by Michael J. Vaughn
Some provocative adventures in costuming, setting and supertitles made West Bay Opera's Saturday production of "Rigoletto" a lively, if imperfect, endeavor. Given the great familiarity of Verdi's tragedy, innovations are always welcome, and the presence of some remarkable voices certainly didn't hurt. Richard W. Battle's wild costuming was evident from the first scene, the introduction of the decadent court of Mantua. Battle has clothed his courtesans in crushed velvet body suits, sweeping capes of gold and black, and three-foot beehive turbans striped in red and gold. (My companions and I couldn't decide whether these outfits owed more to '70s disco or '60s "Star Trek," but the message was certainly clear: this was a fun court.) The courtiers were clothed in more traditional doublets, leggings and capes, but with the same flashy sweeps of red, gold and black.
Surprisingly, the only moderately dressed soul was the head sinner himself, the Duke (Frederick Winthrop), who spends most of the opera in rather dour greys, blacks and whites. Certainly no indication of his character; the Duke enters the first scene among rumors that he has been having his way with the Countess Ceprano (Victoria Cummings). And Rigoletto, the court jester (Michael Rogers, clothed in dashing green-stripe leggings) is taking the opportunity to roast the cuckolded Count Ceprano (Otak Jump).
The party is rudely interrupted by Count Monterone (Daniel Morris), whose daughter has recently been deflowered during one of the court's wilder orgies. Rigoletto takes a few ill-timed jabs at the injured party, and before he knows it he is being served with a "maledizione," a curse, something taken very seriously in medieval Italy.
For Rigoletto, the curse packs more than the usual threat, for he is already on a razor's edge. Knowing that the courtiers hate him for his constant jibes and his favored spot with the Duke, the widower hides his daughter, Gilda (Dvora Djoraev), on the far side of town, and instructs her nurse, Giovanna (Julianne Booth), to keep an eye on her at all times.
Given this fanatic protectiveness, and the planting of Monterone's curse, we have all the elements for the unfurling of one of opera's most affecting tragedies (based on the play "Le Roi s'Amuse" by Victor Hugo).
The cast, with alternating singers for the roles of Rigoletto, the Duke, Gilda and the assassin Sparafucile's sister Maddalena, is mostly strong, with one exception. It is the great irony of the Duke's character that, though he can use his power to get anything he wants, he prefers to depend on his wit and charm to seduce his women (he poses as a student to win over Gilda). Winthrop, a member of the San Francisco Opera Chorus, lacks the charisma to carry this off, and is also wanting of voice; though his tone is strong and soaring once he achieves the high notes, he is forever landing them flat and pushing his way up, with a spinto ("push," a la Placido Domingo) approach that is a little too forced. Put simply, the Duke should be having more fun, and not working so hard.
The rest of Saturday's cast was sterling. With the exception of a too-mild reaction to the abduction of his daughter (possibly resulting from a too-mild abduction by the courtiers), Rogers as Rigoletto was strong of voice and stronger of acting, giving a heartbreaking account of the tragic clown's self-fulfilling fears. After recovering from some puzzling first-act jitters (including dropped phrases and ineffective breathing in her opening duets with Rigoletto) Djoraev as Gilda simply blew down the house with the great aria "Caro Nome," her declaration of love for the disguised Duke), ornamenting her cadenzas with a series of brilliant staccato leaps.
The supporting players were some of the best I've seen. Baritone Daniel Morris gave real gravity to the curse-dealing Monterone, a crucial yet often neglected role. Bass William Pickersgill portrayed the assassin Sparafucile with the gritty sexiness and malice of a biker dude. And mezzo-soprano Heather Torrijos was simply steaming as Sparafucile's lusty sister Maddalena (the third-act trio, with Sparafucile and Maddalena arguing inside the inn while love-stricken Gilda spies from outside, produced the most stunning blend of voices and drama in the production).
The men's chorus was impressively animated in this production, though they and the rest of the singers suffered a bit from stage director Lin White's tendency (not uncommon in opera tradition) to go too light on the seedy activities of the courtiers. They come off more as harmless fratboys than the criminals they really are.
The second of the daring experiments in this production was John Rathman's set and lighting design. At first glance, the rough, off-white walls, inscribed with subtle Italianate designs, seem much too simple to carry off the opera's many changes of setting, but Rathman, who has also worked with Opera San Jose and TheatreWorks, uses them as a canvas for his lighting, employing changes of color and pattern (including a wonderful wrought-iron lamp effect) to reflect the mood of the scene. He does, however, need to get the stage crew to rearrange them a little more quietly. The third experiment was with supertitles, and this one was a failure. Departing from the direct dialogue translations that have become standard in modern opera production, West Bay opted for synopsis-style clarifications instead. Though these less-frequent phrases did manage to refocus attention on the performers (many an opera star has complained that they feel like they are interrupting the audience's reading with their singing), they often came out intrusive and patronizing, telling the audience how to interpret the scene rather than letting them see it for themselves. In one scene, Maddalena was falling all over the banister, little invisible valentine hearts popping out of her eyes as she watched the Duke climb the stairs to his room, and then the supertitle came on--"Maddalena has fallen in love with the Duke"--producing more than a few snickers from the audience.
Better to dare than not, however, and you can count this production a winner. Under the baton of music director Ernest Fredric Knell, West Bay's orchestra and singers achieve a solidly musical production of this classic tragedy, the young Verdi's first great success.
"Rigoletto"
Who: West Bay Opera
When: 8:15 p.m. Friday and Saturday, Feb. 23 and 24; 2 p.m. Sunday, Feb. 25
Where: Lucie Stern Theatre, 1305 Middlefield Road, Palo Alto
Cost: $29
Information: 424-9999
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