“Pari siamo!” (We are the same!) The words of the jester Rigoletto are haunting, a fourth-wall-cracking moment that cuts to the heart of Verdi’s expert examination of humanity and cruelty. LA Opera’s production of Rigoletto that opened on Saturday is a moving example of how the piece can succeed beyond its famous tunes. Thanks to a compelling staging and powerful dramatic performances, it was a fantastic evening of opera.
Previously seen in Atlanta, Houston and Dallas, Tomer Zvulun's staging is updated to the 1920s. Courtiers are in white tie, court dancers are flappers. Erhard Rom's sets consists primarily of a rotating monolith, on one side a large staircase for the court, on another, a balcony for Gilda to sing from. The sparseness works as a vehicle for Zvulun’s convincing staging. The courtiers, wearing plastic cartoon character masks, are conniving. The action is constantly busy, with interesting additions and symbols of the Duke’s cruelty. To be sure, it’s not as shocking a depiction as has been seen in other stagings. Nor is the update all that functional, but Zvulun’s is a thought-provoking depiction of how anonymity (Rigoletto’s jester face-paint, for example) can lead to cruelty. Jessica Jahn's flapper costumes are flashy and Robert Wierzel’s lighting deserves mention as a subtle dramatic addition.
LA Opera’s principals were not-so-subtle dramatic additions to this production. While the tenor and soprano tunes are undoubtedly the most catchy of the piece, perhaps up there with all operatic “hits”, the opera can be truly exceptional with a convincing baritone in the title role. Quinn Kelsey more than persuades. In an era when the sound of the “Verdi baritone” is but a memory, Kelsey’s is a thrilling exception. The middle of his range recalls Leonard Warren, his high notes Cornell MacNeil. It is not necessarily an overly-large voice, but it is powerful. His “Pari siamo,” was engrossing vocally, commanding dramatically and physically, partially because he had to perform an onstage costume change throughout it. Any concern about him not opting for the high G at the end of the aria were assuaged throughout the evening. “Cortigiani vil razza dannata” was magnetic, with his vocal strength and imposing physique, but ultimately vulnerability, laying bare a tormented father. If Kelsey was saving his high notes, the interpolated high A at the end of the evening was worth the wait. What a voice!
As his daughter, Gilda, soprano Lisette Oropesa was touching. While her soprano was occasionally a bit heavy for the coloratura, the sheen of her gorgeous sound suited the role. Oropesa was playful, flitting around amorously, but then transformed through each of the acts, growing up all too quickly, but believably. “Caro nome” was captivating, sensitively accompanied by James Conlon’s orchestra.
Tenor René Barbera sings with a charming Italianate tenor, with squillo and line. While his big raucous numbers were finely executed, much to the audience’s pleasure, his “Parmi veder le lagrime” was outstanding in voice and performance, lending a vulnerability to his callous character. The three leads joined forces throughout the evening effectively, Oropesa and Kelsey in the second act were magnificent, Oropesa and Barbera in the first were charming, and capped off their duet with thrilling high notes. Combined with a vocally and dramatically luxurious Sarah Saturnino as Maddalena, the third act quartet was sumptuous.
Other supporting roles were also excellent, from the thunderous bass of Blake Denson as Monterone, to the lush sound of Peixin Chen as Sparafucile. The tenors and basses of the LA Opera Chorus were in fine voice and executed their dramatic contributions convincingly. They played a sadistic bunch and were vocally powerful to match. The orchestra sounded as good as I’ve heard them in recent memory, playing sensitively and cohesively.
The cohesion of the performance was perhaps the icing on the cake. While one could quibble with some details, the overall summation of the elements was brilliant. Vocally, musically, dramatically and visually, this was a wonderful Rigoletto. While the voices themselves still resound in my ears, the prescient relevance of Verdi’s masterpiece is even more haunting. As the words of the hunchback make clear, we are all the same and make each other thus. A haunting thought.
