Rigoletto

Verdi’s tragedy Rigoletto is central to the repertoire, coming in at number seven on the list of the most popular titles worldwide as compiled by the website Operabase. The first night of this new production represented the 518th occasion on which it has been staged at Covent Garden. Yet, despite its ongoing popularity, it’s not an easy nut to crack.

The evening was notable in marking the house debut as director of Oliver Mears – the company’s director of opera since March 2017: Covid had prevented him making an earlier appearance.

The last production of Rigoletto was undistinguished, and it would have been no great feat to surpass it. Mears and his colleagues easily do so, and there’s an evident seriousness of purpose to the new staging that is unwavering.

The central narrative is full of cruelty. Here there’s a terrible moment of brutality at the end of the first scene, when the Duke himself blinds Monterone for upbraiding him publicly for his moral delinquency.

The visuals blend ancient and modern. Simon Lima Holdsworth’s sets, with their emblematic Renaissance paintings – one of the things the Duke collects as well as women – form a cogent background commentary. Aided by Fabiana Piccioli’s lighting, the final storm scene by the desolate river is extraordinarily powerful.

Ilona Karas’s costumes skilfully highlight the characters and their situations, especially in the flamboyant opening party scene – an immoral governing class at deeply sinister play.

Individual performances are generally strong. Carlos Álvarez maintains vocal stamina in the title-role – generally accepted to be the most taxing baritone part in the entire Italian repertoire – while, dramatically, his accursed jester is never less than considered.

Lisette Oropesa has all Gilda’s notes at her command and manages the tricky task of conveying her character’s almost terrifying innocence. As her spiritual opposite the Duke, Liparit Avetisyan shines vocally but is less clearly defined dramatically and bland at times.

Brindley Sherratt seems to discover new depths in standard roles every time he sings them; I don’t expect to see or hear his Sparafucile bettered. No doubt encouraged by Mears, Ramona Zaharia discovers infinite tragedy in the assassin’s accomplice and sister, the drunken Maddalena. Uncharacteristically, on this occasion Eric Greene doesn’t quite cut it vocally as Monterone.

There is strong work from the chorus and orchestra, with authoritative Verdian conductor Antonio Pappano frequently revealing either new things or setting old things in a new light.

The first night was dedicated to the late Graham Vick who, over the decades, worked at Covent Garden many times. It shares with his best work a vigour and a rigour in searching out new truths waiting to be discovered in even the most familiar warhorses.