Giuseppe Verdi - Rigoletto
Opéra Royal de Wallonie, Liège - 2015
Renato Palumbo, Stefano Mazzonis di Pralafera, Leo Nucci, Desirée Rancatore, Gianluca Terranova, Luciano Montanaro, Carla Dirlikov, Benoît Delvaux, Roger Joakim, Alexise Yerna, Giovanni Iovino, Patrick Delcour, Laura Balidemaj, Victor Cousu
Culturebox - 28 March 2015
The Opéra Royal de Wallonie in Liège can be fairly adventurous in their stage presentations of lesser-known, rarely performed works, but they tend to approach the big popular works with a little more caution, undoubtedly not wanting to challenge the core audience for traditional repertoire too much. Such is the case with their 2015 production of Verdi's Rigoletto, with the ORW's colourful artistic director Stefano Mazzonis di Pralafera going as far as to take the work right back to the designs for its original production at La Fenice in 1851.
Such a looking-backward approach can be a little disheartening for anyone who believes that opera can be a progressive artform and that truly classic works are strong enough to withstand reinterpretation and indeed remain so relevant that they merit such an approach. There is of course some interest in seeing how a work like Rigoletto might have looked to an audience back in 1851, even if it's only from a historical perspective. Rigoletto however is a work that also has a very specific structure and dramatic stage presence, and that would appear to be director's rationale here, seeing how the work would move and breathe if the performers are given sufficient space, since it is between the protagonists that the real drama occurs.
The old-fashioned painted backdrops don't look terribly inspiring, nor does the 19th century approach to medieval costume design. The lighting is also designed to match the colourful period look, and even the directing is very much in the traditional manner, with the singers mainly standing and singing their parts out to the audience. Fortunately this approach can still bring out the best in Rigoletto, which functions something like a relay race, the solo singer passing on the baton to the next solo performance in a handover duet that has the real dramatic conflict and drive. You take it and run with it and you're heading towards a thrilling finish ...if you have good enough individual runners, no weak links and no fumbling in the handovers.
Fortunately, that is clearly the case with the cast that Liège have assembled for this 2015 production. You know you have little to worry about when you have Leo Nucci, probably the best and most experienced Verdi baritone anywhere in the world today (over 440 performances) cast as Rigoletto. Nucci is never anything less than completely within the role and the drama of the moment, never playing to the audience, even though the open stage and traditional setting permits and even encourages such an approach. Nucci resists any temptation to grandstand and his singing remains firm, expressive and controlled. There's not a gesture, a note that you could fault or criticise anywhere. He knows the role of the Duke's jester just about better than anyone, and he's a simply a marvel here.
All of which, of course, only puts even greater pressure on your Gilda, particularly when the direction seems to focus on her role in the opera. Rigoletto, let's face it, is ostensibly a revenge drama. The curse of Count Monterone in revenge for the Duke's seduction of his daughter and Rigoletto's hiring of the assassin Sparafucile in revenge for the humiliation he has suffered at Gilda's dishonour create the tensions that drive the essence of the plot. There is however much more to the story and the characterisation than this, particularly in how Verdi scores for the characters and in how he arranges those duet confrontations.
Of particular interest to Stefano Mazzonis in this production is the development of Gilda from innocent young girl who knows nothing - not even the circumstances of her birth and parentage - to an independent young woman who acts of her own will in Act II, and out of choice, chooses to pay for the decisions she has made in Act III. As such there's a lot of pressure placed upon Desirée Rancatore in this production, and she carries it off quite impressively. There's a fine 'Caro nome' in Act I, but she only really comes into her role as this expression of innocence is left behind. Act II is challenging, all the more so for being paired with Nucci, but the two work well together. The close-up camera angle selected for Gilda's death scene is merciless on the viewer, particularly as Rancatore acts it so well. It's a measure of how far her character has come on, and a measure of how well Rancatore plays it.
Such is the success of the partnership between Nucci and Rancatore that that the Act II final duet 'Sì! Vendetta, tremenda vendetta!' is met with long and loud applause, and the audience are rewarded with an encore. It's rare to see these nowadays, but completely merited here, and the performance is just as thrilling second time around. Just to round things off to near perfection, the ORW production finds a terrific Duke in Gianluca Terranova. He has a strong, bright, clear delivery, plays up the charming seducer blithely unaware of the harm he causes other people rather than one who is cruel and heartless, but he doesn't overplay it either. Renato Palumbo's musical direction is measured and well-paced, the orchestra giving a fine performance, revealing all the power of Verdi's score as well as the subtleties and beauty that is there the characterisation.
Links: Culturebox, Opéra Royal de Wallonie
Giuseppe Verdi - Luisa Miller
Opéra Royal de Wallonie, Liège, 2014
Massimo Zanetti, Jean-Claude Fall, Patrizia Ciofi, Gregory Kunde, Nicola Alaimo, Bálint Szabó, Luciano Montanaro, Alexise Yerna, Cristina Melis
Culturebox, Medici.tv - 4 December 2014
The subject of Luisa Miller is a typical one for Verdi, almost prototypical in fact in the manner in which Friedrich Schiller's original story has been reduced in scope from a more political and social intrigue down into a domestic drama that best suits Verdi's requirements. Luisa Miller is almost opera semiseria in nature, with its Tyrolean setting and overprotective fathers concerned about the reputations of their daughters, but there's nothing backward looking in Verdi's musical treatment of the subject. It's not perfect, but Luisa Miller is a work that is leading the way towards some of the composer's greatest achievements.
At the heart of Verdi's opera is indeed that familiar configuration of fathers who want the best for their children, and there are two of them here. Miller wants his pure and beautiful daughter Luisa to marry a man worthy of her and hopes she has chosen well in Carlo, but he can't help but worry about the stranger's unknown origins, and wishes she'd marry a stable, ambitious man like the Count's steward Wurm instead. For his part, Count Walter wants his son Rodolfo (who is indeed the same Carlo who is engaged to Luisa) to marry well into wealth and prestige, and has even arranged a suitable match for him with the Duchess Federica.
There's a further dark secret yet to be uncovered of course, but essentially the drama of Luisa Miller centres around this unfortunate complication of romantic interests and family responsibilities. True, everyone is acting out of consideration for what they believe are the best interests for themselves and the ones they love, but it only needs a despicable figure like Wurm (Wurm by name, worm by nature), and of course the aforementioned dark secret, to stir this up into the kind of boiling melodrama that Verdi does so well. Discovering through Wurm that Carlo is really the Count's son, Miller is convinced that he is just a heartless seducer whose intentions can't possibly be honourable. He's obviously familiar with opera semiseria works set in Tyrolean locations (Linda di Chamounix, Clari), where that would usually be the case.
That's still not much of a subject for a composer like Verdi who at this stage was approaching his best mature works in Rigoletto and La Traviata. Luisa Miller in many ways resembles and could almost be seen as a dry run for Rigoletto, where the Duke is indeed a seducer in disguise. The closing scene in particular where Miller regrets his over-protectiveness while holding his dying daughter in his arms has strong echoes with the conclusion of Rigoletto, and to be honest, his setting and scoring for this scene, as well as the dark moments leading up to it, are scarcely any less stirring than Verdi's arrangements for the more famous work.
Verdi's strengths as a composer are already in place on the family and domestic drama, but what works much better here than in some of Verdi's earlier works is how he integrates or makes use of the political side of the drama. The overt political references might have been dropped from Schiller's 'Kabale und Liebe', but with censorship always a problem that Verdi had to work around, the composer was able to cleverly find other ways to put real contemporary social and revolutionary sentiments into his work in a way that sets them apart from the ancient historical subjects of earlier works like Nabucco, Attila and Joan of Arc. In Rodolfo and Luisa's situation there is a struggle against social class prejudices and the injustice of a controlling patriarchy that ends up only causing division and suffering for all. Without needing to make explicit references, Verdi is nonetheless able to convey the full strength of feeling that lies behind these sentiments.
Pouring all those sentiments into a small family drama does admittedly risk turning the work into an overblown melodrama. There's not quite the same scale or sensitivity of handling here in Luisa Miller that you will find in Verdi's mature works and particularly in later ones like Don Carlos and Aida where the characterisation is more nuanced, where the subjects of love, injustice and the abuse of authority are more fully integrated into the whole. Played right however, with an eye towards how Verdi gives voice to those small dramas writ large in the eyes of the people concerned, and bearing in mind where the composer is heading towards, Luisa Miller can be played effectively on the stage. The Opéra Royal de Wallonie in Liège are traditionally very strong at giving lesser-known and under-appreciated Verdi and Rossini sympathetic productions that play to the strengths in such works, and their Luisa Miller is no exception.
The key to the success of this production is in the casting. There are some notable names in the main roles - Patrizia Ciofi, Gregory Kunde and Nicola Alaimo - but the secondary roles are also marvellously played and sung. While the principals evidently have important parts to play, there's a recognition that some sympathy towards the fathers Count Walter and Miller, and a little understanding of their position, gives the drama a little more conviction. Both fathers are well-meaning, convinced that nothing good will come of their offspring's scorn for their wisdom. This is the conflict that drives Luisa Miller, and it helps if you have singers who can bring that out. You can see that Luciano Montanaro's Count is motivated by love for his son, while Nicola Alaimo's light, lyrical delivery has all the necessary warmth and feeling for his daughter, particularly in the critical closing scene.
Wurm is basically a cartoon villain and doesn't need to have the same consideration applied, but Bálint Szabó's performance is nicely understated and supportive of the overall tone of the production, never letting it slip over into caricature. Again, smaller details count as well for the Duchess and Cristina Melis gives a well-measured performance that makes Federica's transition from seductiveness to the bitterness of a woman scorned seem perfectly natural. And what a great Verdi singer Gregory Kunde proves to be as Rodolfo. It's rare to get the right mix of sheer passion balanced with perfect control of the technical requirements for such a role, but Kunde has all that and the acting ability to bring them together to really make you care about what happens. Ciofi's performance as Luisa is also heartfelt, although as I've found before, her voice is a little too light to carry the lower end weight of such an intensely dramatic role.
Musically, Massimo Zanetti's conducting pitches the work perfectly in terms of its dramatic and its emotional content. Every scene carries the necessary impact. Jean-Claude Fall's stage direction and the sets emphasise the divisions well, the bright open blue skies and Tyrolean woodland exteriors contrasted with the dark rooms of the Count's mansion (a hydraulic system very smoothly and cleverly flipping over from one scene to the next). There's no big concept here, the period aiming for modern without stretching beyond the requirements of the libretto. Guns are used instead of swords, but this doesn't present much of an issue, and with pistols brandished in those dark interiors, it even gives a tense Godfather-like feel to the work which is not out of place. It also helps deliver a powerful conclusion which recognises the importance of Verdi ending on a note of high drama.
Links: Culturebox, Medici.tv, Opéra Royal de Wallonie
