was then known. In a December 1850 letter, he called the opera “a repugnant [example of] immorality and obscene triviality.” However, by January 1851 the parties had settled on a compromise
Carlo Marazai, the representative of the theater, conveyed, the conditions:
“The colours and the original characters that you want will be kept….The character substituted for Fransisco [the King] can be a libertine and absolute ruler of his state. The buffoon can be deformed, as you want. There will be no problem about the sack, and the only reservation is that we will have to treat the kidnapping of the buffoon’s daughter in a way that conforms to the demands for decency on stage.”[ii]
The action of the opera would be moved, and some of the characters would be renamed. In the new version, the Duke would preside over Mantua and belong to the safe Gonzaga family. (The House of Gonzaga had long been extinct by the mid-19th century, and the Dukedom of Mantua no longer existed.) The scene in which the Duke retired to Gilda’s bedroom would be deleted, and his visit to the inn would no longer be intentional, but the result of a trick.
By 14 January, the opera’s definitive title had become Rigoletto. The one demand which was non-negotiable was the change of the title of the opera from The Curse, “La Maledizione”.
The opera premiered in a sold-out La Fenice, as the first part of a double bill with a ballet. Gaetano Mares conducted, and the sets were designed and executed by Giuseppe Bertoja and Francesco Bagnara. The opening night was a complete triumph, especially the scena drammatica and the Duke’s “La donna è mobile“, which was sung in the streets the next morning. (Verdi had maximized the aria’s impact by only revealing it to the cast and orchestra a few hours before the premiere, and forbidding them to sing, whistle or even think of the melody outside of the theatre) Many years later, Giulia Cora Varesi, the daughter of Felice Varesi (the original Rigoletto), described her father’s performance at the premiere. Varesi was very uncomfortable with the false hump he had to wear; he was so uncertain that, even though he was quite an experienced singer, he had a panic attack when it was his turn to enter the stage. Verdi immediately realized he was paralyzed and roughly pushed him onto the stage, so he appeared with a clumsy tumble. The audience, thinking it was an intentional gag, was very amused.
Rigoletto was a great box-office success for La Fenice and Verdi’s first major Italian triumph since the 1847 premiere of Macbeth in Florence. It initially had a run of 13 performances and was revived in Venice the following year, and again in 1854. Despite a rather disastrous production in Bergamo shortly after its initial run at La Fenice, the opera soon entered the repertory of Italian theatres. By 1852, it had premiered in all the major cities of Italy, although sometimes under different titles due to the vagaries of censorship From 1852, it also began to be performed in major cities worldwide, reaching as far afield as Alexandria and Constantinople in 1854 and both Montevideo and Havana in 1855. The British premiere took place on 14 May 1853 at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden in London with Giovanni Matteo Mario as the Duke and Giorgio Ronconi as Rigoletto. In the US, the opera was first seen on 19 February 1855 at New York’s Academy of Music in a performance led by the Max Maretzek ( 1821 –1897) Italian Opera Company.
The Chicago director clarifies the straight-forward plot, too often mangled with modern “improvements.” While at a party at his palace, the lecherous Duke of Mantua (Javier Camerena) expresses his desire to meet a young woman he has recently seen at church, but soon afterward sets his romantic sights on seducing the Countess Ceprano (Adia Evans). As the Duke and the Countess leave together, her husband is mocked and humiliated by the court jester, Rigoletto (Igor Golovatenko)
Seeking revenge on Rigoletto, Count Ceprano (Christopher Humbert Jr.) is interested to learn from the nobleman Marullo (Sankara Harouna) that Rigoletto keeps a woman in his home. The elderly nobleman Count Monterone (Andrew Manea) suddenly interrupts the party to defend the honor of his daughter, who has been ravished by the Duke. Rigoletto mocks Monterone’s anger, and the enraged father responds by cursing both the Duke and his jester, Rigoletto.
Outside the palace later that night, the assassin Sparafucile (Solomon Howard) confronts Rigoletto. Rigoletto sends him away, but compares his own biting tongue to an assassin’s sword. When he arrives home, he is greeted by his daughter Gilda (Mane Galoyan), whom he has kept secluded there since the death of her mother. Rigoletto leaves Gilda in the care of her maid, Giovanna. Soon afterwards, the Duke, disguised as a student, sneaks into the house and tells Gilda that he loves her. Gilda, who has noticed the disguised Duke following her home from church, returns his affections, and they bid each other farewell. Outside, Ceprano and a group of the Duke’s courtiers are gathering to abduct Gilda — whom they believe to be Rigoletto’s mistress — in order to gain revenge on the jester. The courtiers blindfold Rigoletto and fool him into letting them into his own house. They depart with Gilda. Rigoletto hears her cries and removes the blindfold, but he is too late to save her, and he is left alone to remember Monterone’s curse.
Having discovered that Gilda is missing, the Duke laments losing her. However, he soon learns that she was abducted his own courtiers, and he excitedly leaves to see her. Rigoletto enters, searching for Gilda, but he is turned away by the unconcerned courtiers. Gilda enters and tearfully tells her father about her flirtation with the duke and her abduction. As Rigoletto consoles his daughter, he watches as Monterone is led towards his prison cell. Rigoletto swears to Monterone that the Duke’s crimes against both of their daughters will be avenged.
Rigoletto brings Gilda to the home of the assassin Sparafucile, whom he has hired to kill the Duke. Gilda is forced to watch from the outside as the Duke, no longer disguised as her lover, seduces Maddalena (Zoie Reams) , the assassin’s sister. After sending Gilda away, Rigoletto finalizes his arrangements with Sparafucile; he will return at midnight to accept the body and dispose of it. Against her father’s wishes, Gilda returns and listens as Maddalena begs her brother not to kill the Duke. Sparafucile initially refuses, but relents and tells his sister that he will kill whoever arrives at the inn before Rigoletto returns. Gilda decides to allow herself be killed in place of her lover, knocks on the door, and is stabbed by Sparafucile.
Rigoletto returns at midnight, and is presented with a body in a sack. As he leaves, he hears the voice of the Duke singing in the distance. He opens the bag to find the dying body of his daughter. She dies in the arms of her father, who cries that Monterone’s curse has been fulfilled.
The current Lyric production is directed by Mary Birnbaum, the general director of Opera Saratoga, who heroically sets the opera where Verdi wanted it: in sixteenth-century Mantua. The perfect atmosphere is created by the stunning settings by Robert Innes Hopkins. As illuminated by Lyric veteran designer Duane Schuler they assume a faded Caravaggio aspect. Birnbaum ‘s staging should be mandatory viewing for all would-be stage directors. She seamlessly employs Alexander Dean’s five fundamental elements of play direction to intimate scenes and crowd scenes alike. In addition, Ms. Birnbaum uses novel but appropriate properties which, through use, reveal the dynamic changes in character relationships. Most impressive is the way in which the action never seems to lag as the stage visuals are in complete sync with the beautiful and dramatic rendering of Verdi’s score by Maestro Mazzola and the Lyric orchestra. The music is so appropriate to this production that Mazzola’s rendering casts the familiar music as fresh as today.
Jane Greenwood’s costumes are elegant and appropriate to the time and place and charccter, She does jump the shark however with a winged Angel off Gilda’s mother coming to take her to heaven. The mother alone, wingless, would have neen sufficient.
Victor Hugo claimed that he wanted Shakespearean characters to populate his drama. In Birnbaum’s Rigoletto we find Rigoletto himself a kind of Richard III in the early scenes, only to become a woebegone King Lear as the tragedy ends.
The cast is near perfect. the Russian baritone Igor Golovatebko makes Rigoletto a human being rather than a commedia cartoon and the results are overwhelming. He centers the action along with his daughter Gilda as magnificently played by Mane Galoyan. Mexican tenor Javier Camarena makes his overdue Lyric debut as the Duke of Mantua and shows his tenor voice is even more glorious live in person than it was on HD broadcast from the Met when he played Tonio in The Daughter of the Regiment to unprecedented encores.
The first performance of an opera season is social in that the national anthem starts the festivities. Such was the case last evening at the Lyric Opera, as all stood hands over hearts or saluting, all proudly singing, embracing and saluting opera as a vital part of our national fabric. The audience showed its appreciation for this Rigoletto throughout, breaking into the action with cheers and applause to a seemingly unprecedented extent, only to offer a thunderous extended ovation at the curtain calls.
i Edward Dent. Opera. Penguin Books, 1940. p. 87.
ii Mary Jane Phillips-Matz. Verdi. A Biography. Oxford University Press, 1993. p. 273.
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