Wallis Giunta (Cinderella) and Matthew Grills (Don Ramiro). Sunny Martini photo c/o Seattle Opera
Few opera composers are as well-loved (especially at my
house) as Rossini, and everyone loves a fairy tale. Rossini’s opera is actually
named La Cenerentola, which is a mouthful. If it’s easier, he also
called it Goodness Triumphant. But it’s a good idea to use one of these names
rather than the more familiar one, because Rossini’s Cinderella is not Disney’s
Cinderella. And the “long ago in a land far away” of Seattle Opera’s Cenerentola
is Dickensian London.
Giuseppe Altomare makes his Seattle Opera debut as the title character in Rigoletto.
Sunny Martini photo c/o Seattle Opera
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.