Met Opera: Rigoletto

This article was originally published on May 2, 2013

The final opera I'll be seeing this season was yesterday evening's performance of the Met's new production of Rigoletto, undeniably one of Verdi's greatest achievements and one of the most powerful operas in the repertoire - the unsentimental retelling, based on a Victor Hugo novel, of the historical account of a dissolute ruler who does not hesitate to abuse his power in abducting and raping a young girl.  The realistic depiction of the Duke, at times almost repulsive in its naturalism, is in strong contrast to the beauty of the music.  The work contains some of the composer's most beautiful arias and most innovative scoring, as in the use of the chorus to evoke  to evoke the sound of the wind during the storm in Act III.  Finally, the powerful literary motif in which the plot finds its resolution through the fulfillment  of a curse has rightfully led to comparisons with Shakespeare's tragedies.

It could be argued that the Met's new production by Michael Mayer is the perfect setting for this opera.  Though there is no sound basis in the libretto itself for transplanting the action to 1960's Las Vegas, the milieu - which at times appears an attempt to remake the film Showgirls - is thoroughly lurid and tacky and serves as an excellent metaphor for the character of the Duke, whose historical counterpart actually had as the family motto "Forse che sì, forse che no" ("Maybe yes, maybe no").  Though I cringed while watching the Duke pole dancing during his aria La donna è mobile, there's no doubt the staging reflects very well the emptiness of his character.  And the production does have some sense of humor - the casino's kitsch chandeliers in Act II are a witty parody of the Met's own lighting fixtures.

Last evening was the first opportunity I'd had to hear soprano Lisette Oropesa, and I thought she did very well in an intriguing portrayal of Gilda.  Vittorio Grigolo was adequate but little more in the role of the Duke.  In the role of Rigoletto himself, George Gagnidze's singing was at times weak, but he did manage to evoke the full pathos of the character, most notably in his duets with Gilda in Act II and in his final realization of what he had accomplished in the finale of Act III.