Verdi’s prelude to Rigoletto is short and violent. From the outset of Opera Holland Park’s season opener, director Cecilia Stinton seeks to match the violence: her ducal court is a brutal place, the home of overprivileged toffs whose favourite sport is casual bullying of an extreme kind. Visually, it’s the Bullingdon Club circa 1920, complete with Edwardian dress and food fights, with the cricket gear replaced by rowing oars which turn into instruments of torture. Gilda’s abduction and Monterone’s execution are all part of a pattern, just two more items in the jolly japes in which the Duke and his cronies delight.
The overall conceit works, as do several of the staging details. The reek of privilege is overwhelming, helped by excellent stage movement and acting from the courtiers. It only takes a few deft prop changes to turn the Bullingdon into Sparafucile’s inn (populated, unusually, by real drinkers, until night falls and it’s closing time). The Holland Park stage is extended to wrap around the orchestra, which creates a space at the front to allow the opera’s more intimate moments to be set apart from the big ensemble numbers, also making it easier for the singers to be heard (although only when they are pointing in your direction, this being a semi-outdoor venue with no side walls). The spaces are neatly separated by lockable iron gates, which work well for many of the original stage directions.
Into the maelstrom is thrust a wonderful performance: Alison Langer as Gilda. Langer nails every note in the middle with confidence, expressivity and a deliciously warm timbre. She’s also a far more sympathetic Gilda than many, just an ordinary girl next door whose father’s refusal to discuss anything has left her utterly unprepared for the dangers that will assault her. Langer came through OHP’s Young Artists scheme and they can be proud of her; this is a young soprano destined for great things.
Sadly, Stephen Gadd had serious trouble in the title role. No announcement was made, but it was clear that Gadd was unwell in some way that prevented him from singing most notes above middle C. The part of Rigoletto is a typical example of Verdi’s high baritone tessitura, so Gadd was continually dropping phrases an octave or modifying them to remove the highs, in some cases losing notes altogether. I shudder to imagine the amount of effort it took him to struggle through.