I had the privilege of enjoying what might be the finest Rigoletto in years at the unassuming opera house in the Serbian cultural city of Novi Sad. For the full story about the opera itself, you can check out this link. Twice I've found myself by chance in the same city within a year's time, at the opera, and experienced something extraordinary. I remember the review about Liszt's opera Sardanapalo (click here") and now Rigoletto—and what a show! That's what I call getting lucky…
Outstanding caliber, brilliant direction with a rarely rich vision—actually the best I've ever seen—and breathtaking performances in perfect harmony, a powerful chorus, a fantastic orchestra, and a conductor who led it as if it were his 100th time. I'd happily recover from illness just to experience something like this, to live it, to be part of it. It helps and beats pills any day. Yes, music heals.
What did I see and hear that got me so excited I absolutely had to share it with you, dear readers? Rigoletto is so well-known that you don't need to trek across half of Europe to experience the opera. But when you're somewhere and have a free evening while storm clouds threaten to ruin it anyway, don't you just go inside? That's what we did once with friends in New York—we spent three days there and, walking past the MET, spotted a poster: Mozar's Così fan tutte with Kiri Te Kanawa that very evening. Of course we bought tickets, and even now, over 30 years after that March in 1987, I cherish that memory. If I'm lucky, I hope to savor this Rigoletto in Novi Sad for another good 30 years or more.
The orchestra starts with a trumpet that's slightly too fast. In a split second I think, "This is going to go wrong!" But aside from one similar slip-up, the orchestra flows smoothly under conductor Mikica Jevtić, who performs magic. It becomes a powerful musical performance with enormous highlights. To mention one downside—which I hear will be history within about eighteen months—the acoustics aren't the best. Singers standing further back on stage become harder to hear. Fortunately, the hall will undergo a complete renovation at the end of the 2019-20 concert season, and this problem will be thoroughly addressed.
Orgies, decadence, abduction and rape, betrayal, depravity…
We learn there's nothing new under the sun when certain people grow bored by the excessive wealth they live in, by the excessive power they wield. Look at American billionaire Epstein's story—it could serve as a script for Rigoletto. Abducted girls, gang rapes, murders. Because that's what Rigoletto is about: horror.
It's not only the hunchbacked Rigoletto who, out of opportunism, follows the Duke of Mantua in everything, no matter how crude. Everyone who lives in wealth thanks to the Duke participates in this trafficking. They could choose differently, but how would the hunchback survive? Because he knows better than anyone what these men are like—those who give the orders on one hand and carry them out on the other, for money and/or to possess the girl's body for a moment—he desperately protects his daughter. A young, blossoming woman, and quite attractive too. Of course, he's more fearful for his daughter Gilda's honor and life than any parent near the Duke of Mantua would be.
That disgusting Duke, who fancies himself a Roman Emperor—and that was literally true in the time when the story takes place—is the alter ego of Don Giovanni, another horror with his cowardly accomplice. He's already got plenty of lives on his conscience. Girls, parents who won't simply hand over their daughters—they have to pay. Heads roll by the dozen. And that becomes immediately clear when the theater curtain opens. A large painting is shown with fallen naked young women while Rigoletto walks past with a doll representing his daughter and other abused girls. Then the Duke appears, crowning himself with a laurel wreath. You immediately think of Caligula or Nero & Co. Then the painting rises and you see corpses on the stage—all young women… The overture transitions into singing and the figures jump up; the opera has truly begun. Ballet dancers—a very strong group of male dancers with a central figure that alludes to and mocks Conchita Wurst (Austrian Eurovision winner) and graceful dancers command the stage while the chorus takes over from the Duke.
Vocal and acting talent pushed to the limit
It's the younger Serbian tenor Stevan Karanac who convinces very personally and characterfully in this not-so-easy role where everyone hopes to hear Luciano Pavarotti one more time. That must make it extra difficult for any tenor to tackle this role. Karanac lets it wash over him and sings very fluidly, pairing it with facial expressions that convey the perversity that marks the Duke's behavior and radiates throughout. It's almost unbelievable that he's singing this role for the very first time.
Also debuting in his role, and equally improbable, is baritone Zeljko R. Andrić as Rigoletto. He is the father of the child: his body language, his facial expression, his voice sometimes very restrained and then almost genuinely weeping, make clear what must be—what Verdi himself translated into music: the pain of losing a child a father cherishes so. You can almost feel the full house weeping with him. Very emotional.
You get chills when bass Strahinja Djokić, the Count of Monterone, storms the stage trying to reclaim his daughter, abducted and abused. Heartbreaking is his 'roar,' his rage, his helplessness and his cursing of the jester Rigoletto who has humiliated him further. How despicable can you be? But oh no, the curse! Can it be true? A curse has power and comes to pass, the old jester panics, and that it's not for nothing will be proven later: fate will strike him as hard as it can.
In seven kinds of haste, Rigoletto tries to shield his daughter from all evil, but the pure, virginal young woman Gilda—radiating innocence and blossoming—what a delicate, soft yet full soprano with powerful coloratura is Darija Olajošćizmić—is already in love with a poor young student… None other than the Duke, who's already bribed Rigoletto's housekeeper with a fat tip. And to make it worse, the Duke's lackeys discover that the old man seems to have a young lover, and a good-looking one too. That she's his daughter they learn after the abduction and abuse in the palace by the Duke. Meanwhile, those gentlemen reward the housekeeper Magdalena (Jelena Končar), who assisted in the abduction, with her promised extra pay in a different form than this wicked woman expected: instead of a purse, she gets a dagger to the heart. Betrayal doesn't always pay.
In the palace, a building that sinks crookedly into its foundations—it stands as a symbol of decadence—father and daughter sing a gripping duet. The audience responds with an open curtain call, which happens several times in this performance and not just with applause, but with many bravos, and deservedly so!
The murder…
For Rigoletto, enough is enough. He addresses Sparafucile. A contract killer with professional pride who always keeps his word and murders whoever it may be. Value for money… Goran Krneta is a deep severe bass, somewhat dry and therefore just incisive enough and with the perfect posture for this role. The atmosphere of the story but also on stage and in the hall becomes terrifying: you feel and taste and smell the impending doom. A bunch of riffraff fills the stage with only one pure soul, Gilda. Gilda… She sacrifices her life, not only to end her heartbreak, but also to grant the contract killer's sister, an ordinary prostitute, the love of her life and that love is none other than he who sings: "La donna è mobile" (woman is fickle), the Duke of Mantua…
Gilda knows what she's doing and confidently enters the inn where she knows she'll immediately take a sword through the body and die.
Sparafucile delivers the body bag to a triumphant Rigoletto. The scoundrel is dead! Revenge has triumphed and then? Then the dead man sings… Oh curse it? It can't be and yet it is… That man is alive and well. The bag!?… The frightened fool opens the bag… Gilda. And then you get a real father. People's eyes become wet. Not only because of what Verdi wrote in the music, the death of his own children, young wife and young sister, but also the pain that the man on stage portrays, if it were his own child. The look, the hands, the posture and how softly he sings 'Gilda, mia Gilda' instead of immediately crying it out… At the back of the stage appears a small angel figure in a white dress among white flowers. It is the dying soul of Gilda stretching upward, reaching her hand toward the heaven that will soon embrace her. Even as I write these words, I relive the emotion I felt in the hall. It is the strongest moment of this entire gripping opera. For me, Verdi's greatest masterpiece, achieving the greatest result here with very limited means.
The applause? Thunderous and with countless bravos… This Rigoletto is ready for the international stage!
You know what made it even better? A street-poor Roma child of 11 years old was allowed to come along by her mom. That girl is crazy about ballet and 'beautiful singing', but well, chances? She enjoyed every second and was allowed to join the singers and director at the theater café afterward. "I'll never forget this, so beautiful!". And see? One of the artists mentioned the name of a soprano with a career, also Roma, who gives free lessons to poor children who rarely get a chance… "That's how you can become an excellent prima ballerina", said a young retired lady who once also got the chance of her lifetime. Are you rooting for that artistic, barely educated girl who returned home overjoyed?
- WHAT: Rigoletto – Libretto Francesco Maria Piave, music Giuseppe Verdi
- CONDUCTOR: Mikica Jevtić
- DIRECTION: Aleksandar Nikolić
- CHOREOGRAPHY: Aleksandar Ilić
- COSTUMES: Senka Ranosavljević
- SET DESIGN AND LIGHTING: Saša Senković and Marko Radanović
- CHOIR MASTER: Vesna Kesić Krsmanović
- CAST: Rigoletto – Zeljko R. Andrić; Gilda – Darija Olajošćizmić; Duke of Mantua – Stevan Karanac; Sparafucile – Goran Krneta; Magdalena – Jelena Končar; Count of Monterone – Strahinja Đokić
- ORCHESTRA AND CHOIR: Serbian National Theater
- WHERE & WHEN: Novi Sad, Serbian National Theater, September 25, 2019
- PHOTOS: © Srdjan Dorošski
