Rigoletto

 Notwithstanding this apparently popular view, Scottish Opera has had a fruitful season. Many nights of their astonishing production of The Marriage of Figaro (Mozart) sold out. The students and youngsters are getting into it (facilitated by £10 ticket offers for the under-26) and it’s looking ever more hip and less toffish to attend these days. (See the ultra-modern and in no way square-looking promotional image for Orlando.) Could it be that the Opera is becoming fashionable?

If this can conceivably be construed as the case what better way to bolster it’s new credentials than with a production of Rigoletto, Verdi’s popular Italian tragedy, loosely based on Victor Hugo’s novel Le roi s'amuse. This classic seems to capture, quintessentially, exactly what people want, expect, and long from Opera: the pulsing emotion of great big voices, colourful and dramatic arias full of love and love lost, high romanticism, and of course tragic irony.

The moment the overture strikes up a mood is set and we eagerly anticipate the highs and lows. The promiscuous Duke of Mantua has stealthily snatched away the innocence of the daughter of Count Monterone, and Rigoletto, the Duke’s hunchbacked court Jester, humiliates the Count at palace in front of the courtiers. Monterone responds by cursing them both, and in a twist of poetic justice Rigoletto’s daughter too falls victim to the Duke’s philandering whim. Rigoletto rages against the world, the count, his deformity and life as a court-jester, “man and nature you have made me evil, if I am wicked, the fault is yours,” and resolves to have the Duke killed by a hit-man, but unexpectedly the results of his decision fall tragically upon his own doorstep.

Scottish Opera bring to this exemplary model of archetypical Opera standard a cast of wonderful voices, notably Eddie Wade as Rigoletto, Edgaras Montvidas as the suave Duke of Mantua, Nadine Livingston (Scottish Opera Emerging Artist 10/11) who charms us as Rigoletto’s daughter Gilda, Alan Fairs as Count Monterone and Gregory Frank as Sparafucile, the contract killer. They are backed by a massive chorus of gentlemen who give the production the depth and breadth of vocal required to capture and portray the force of the drama.

La Donna e Mobile is the most famous piece of music in Rigoletto (everyone has heard Pavarotti sing it) thus there is much anticipation throughout the third act, and Montvidas truly delivers it with style and finesse, although there is a slight feeling the scene has been under-directed, while it remains a highlight, it is not the centrepiece it could be. In the most poignant scene the stage is cast a contemplative blue, lit by a spinning mirror ball, as Gilda (Nadine Livingston) warms our hearts with an aria on the depths of her infatuation with the Duke. The overall effect of the production is mesmerising.

If one criticism is to be made of Scottish Opera’s Rigoletto it is that the success of its minimalist design concept fluctuates. Sometimes it is extremely effective: Rigoletto’s shadow is caught in a spotlight against a black backdrop, he creeps through the outline of a door drawn in chalk and disappears. Other times it jars ever so slightly: Rigoletto’s green sparkling jacket may be taken with a pinch of salt, but the long leather couch and myriad of manequins in the palace of the Duke’s seem woefully out of place.

Overall the production is extremely elevating.

The Skinny previewed this event here.