A Riveting Rigoletto

Photo by David Allen

 

Opera San Jose

February 17, 2024

The opening scene of Opera San Jose’s Rigoletto is so intense and perfect that it may lift you right out of your seat. It has a lot to do with Steven C. Kemp’s uber-masculine set, black pillars with blood-red draperies. And Mr. Howard Tsvi Kaplan’s costumes, dark with metallic inlays, which make the Mantuan court look like some badass medieval street gang.

It has mostly to do with the jester Rigoletto and his boss-enemy, the Duke. Eugene Brancoveanu brings to the former a servile desperation with an underlying air of danger, like a veteran with PTSD issues. Instead of the traditional hump, he sports a painful-looking scar across his temple (Christina Martin, makeup design), revealed later to be a kind of brand maintained by the Duke to keep him under his thumb. Brancoveanu has a magnificent baritone, equipped for rough postures, but capable of drawing back for the jester’s more frail moments. He also deploys fine touches, like the butterfly tra-las he lets fly during the court dance, or the odd commedia poses he strikes at key moments.

Our Duke is Edward Graves, an imposing presence with a delicious lirico spinto tenor. On the Duke of Mantua Continuum, from Don Giovanni playboy to pure evil Caligula, Graves errs on the side of “I will do whatever I want and you will like it.” This adds extra force when he very intentionally humiliates the Count Ceprano by making free use of his wife, then blithely dismisses the stentorian threats of Monterone (bass-baritone Philip Skinner) as the poor man demands the whereabouts of his daughter. When Monterone subsequenty lays down a curse, Brancoveanu nearly melts into the stage with anxiety. Graves, meanwhile, finds his vocal apex later with “Bella figlia dell’amore,” with which he somewhat unnecessarily seduces the assassin’s sister Maddalena.

The machismo continues with the assassin Sparafucile, who accosts Rigoletto outside his home and offers his services. Bass-baritone Ashraf Sewailam’s tone is like blackened barbecue ribs, and his stage presence is fringed with menace.

Rigoletto arrives home to his daughter and reconfirms his security demands to housemaid Giovanna in the fetching cabaletta “Ah! Veglia, o donna.” This and his later pleas to the courtiers are the most heartbreaking moments in Brancoveanu’s performance.

Melissa Sondhi plays Rigoletto’s daughter Gilda with a sweet, light tone. The lightness is no sin - Gildas tend to go this way - but Sondhi’s voice pales next to her powerhouse males, and the top notes of “Caro nome” are hesitant and pinched. The lack of power is also an issue for mezzo Melisa Bonetti Luna as Maddalena. She does, however, capture the twisted sister’s sexiness, and her misguided affections for the Duke.

Stage director Dan Wallace makes some intriguing choices. To Rigoletto’s scar he adds a case of syphilis for the Duke, who is shown having his pox bandaged by a servant. Wallace also works with fight choreographer Dave Maier to construct a final killing that is brutal and chaotic. In a sense, Maddalena’s multiple dagger-thrusts are much more real and upsetting than the traditional approach, in which the disguised Gilda accepts Sparafucile’s knife like someone embracing a lover.

Under conductor Jorge Parodi, the orchestra plays beautifully, beginning with that deceptively simple, lushly powerful overture. It’s almost like a content warning on a movie: This will NOT be a happy story.

Through March 3 at the California Theatre, 345 S. 1st St. $55-$195. operasj.org, 408/437-4450.

Michael J. Vaughn is a 40-year opera critic and the author of the novel Punks for the Opera, available at Amazon.