Parenting Lessons from Seattle Opera’s Rigoletto

Some people dislike modern productions of old operas. These are often the same folks who think Shakespeare should always be performed in Elizabethan costume (but curiously, not by men in drag). Personally, I don’t agree. I mean, I can understand the appeal of a period piece. I adore reconstructions of historical costumes, houses, and technology where every last detail is true to the original. But the appeal is usually more intellectual than emotional. Dressing a story in historical costumes and sets doesn’t necessarily distance viewers from the humanity in the story, but it often does. And rigid conformity with past practice is literally the opposite of art. Plus, the original productions were usually anachronistic themselves. How a director chooses to frame a production is an artistic choice that can fundamentally alter viewers’ understanding of the story.

Rigoletto: A Personal History

The first time I saw Rigoletto was in 2004, before either of my children were born. That production set the story in Mussolini’s Italy, which I think was a wonderful temporal compromise. It was modern enough that the power structure was easily recognizable, but distant enough to feel historical.

The second time was in 2014. It was the same production. Half the point of seeing a show in those days was getting away from the kids. My interpretation of the opera as a textbook tragedy was reinforced.

Every time I’ve seen it, I have loved every note of the music.

My First Impression

Rigoletto became my favorite opera the first time I saw it. It was the first time that I was struck by the power of the story in an opera. Usually, the story felt like a thin excuse for the singing or was just straight up crazy sauce. But in Rigoletto I found a tragedy of Shakespearean proportions. A loving father, limited by a physical disability, is only able to provide for his daughter by pandering to a villain and destroying the lives of other men’s equally loved daughters, thus earning himself enemies who ultimately exact “vengeance” on the daughter he seeks to protect. Structurally, it’s a perfect tragedy tied up in poetic justice. (Setting aside the issue of daughters as objects, and the unquestioned assumption that the suffering of all those young women was something done to their fathers.)

This Production

For this Rigoletto, director Lindy Hume was inspired by the then-contemporary Berlusconi government of Italy (and eerily prescient of pussy-grabbing 45). Post #metoo, her intent with this production was to stop ignoring the structural inequalities that encourage us to care more about Rigoletto’s pain than Gilda’s. To me, it is amazing that without changing a single note of the score or word of the libretto, the whole focus of the story can shift. Put some supernumeraries in sequins instead of hoopskirts and have others holding TV cameras instead of riding crops, and voila, the audience is no longer able to write off shocking behaviors as “the way things were back then.”

The Performances

This year I was at Doe Bay Fest on the weekend Rigoletto opened, so I could only see it on the closing weekend. Since it’s too late for any readers to see it now, I won’t spend too much time on the performances. I will say that Sparafucile must be the best role ever written for a bass. I thought Andrea Silvestrelli stole scenes in 2014, and Ante Jerkunica had me crushing on the criminal again this time. (And it was fun to get to see Emily Fons do some acting as Maddalena instead of just standing beatifically like she had to do in Steve Jobs.)

Casting

It doesn’t usually matter to me which cast I see, but I had really been looking forward to hearing Lester Lynch as Rigoletto; I really loved his voice but hated his character in Porgy & Bess, and desperately wanted to hear him in a role I like. I was also looking forward to seeing Madison Leonard again. But the only day I could attend had the opposite cast. Giuseppe Altomare’s Rigoletto was the most pathetic Rigoletto I’ve ever seen – and I mean that in the sense of “pathos.” Lynch, for all his beautiful voice, could never have been as beat-down, hopeless, and self-loathing as Altomare. His Rigoletto truly loves Gilda, but also takes advantage of this one relationship in his life where can be domineering instead of obsequious. Altomare really captured the threadbare nature of a sold-out soul.

Like so many virtuous young victims women in opera, Gilda has always seemed a bit of a cardboard cutout. In her flannel jammies, Soraya Mafi stood out not only for her exquisite voice, but also for creating a believable naïve youth.

Speaking of cliché characters: the unrepentant rapist Duke. I adored Yongzhao Yu’s characterization of the Duke of Mantua. His rich Party officer’s son with a degree in privilege was so believably smug, petulant, shallow, and self-absorbed he was fun to hate.

Oops. I talked a lot about the performances. Sorry. Moving on.

My New Impression

I still love my original take on the story of Rigoletto. But one measure of quality in art is the number of valid interpretations. Lindy Hume’s presentation of Rigoletto forces some things to the forefront that are usually left in shadow. Most importantly, “the thing” Rigoletto protects and destroys is a person with their own feelings, beliefs, and agency.

That person is particularly vulnerable because of her station in life – a young, attractive female – as well as her father’s position. As a disabled man, he does not have the physical or political power to protect her. He is only able to support her through his association with the Duke, which requires him to make a lot of enemies. He can’t look to the Duke for protection, because the Duke is himself a predator. So he keeps his daughter Gilda a secret from everyone who knows him, locked up and isolated in their small apartment. In the historical context of the story, it’s a practical solution to a very real problem.

That kind of specificity is useful for water-tight plotting, but over the centuries, it can detract from the point. After 150 years, we want the human truths, not the archaic social details.

Rigoletto on Parenting

With a contemporary framing, Rigoletto’s protectiveness is revealed as harmful to Gilda’s development – she is not, after all, a statue that can be kept safe in a case. When we are reminded of Gilda’s humanity from the beginning, we realize that she is also vulnerable because she is ignorant.

Gilda doesn’t know about guys like the Duke. She doesn’t have words for what she feels after being assaulted, so she mistakes her feelings for love. She has literally never had an experience in her life, so she doesn’t know the difference between doing something incredibly stupid and something brave. I am so very over the suicide as agency trope, but in this context, Gilda’s choice made sense as the result of inexperience, overwhelm, and confusion rather than old-fashioned TSTL-heroine complex.

I brought my 15-year-old daughter with me to see Rigoletto this time. I was a little nervous about bringing her to a show based on violence against women. I was relieved that she rolled her eyes at Gilda’s gullibility. I can’t always be there to protect her, and Rigoletto is a reminder that protection is less effective than preparation. I want my daughter to know a creep when she sees one, and it’s so much better to learn creep ID from art than from experience.

The Details

Rigoletto

Music by Giuseppe Verdi
Libretto by Francesco Maria Piave
In Italian with English captions
Premiere: Venice, Teatro La Fenice, March 11, 1851
Previous Seattle Opera Performances: 1965, 1973, 1982, 1988, 1995, 2004, 2014
Performances: Aug. 10, 11, 14, 17, 18, 23, 24, 25, & 28, 2019
Approximate Running Time: 2 hours, 30 minutes including one intermission

Cast I Saw

Rigoletto Giuseppe Altomare*
Gilda Soraya Mafi
Duke Yongzhao Yu*
Sparafucile Ante Jerkunica
Maddalena Emily Fons
Giovanna Nerys Jones
Ct Monterone Clayton Brainerd
Ct Ceprano Jonathan Silvia
Borsa Bernard Holcomb
Marullo Barry Johnson
Conductor Carlo Montanaro
Director Lindy Hume
Ass. StageDir. DanielPelzig
Prod Des Richard Roberts*
Lighting Des Jason Morphett
Fight Chor Geoffrey Alm
Chorusmaster John Keene

* Company Debut