Are clowns ever truly funny? Ronald McDonald? Not funny. Bozo the Clown? Pathetic. Krusty, the cigarette-smoking, Russian-immigrant clown on the animated TV series, “The Simpsons”? Twisted. “The Joker” from Batman? Scary. In opera, there is Rigoletto, the hunchbacked court jester in the eponymous opera by Verdi, appearing at the Santa Fe Opera this summer. Rigoletto is known for his wicked tongue and malicious sense of humor in the Duke of Mantua’s palace, although at home, behind closed doors, he is a dedicated Dad. This dichotomy can offer an acting singer a lot to work with.
Rigoletto’s job in the court of the Duke of Mantua, like that of many jesters, is not only to be a “charming” voice of satire and derision, but also to serve as an advisor on matters both political and social. Rigoletto’s boss is a Don Juan-type, interested in sexual conquest more than war. Historically, military leaders would send their jesters to negotiate with opposing armies, using a little humor along the way. Maybe it’s Rigoletto’s access to power, but in this court, everyone seems to hate him. Court-think has it that the woman he is hiding is a mistress instead of his daughter, Gilda. His laughing rivals set a joke kidnapping in motion which turns horribly wrong. But, of course, Rigoletto is also no angel. He has few qualms about paying for a hit-man to knock off a rival. This is not comic territory.
Rigoletto is not at all a sweet romance between an innocent soprano and a handsome tenor. Instead, it’s all lust and lying. Then there is the music. Some of Verdi’s greatest hits can be found in the score, but it’s almost shocking that the big tenor aria, the Duke’s song ‘La donna è mobile’, which has a pleasing, minuet-style lilt to it, occurs near the end of the opera, after all the most despicable qualities of the nobleman have come to light. He sings this gorgeous ditty to a woman he is trying to seduce, as the woman who loves him listens, her world collapsing.
“La donna e mobile” Lyrics in English
Woman is fickle Like a feather in the wind
She changes her voice — and her mind.
Always sweet,
Pretty face,
In tears or in laughter, — she is always lying.
Always miserable
Is he who trusts her,
He who confides in her — his unwary heart!
Yet one never feels
Fully happy
Who on that bosom — does not drink love!
Woman is fickle
Like a feather in the wind,
She changes her voice — and her mind,
And her mind,
And her mind!
Santa Fe’s production features the radiant Elena Villalón as Gilda, Duke Kim, a former Apprentice, as the Duke (a role he was born/or at least named to play?) and a last-minute replacement, Michael Chioldi, in the role of Rigoletto. Villalón shone in the coloratura passages of her aria, “Carro Nome,” about the ecstasy of first love (even to a womanizer), and even managed to project a beautiful tone lying down, from a burlap sack.
Kim, who has been winning vocal competitions and awarded such jobs as the title roles in “Faust” and “Roméo et Juliette” and Alfredo in “La Traviata”, looks young for his age. What might be perfect casting for Romeo looked a little iffy for the womanizing Duke in “Rigoletto.” His performance offered confidence and a strong vocal presence, but his youthful appearance seemed wrong for the jaded sex-fiend of this opera.—his physical vigor and jaunty stage presence communicated a certain innocence about him, rather than a world-weariness.
Michael Chioldi, who replaced Gerardo Bullón a week before opening night, appeared in the same role at the Metropolitan Opera in New York, in 2022, and recently portrayed Tonio, the fool, in another sad clown opera “Pagliacci” with Palm Beach Opera. Chioldi, possibly old enough to be the real-life Duke Kim’s father, offers the appropriate gravitas to the role, but just doesn’t click dramatically with his boss. Vocally, he had the goods, a dramatic baritone quality with richness and emotional shading.
Count Monterone, played by Le Bu, who sets the drama of the opera in motion by sending Rigoletto “La maledizione,” the curse, was strong in voice and acting. Sparafucil, Stephano Park, and Maddalena, Marcela Rahal, both offered appropriately sleazy characters sounding appropriately delicious. It’s a bad, bad world.
While the set, by Jamie Vartan, opened itself beautifully to the Santa Fe sunset, the design, based on the directorial vision of Julien Chavaz, featured an abstract palace with flocked, patterned wallpaper and walls of 1970’s lights which were reminiscent of the Broadway-style razzmatazz of a production of “Chicago.” In addition, there was the decision to choreograph the chorus, as members of the royal court, in jarring unison bits of dance, another touch of Broadway. The costumes, by Jean-Jacques Delmotte, had the courtiers matching the wallpaper. Several male performers were unfortunately asked to wear the balloon-style Renaissance pantaloons called pumpkin pants, which looked particularly silly in the wallpaper pattern. Other lighting ideas featured moveable cordless table lamps by the dozen, which added a glow and texture to the stage, but didn’t exactly make sense.
The orchestra, under the direction of Carlo Montanaro, had a few issues with the tuning of the brass section. However, the rousing Verdi score was played with energy and the appropriate Italian lushness.
