Rigoletto

Michael Chioldi (Rigoletto) in INO's Rigoletto. Photo Pat Redmond

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Rigoletto was considered groundbreaking when it first premiered in Venice’s Teatro la Fenice in 1851. Verdi’s pacy melodrama about a lecherous duke, an over protective father and his innocent daughter breaking the mould by portraying royalty as scoundrels and a hunchback jester as an anti-hero. Musically, relying less on arias and more on the orchestra to convey emotional expression, along with a significant number of duets, it went against the popular operatic grain. Which is not to say arias were frowned upon, those included being simply stunning. As is its famous quartet, or double duet, which has aged gloriously well. Singing done fine justice in Irish National Opera’s Rigoletto. Which, alas, like its eponymous star, sounds far better than it looks. Rigoletto proving a vocally breathtaking, musically satisfying, visually hideous production.

David Howes (Count Ceprano) and Michael Chioldi (Rigoletto) in INO's Rigoletto. Photo Pat Redmond

Problems begin with Jamie Vartan’s set, evoking a Nativity crib minus the figures decorated with headache inducing, mauve flock wallpaper. Jean-Jacques Delmotte’s kitsch chorus costumes seemingly assembled from the discards of matching drapes and sheets. Venetian bird masks with bowler hats hinting of Magritte and Steampunk adding to the visual mess. Only the Duke, his closest cronies, the flirtatious Maddalena and assassin Sparafucile pull off anything credible. The innocent Gilda, meanwhile, presents like a half shorn, hospital patient out on day release. As for the hunchback jester Rigoletto, slouching about with a hobble, his hunch resembling an oversized boil; his inflated shorts and circular collar flesh out a creepy, Pennywise resemblance. We get it, we’re not supposed to like him; emotional resonance lacking subtlety throughout. Meanwhile, Nicole Morel’s movement sequences look like knock off Bridgeton with Rick Fisher’s wall of bulbs and depressive lights not helping matters, including an insecure spot endlessly seeking its performer. Rigoletto making a spectacle of itself in all the wrong ways.

Michael Chioldi (Rigoletto) in INO's Rigoletto. Photo Pat Redmond

The effect dampening the power of an opera whose libretto by Francesco Maria Piave, based on the 1832 play Le roi s’amuse by Victor Hugo, thrives on high jinx. Betrayals, curses, assassins, revenge, lust and murder plumbing human depths to reach emotional heights. Much of which gets lost with director, Julien Chavez, seemingly unsure whether to play Rigoletto as a comedy, a tragedy, or a tragic-comedy; presenting something that's neither one thing nor the other. Struggling with Verdi’s no nonsense plot transitions that get rushed through. Forgoing character nuance, for the most part, aside from Gilda who looks like she didn’t get the memo or wisely tore it up. Flashes, as when the court surrounds the protesting Rigoletto, or Gilda's playful shooing away of the men in her life holding too many uneven moments to account.

Niamh O'Sullivan (Maddalena) and Julian Close (Sparafucile) in INO’s Rigoletto. Photo, Pat Redmond

An unevenness reflected in singing. Tenor Bekhzod Davronov’s licentious Duke, superb during arias, lacks power in duets and that famous quartet, struggling to be heard above the music and competing voices. Sounding less robust next to soprano Soraya Mafi's Gilda; Mafi's vocal prowesss showing a rich maturity that has Gilda sounding like the more adult character. Davronov’s duet with mezzo-soprano Niamh O’Sullivan’s mesmerising Maddalena far more successful; O’Sullivan’s singing clearly going from strength to strength. Bass Julian Close’s Sparafucile, and baritone Philip Rhodes’ Count Monterone both prove hugely impressive as, vocally, is Michael Chioldi as Rigoletto. Chioldi’s duets with Mafi stunning and fabulous, due in no small measure to Mafi pushing for emotional connection. Mafi conveying terrific range, emotionally and vocally, whilst providing a lynchpin for Chioldi to push against. Strengthening the case for those who believe the opera should be called Gilda.

Soraya Mafi (Gilda) in INO's Rigoletto. Photo Pat Redmond

If music, under conductor Fergal Shiel, suffered some uncharacteristic opening night issues, they were the least of Rigoletto’s problems. Music, occasionally inspiring, doing enough to suggest a solvable hiccup and deserveing of a little leniency. A little leniency also required from a modern audience given Verdi's misogynistic men and idiot women swooning at the first bad boy they meet. Looking like cast off Chaplin, with a chorus of Keystone Cops at times, Rigoletto’s effort at modernised staging look dated. Chaplin knew how to be funny, how to show pathos, and how to transition between both. Little of which is in evidence here. What is in evidence is a vocally impressive Chioldi and a blindingly brilliant Mafi.

Rigoletto, by Giuseppe Verdi, libretto by Francesco Maria Piave based on the 1832 play Le roi s’amuse by Victor Hugo, presented by Irish National Opera in a co-production with Santa Fe Opera and Opera Zuid in association with Bord Gáis Energy Theatre, runs at Bord Gáis Energy Theatre December 1, 3, 5 and 7.

For more information visit Bord Gáis Energy Theatre or Irish National Opera