Lancette Arts Journal
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Music - Live Performances
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April 2004

By Alidë Kohlhaas

There was a surprise in-store for the audience when Rigoletto raised its curtain in mid-April at the Hummingbird Centre. Verdi's masterpiece, presented by the Canadian Opera Company (COC), was to have featured soprano Laura Claycomb as the opera's ill-fated Gilda. As it turned out, Ms Claycomb, whom the COC's general director, Richard Bradshaw, had called his "ideal Gilda," had taken ill. Instead, the audience learned that soprano Olga Makarina, fresh from a performance in the same role at the Met in New York, would be singing the part.

This reviewer certainly was not in the least disappointed. Ms Makarina turned out to be a magnificent Gilda. Her voice, clear as a bell, with beautiful shading, and a tenderness that went straight to the heart, never once made me regret that a substitution had taken place on stage. Her "Caro nome che il mio" spoke clearly of Gilda's great love for her wooer, whom she thought to be a poor student.

This production of the COC's Rigoletto had its origins at the San Francisco Opera. It contained elements that one can call conservative, and yet it offered an exciting way of presenting Verdi's masterpiece. As staged, it succeeded in defining the opera's interlocking themes of superstition and thirst for revenge, an inability of the main character (Rigoletto) to take blame and so place it on others, and lastly, love and devotion answered by amorality and licentiousness.

One subject of revenge is the court jester, Rigoletto (baritone Alan Opie), whose vile, mocking tongue in defence of his libertine master, the Duke of Mantua (tenor Giuseppe Gipali), simply asks for some kind of retribution from his victims. There is also Rigoletto's thirst for revenge for the seduction and abandonment of his daughter, Gilda, by his own master. There are the love and devotion that Gilda feels for her father and he for her, and Gilda's unwise love for her eventual defiler. This love will lead her to make a choice that will end up in tragedy and reminds us that it is best to leave revenge to higher authority. And lastly, we witness Rigoletto's adherence to superstition rather than the acceptance that events happen because of his own actions.

The sets featured plain arches in the palace setting, and unadorned facades in the street settings that sloped toward a distant perspective point, which created wonderful visual depth. The lighting also added much to this production, especially in the street scenes. The designers thus captured the mood and tone extremely well of the narrow streets of ancient Italian cities as we even encounter them today. One also admired the way the designers brought into view the river Mincio that in other productions is only talked about, but never seen, and the way the interior of Rigoletto's home moves into view once he enters from the street.

The costumes further enhanced the tone of the story, and placed the action into a nebulous period somewhere between the early Renaissance and the 19th century. While the courtiers' costumes, and that of the jester, are squarely set in the former, the jester's cape and soft city Stetson worn while skulking to his home are placed in the latter. The juxtaposing of the periods worked well, especially since this alludes to the two periods that had influence on the original story, Le roi s'amuse by Victor Hugo. The French writer had written his play about the amorous adventures of King Francis I of France [1494-1547]. French sensors, however, ordered the play closed because they felt it made derogatory allusions to King Louis-Philippe [1773-1850], during whose reign [1830-48] Hugo presented his play.

Opie gave us a highly convincing Rigoletto. His voice captured the conflicting emotions of the jester, his spitefulness when dealing with the courtiers, and his love for his daughter. It was appreciated that his deformity was merely hinted at by a slight hump, with Opie creating a well-carried-out limp to round out the jester's physical appearance. His was a commanding performance in every way, and among others, sang with considerable intensity "Cortigiani, vil razza dannata" (Courtiers, vile and damned race), which also revealed the jester's mental conflicts.

Bass Ayk Martirossian dark voice certainly had all of the attributes expected of the assassin for hire, Sparafucile. There was something Mephistophelian about his interpretation of the character that suited it well.

His sister, Maddelena, was sung with the required seductiveness by mezzo-soprano Buffy Baggot, who by the way is also singing one of the Valkyries, Grimgerde, in the COC's current production of Die Walküre.

And, of course, one must not forget the Duke of Mantua. This seducer of every woman in his dukedom, so it seems, required a virile tenor, and Gipali gave us such a man. The well-known aria, "La donna è mobile" (A woman is fickle), which he sings three times in the opera, each time with a different emphasis, seemed to be written for his voice.

Conductor Julian Kovatchev, in his debut with the COC, showed he understood the score by giving the singers the necessary vocal space and tempo that they needed. The COC orchestra responded to his conducting with considerable verve, without ever overshadowing the singers.

[The COC's Rigoletto continues at the Hummingbird Centre until April 24]

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