A dress rehearsal is always a kind of paradox. Last Sunday, the invited audience, generally familiar with the Italian repertoire, was able to relive the highlights of this opera, savor the emotion stirred by the “well-known” arias, shiver thanks to the staging of a plot that the composer and librettist intended to be as dark as it is intense; in short, like any audience, to be carried away by the magic of the evening. However, one must not forget the essential characteristic of a “dress rehearsal” which, as opposed to a “performance,” the Anglo-Saxons refer to as “marking”: the artists are not obliged to give the full power of their voices, sometimes allowing themselves, according to some specialists, to “speak rather than sing,” or even to sing an octave lower. With this useful precaution in mind, it becomes possible to narrate to the reader what happened last Sunday in the Saint-François-de-Paule opera hall.
A paradox perhaps suited to this Verdi opera: Rigoletto, the story of a court jester whose very name suggests light comedy, turns out to be a terrible tragedy interwoven with passion, betrayal, power, filial love, revenge, and murder. Enough said.
The overture leaves no room for ambiguity: upon hearing the first measures played by the Nice Philharmonic Orchestra under the direction of Marco Guidarini, the strings are called upon to create the suspenseful atmosphere that precedes a crescendo of the entire ensemble, symbolizing in its somber musical tone an ending we do not anticipate as happy.
Verdi experienced similar challenges with censorship as Victor Hugo’s play (“The King Amuses Himself”), from which he drew inspiration for Rigoletto. The Emperor of Austria, whose armies occupied Northern Italy at the time, could hardly accept, just as the King of France could not with Hugo’s work, that the dissolute mores of the greats of this world be depicted before a wide audience. The Italian composer ultimately had to negotiate directly with an imperial censor regarding the most controversial points of his creation. As a compromise, the storyline would be preserved, but the rank of the characters would be downgraded, so to speak: instead of untouchable emperors and kings, the disgrace would focus on the nobility for all their unspeakable turpitude.
Let us return to last Sunday evening’s “dress rehearsal.” Rigoletto was the tragic and central hero, of whom it is not an exaggeration to say that he did great honor to this heavy burden. Even though it was not obligatory, as previously explained, the baritone Carlos Almaguer must have felt sufficiently comfortable to offer the audience the best of the work… and especially of himself: a beautiful and broad voice, well “grounded,” combining flexibility and mastery to effortlessly transition into diverse and strikingly convincing singing roles — from love and anxiety to supplication and blind anger. A magnificent “performance” indeed, widely applauded by a grateful audience. One cannot overlook the deliberately overt nod from director Paul-Emile Fourny to Mozart’s Don Giovanni. The two appearances under a pale light by the Count Monterone, who announces the prophetic “Curse” with his magnificent bass voice, are reminiscent, both scenically and vocally, of the imposing “Commander statue”.
It is likely that the four performances scheduled from October 31 will give artists the chance to further demonstrate the full range of their singing and acting capabilities. Led by a Rigoletto as masterfully promising, this production by the Nice Opera House is expected to achieve true and deserved success among the audience.
Rigoletto, Opera in 3 Acts by Giuseppe Verdi
Wednesday, October 31, 8 p.m.; Friday, November 2, 8 p.m.; Sunday, November 4, 2:30 p.m.; Tuesday, November 6, 8 p.m.;
Bookings-Information: 04 92 17 40 79
