Rigoletto at ENO

13/02/14

Rigoletto is an opera I have seen many times before and have never previously loved, but after having seen this, I now fully understand the great appeal the music has in a great performance, and why it is such a staple repertoire piece.

Christopher Alden's production is pretty abstract, all taking place in a 19th century gentleman's club, the different locations overlapping, with characters in the same stage space not always in the same plane of the story. So the court becomes the same as Rigoletto's house and Gilda's imprisonment is spiritual. Like his production of Die Fledermaus from earlier this season, Alden's production is a mixed bag, but it has enough character and things to think about to make it more than worthwhile. The plot of Rigoletto is probably the paradigmatic 'silly opera plot', that stick that is used by the unsympathetic and insecure to beat the genre into a state of ridicule. Although this production probably assumes a reasonable familiarity with the story as normally presented, Alden tries to present it as an abstracted canvas in which we are encouraged to focus on the character relationships, rather than the the absurd plot elements which frame them. This approach when combined with the single set leads to a certain feeling of staticism, but when the music making is as fabulous as it is here, it works very well because we're allowed to focus on the ('right brain') emotional veracity of each moment rather than its logical absurdity (which the 'left brain' objects to. Drama is made of logical and emotional elements, and, for me at least, weakness in either leads to a difficulty in engaging with a piece of theatre). What I found most moving and insightful about Alden's presentation of the opera was in Rigoletto's relationship with Gilda - although it is obvious that he loves her beyond anything else, when actually faced with her in person he is too physically rough, too controlling, and finds it hard to communicate properly with her. In the end of course he ends up destroying her, which is his tragedy.

Quinn Kelsey's Rigoletto is simply stupendous. The endless wail of opera mavens that there are no great Verdi baritones any more has finally been answered. The two most famous baritones currently singing these roles on an international level are Dmitri Hvorostovsky and Simon Keenleyside, and though both have the control and command of the high tessitura that is required they also possess instruments that are essentially lyric in quality and so are in my experience rarely fully satisfying in this heavy repertoire. Kelsey similarly finds a superlative ease in the upper register and a wide palette of vocal colours, but his voice has a blade in it so he never resorts to bellowing, and the core of his sound is large, warm and burnished. On top of this, and perhaps most crucially, his singing is never just a exercise in bel canto - he actually manages to create a character in the sound. I can't praise him highly enough - let's hope we get him back soon for another Verdi baritone role.

Anna Christy's Gilda is very fine. She has an excellent technique and musicianship and in the ensembles she is wonderful. The fundamental timbre is not the most beautiful, and a certain hardness in the vibrato affects the middle voice, but the chest notes are there, and she sings the role as well as any I have heard live in the theatre. Barry Banks' duke is excellent in terms of his legato, and again his technique means that one is never nervous that he will come to any grief at any point. Acting wise he is a little weaker than his colleagues and occasionally a bit hard to credit as the lusty duke - he seems a bit cuddly and nice for that.

Under Graeme Jenkins the ENO orchestra play better than I have ever heard them. This was one of those performances that reminds you quite how transformative great conducting can be to an orchestra, and on the flip side, how few conductors there are at any moment that are capable of this. I don't think I've even heard better Verdi live in performance. Jenkins has a wonderful instinct for texture and colour, and drew out an atmosphere that I just didn't imagine existed inside this score. The sudden extreme shifts of mood in the piece told emotionally and dramatically, totally avoiding empty hysterics or shock tactics. The orchestra played as one organism, though on this first night there were a few moments in faster passages where pit and stage came slightly adrift, the only criticism I could make of this conducting. Most wonderful though was Jenkins' immaculate sense of line, the thing that really unifies an orchestra and allows melody driven music to attain real structure and momentum. Each number drifted along with dreamy ease, each phrase building on the arc of the previous one. So rare to hear, and such an immense pleasure when it is as spectacularly achieved as here.

Photos (c) ENO/Alastair Muir

Rigoletto and La Fille du Regiment at the ROH

I am so behind with my reviews and have so little time at the moment, that I thought I'd just combine these. Both of these productions have been revived several times so I'll dispense with a long discussion of either. In any case I'm not a huge fan of either work so will keep it brief.


Last time I saw David McVicar's "brothel" Rigoletto (with Hvorostovsky and Ciofi) I quite enjoyed it, but this time the whole thing felt like a rather drab affair. Without McVicar to rehearse the cast, many scenes seemed to lack energy, and the orgy almost seems by wrote.

Dimitri Platanias was vocally completely up to the role of Rigoletto, but he completely failed to interract with anyone else on stage delivering all his lines facing the audience, sometimes not even inclined towards the person he was meant to be addressing. Not a terribly engaged performance then. He also didn't seem to get the point of the sticks at all - he was just walking around and moving the sticks, rather than using the sticks as a vital crutch and dragging his loping form around behind them. I only mention it because Hvorostovsky managed it so superbly last time, and its key to McVicar's conception. As I say, vocally Platanias was more than capable, but equally I was never drawn in.

Desirée Rancatore had apparently flown in that morning to replace a sick Ekaterina Siurina, and managed OK, though the top is over covered, and not always fully in gear. Yes, yes, it's hard to step in at such short notice, so let's not be too hard on her, I know, I know. Amazing that she managed to act as well as she did given that she almost certainly was just walked through the staging once in half an hour.

And onto Grigolo... What to say? The voice is certainly exciting, the top notes unstrained and ringing, and he certainly has a decent technique. But he has absolutely no taste or any hint of what might be appropriate, mangling rhythms, constantly flipping between pianissimo and fortissimo and always pushing the voice to past the point where it is beautiful. Acting wise too, he'll never make one gesture where five will do, and always the most clichéed hand sweeps and dancing lunges. In Act I it was almost laughable, but in Act II he did produce some wonderful singing at key moments, though of course lapsing into the ridiculous immediately afterwards.

Christine Rice and Matthew Rose were my favourite voices as Maddalena and Sparafucile. Rice doesn't have a particularly beautiful voice it seems, but she sounded very good - firm, flexible and she's very likeable on stage. I await her O Don Fatale next season... Rose I'm convinced will turn out to be a major force in a few years time, especially when the voice matures into the larger Wagner roles. He's being very sensible and biding his time, and though he's not always very natural on stage, this is a voice with enormous potential I think.

Gardiner in the pit I liked quite a lot, though he didn't make me like the work any more. The Act II quartet to the end is where most of the interest is for me musically, and it was very beautifully played here.



Laurent Pelly's production of La Fille du Régiment has been done a lot at the ROH, the Met and elsewhere and it's a charmer, about as good a production I can imagine of this work. So much beautiful detail lavished on this piece of flim flam! Thing is, it is still a star vehicle, and though the soloists that the ROH have hired are both good, neither are box office draws, and given that they've done it quite recently with Dessay and Florez it's no wonder that it's not selling well. Do they not imagine these things ahead of time?

Anyway, Patrizia Ciofi as Marie is a real surprise - who knew that she could do comedy? She's great in the part. Again it's not a beautiful voice, sounding quite metallic above the stave and disappearing completely below it, but to me it's no less beautiful than Dessay's these days. She's not a virtuoso like Dessay though, so the coloratura isn't all that impressive, though she definitely sings every note.

I don't know if I'm the only one, but the famous 9 high Cs of Ah! Mes Amis... do very little for me. Colin Lee dispatched them with ease, and he's a more charming stage presence perhaps than Florez, but again, he doesn't have the same star quality vocally. I have to say that I'm not the biggest Florez fan (to me this is quite ugly singing), but obviously I recognize his immense talent.

All the other roles were charmingly taken. Ann Murray as La Marquise de Berkenfield is superb, cutting a dashingly elegant figure. Alan Opie is equally good as Sulpice.

Ann Widdecombe however... oh dear. On previous outings we've had Dawn French who was predictably hilarious. As La Duchesse de Crackentorp, Widdecombe is not a car crash, but she's far from great. They could have chosen anyone. Why her? She's not even an actress. Rumour has it that originally we were meant to get Dame Edna Everage this time, but she pulled out. What a shame.

Right. Onto the next review!