Woman is flighty; Like a feather in the wind, She changes her voice — and her mind.
Opera focuses on two senses that a human possesses: sight and sound. Rigoletto not only focused, but also pushed our senses to the limits with eye-popping set design, costumes that would put Queen Elizabeth’s garments to shame, and beautiful voices like no others that you have ever heard before.
“La donna è mobile; Qual piuma al vento, Muta d’accento — e di pensiero.”
The words have been stuck in my head since I have left the Metropolitan Opera a few hours ago after seeing Rigoletto. The opera featured many famous arias that have left an impression on me, but none like “La donna è mobile.“ There was a fundamental musical harmony and catchy tune to the aria. Perhaps it is due to the numerous times I have heard it in my childhood, but the catchy tune being combined with the beautiful voice of Francesco Meli evoked a unique feeling of connection to the opera. It would be unfair to say that the other arias like “Caro nome” and “Questo o quella” played a lesser role in the opera, since their presence augmented the opera in a different way – it is the combination of all these famous arias into one opera that makes Rigoletto such an astonishing performance to witness, and, more specifically, listen to. One voice in counterpoint with another, in harmonic conjunction with a third, while being bolstered by the orchestra’s music made the singing a pure delight for listeners’ ears.
The chandeliers rise up, the lights dim, and the curtains withdraw. The setting of Rigoletto starts in the castle of the Duke of Mantua. I could not believe my eyes when looking at the set design. Three-dimensional sets that fooled me into thinking they were made of genuine stone, real fire from torches used for effective illumination, and a gorgeous cloudy backdrop, which I wished was resembling our New York City weather last night, all put the viewer in the setting of the 16th century in France. The setting was only half of the visual drama going on, however. The actors had on some of the most elaborate décor and performed very dramatically to give the viewer a true understanding of what the definition of “drama” truly is: an episode that is highly turbulent and emotional.
If alluring music and fancy costumes do not impress you, the storyline of Rigoletto truly will. Rigoletto is a jester to the Duke of Mantua and during one party, where the Duke starts seducing Count Ceprano’s wife, he takes his jesting too far. Monterone, the countess’s father, shows up very dramatically at the party with the words “My voice like thunder will reach you everywhere.” He tries to denounce the duke for seducing his daughter, but instead is mocked by Rigoletto, whom is soon cursed by Monterone. Suddenly, the music gets darker and you can feel that the spookiness of this tragedy begins with Monterone’s curse.
The scene soon changes to another beautiful setting – Rigoletto’s home. Here, he meets the assassin, Sparafucile, whom he agrees to pay in exchange for having the Duke killed for the numerous times he has abused his poor jester, including the latest wrongdoing being the Duke taking a liking towards Rigoletto’s daughter. Little does Rigoletto know that his daughter’s fate will end up in the hands of this assassin. A great example of dramatic irony is presented to us immediately following Rigoletto’s ordeal with the assassin when we get to see his daughter being taken away by noblemen, and he himself helping them because it is dark and he is tricked into believing he was abducting Count Ceprano’s wife.
Like any tragedy, Rigoletto has an ending that breaks the hearts of its viewers. What piqued my interests in the final scene, however, was not the fate of Gilda, but rather the contrast that Giuseppe Verdi decided to use in his music and visual spectacles. A piccolo playing a joyful tune often accompanied the lightning on the set, and the devastating death of Gilda did not seem so horrifying with the music that was provided at the moment. It made the listener question the effectiveness of, what was supposed to be, a scary scene. However, this was one of the few examples of a dichotomy in Rigoletto that really jumped out at me, and was certainly overshadowed by the harmony and flow of the rest of the opera.
Overall, it truly was a remarkable experience to sit through this classic monumental masterpiece, which has been performed eight-hundred and fifty-one times at the Metropolitan Opera, and countless others at other opera houses around the world. It has left a strong impression on me and I hope that all the future operas and performances in my life will be of equal caliber as Rigoletto, by Giuseppe Verdi.
