Oh, Baby!
That Duke Sure Is a Dreamboat
That Duke Sure Is a Dreamboat
By DANIEL J. WAKIN
Published: February 8, 2013
My sights are set on a swingin’ girl, So hop on, baby, let’s take that whirl!
— Giuseppe Verdi, 1813-1901
Yes, it sounds more like Dean Martin. But that couplet comes from Verdi, at least at the Metropolitan Opera these days. The lines are among the seat-back titles for the Met’s current run of “Rigoletto,” which has its next performance on Friday night.
The director, Michael Mayer, has set the production in 1960 Las Vegas, transferring the thuggish morality of the court of 16th-century Mantua to the neon-lighted, satin-jacket world of Dino, Sammy and Frank.
Setting operas from past centuries in recent times is a staple of opera direction today, especially in Europe, and it sparks feuds between traditionalists and updaters as regularly as the sun rises. But the Met production has a particularly unusual aspect: titles that go beyond the libretto, written by Francesco Maria Piave, to a degree rarely seen at the house.
The liberties push the envelope on how an opera that had its premiere in 1851 Venice can be produced in 2013 New York. An examination of the titles also illuminates the delicate but obscure art of telegraphing an opera’s libretto in brief flashes of two 38-character lines (an early form of tweeting, perhaps) without distracting the viewer from what is on the stage or straying too far from the meaning of the text.
Take the quote above about swingin’ girls, in which the Duke discusses his philosophy of seduction in the aria “Questa o quella.” The Italian literally reads, “I would defy even the hundred eyes of Argus if a beautiful woman strikes me.”
Hop on, baby!
The subtitles also use words and phrases like “yikes,” “get a load of the new dupe,” “jackpot,” “pack of lousy, rotten rats,” “home run” and “dreamboat,” none of which, it is safe to say, would have been uttered by Verdi or Piave. The Count of Monterone, who appears in traditional Arab robes to deliver his curse, is called “Your Sheikness.” “Signor” becomes “big shot,” “bella” becomes “knockout,” “fool” becomes “funnyman” or “jerk.”
At the dramatic climax, when Rigoletto thinks he is standing before the Duke’s body (alas, it is that of his daughter, Gilda), he declares in Italian that his nemesis “lies at my feet.” The Met title has Rigoletto say, “And now I’m the headliner!”
The orchestra plays the notes as Verdi wrote them, and the singers sing Piave’s original words. But the English-speaking audience member reading the titles gains a very different impression of Piave’s language.
The opera’s creative team says the titles are simply an extension of the opera’s updated setting.
“In terms of the tone, we wanted to capture some of that ‘bada-bing,’ that sort of swinging, Rat Pack ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ language,” Mr. Mayer said. “Why not make it as fresh and relevant to what’s happening visually as possible? The fewer disconnects the better.”
Peter Gelb, the Met’s general manager, pointed out that titles have always been loosely rendered, omitting words or changing elements mentioned in the original libretto.
The goal is clarity and coherent storytelling, he said, especially when an opera’s setting has been so drastically changed. “You’re obliged to have the titles go along,” he said. “Otherwise you pull the rug out from under the change of setting.”
J. D. McClatchy, a poet, librettist and sometime Met title maker, said that once a director sets the course, there is no choice but to follow. “That’s what makes me very nervous about directors,” he said, speaking in general terms, “that they will change things to suit themselves, rather than the text they’ve been given to interpret.”
Paul Cremo, the Met dramaturge and the man who oversees the titles, said that updating 19th-century language was a delicate balancing act. Titles should not wander too far from “what’s actually being said,” he added, yet convey meaning quickly as the opera train rushes on, match the production’s style and present the essential meaning of the text.
“It’s an exercise in minimalism,” he said.
For “Rigoletto,” Spanish and German versions are also available, as well as a straight Italian condensation reflecting the more archaic original. (Italian is now included for Italian operas, thanks to a request by the Italian consul, Mr. Gelb said.)
New York City Opera introduced projected titles to the United States in 1983, showing them above the stage. Twelve years later the Met installed its seat-back system. Now, the vast majority of opera houses in the world have some sort of titling.
At the Met, a cue caller watches monitors of the conductor and stage and follows along with an annotated score, signaling the moment for each title. A technician presses a button to activate it.
Michael Panayos is the house’s head title man. In the case of “Rigoletto,” which runs through May 1, he and Mr. Cremo took an existing set of “Rigoletto” titles and rejiggered them to match as closely as possible Mr. Mayer’s Rat Pack spirit. “It was like being in the writers’ room of a TV show,” Mr. Cremo said.
In “Questa o quella,” the Duke is a Sinatra-like figure delivering the aria as a lounge singer, holding a microphone and surrounded by showgirls. Mr. Cremo said he and Mr. Panayos read through the lyrics of Sinatra songs to find the right spirit.
Of the “Hop on, baby” couplet, Mr. Cremo said: “I don’t think it’s that far off. It’s a very hip, finger-snappy, Rat Pack way of saying it.”
Mr. Mayer said some tweaks were made after opening night, including cutting “Arab” from references to the curse to avoid distracting audiences from the general nature of the malediction.
Mr. McClatchy said he liked the “Rigoletto” titles but could not resist suggesting some tweaking of his own. “I was surprised the titles didn’t go a little further,” he said. “I would have called him Duke, not the Duke.”
And he suggested naming the seedy bar run by the assassin Sparafucile and his seductive sister Maddalena the “S&M Club.”
Mayer’s ‘Rigoletto,’ set in Vegas, opens at Met
By By Ronald Blum
http://www.salon.com/2013/01/29/mayers_rigoletto_set_in_vegas_opens_at_met/
NEW YORK (AP) — For all the bright lights and razzle-dazzle of the Las Vegas locale, the most illuminating stretches in Michael Mayer’s showy new production of “Rigoletto” at the Metropolitan Opera occurred when the three commanding singers were left alone at the front of the stage and the splashy scenery receded into the background.
The opening-act fan dancers were distracting and the third-act topless stripper/hooker was gratuitous. Countess Ceprano resembled Marilyn Monroe and the Count of Monterone was an Arab sheik. Gilda was carried off in a sarcophagus when she was kidnapped, then died in the trunk of a Cadillac Coupe Deville.
Clearly this wasn’t the “Rigoletto” that played at the Met 841 previous times over 129 years.
Overall, Mayer’s transfer of Verdi’s first great middle-period opera from 16th-century Mantua to a 1960 hotel and casino on the Strip resulted in straightforward storytelling. The gamble with regietheater was largely successful, an entertaining, bold rendition that some will conclude lacks new insight and others will find frenetic and fun. The notoriously conservative Met audience mostly cheered the Tony-winning director following Monday night’s production premiere, with only a few boos scattered in.
In her first performance since giving birth to her second child in October, Diana Damrau gave a searing, loving portrayal of Gilda, a total melding of her silvery soprano with the persona of a vulnerable, confused young girl, unsure how to deal with her overprotective father and sexual awakening amid the bawdy decadence of Sin City.
Zeljko Lucic let loose a fierce and pained baritone as Rigoletto, combining with Damrau for an unforgettable second-act duet filled with emotion, inflection and even tears. Piotr Beczala as the Duke was a breezy, sleazy leader of the Rat Pack, a Frank Sinatra-type lurching from bender to hookup. His arias were winning and convincing, his tenor perhaps underpowered by the slightest tad.
Even before opening night, there was sharp disagreement among aficionados over Mayer’s switch from the Renaissance Palazzo Ducale to a casino floor filled with slot machines, gambling tables and faux neon. The photos and videos posted on the Met’s Facebook page inflamed factions pro and con that contemptuously regard each other as Luddites and Jacobins.
*
Rigoletto, Metropolitan Opera live cinema relay, 16 February 2013
http://markronan.wordpress.com/2013/02/17/rigoletto-metropolitan-opera-live-cinema-relay-16-february-2013/
The idea of Rigoletto in early 1960s Las Vegas during the days of the Rat Pack made me apprehensive, but the superb sets by Christine Jones and costumes by Susan Hilferty won me over completely. Count Monterone as an Arab sheikh, the colourful tuxedos of the men, the stylish dark green and purple of Sparafucile’s two different costumes, and the vanity plate on his car gave a terrific sense of atmosphere, and I loved the neon rain and lightning for the storm outside Sparafucile’s tavern in Act III.
Quibbles later, but the singing was wonderful. Željko Lučić was a well toned Rigoletto, and Piotr Beczala as the Duke hit the high notes, and his soliloquy Ella mi fu rapita at the start of Act II — when for four or five minutes he regrets losing Gilda — was beautifully delivered. As Gilda herself, Diana Damrau sang very sweetly. The duet with her father Rigoletto in Act I formed a touching scene, and her later recollection of the Duke, using the false name he has given her, Gaultier Maldè … core innammorato! came through with a sweet naivety that reappeared at the end as she promises to pray for her father from heaven.
Keeping her sheltered from the wiles and wickedness of the Duke’s casino where he works is his business, but taking vengeance and deciding to be the instrument of Monterone’s curse is to take on the role of God. Yet there is only one god in this story, namely the Duke who exercises absolute power, or at least is supposed to. This didn’t quite manifest itself in Michael Mayer’s production, though that is a minor quibble.
However I liked the way Sparafucile was portrayed, and Štefan Kocán sang the role with great finesse. Oksana Volkova made a very colourful and sexy Maddalena, and Robert Pomakov gave a wonderful rendering of Monterone’s utterances. The Arabian gear was a clever notion, as was the idea of using the trunk of a car rather than a sack for the dead body, allowing the stage to be dark while the body was lit up with the trunk open.
The main problem for me came with a lack of operatic drama at the end when Rigoletto realises his daughter is the victim of his own plot. For one thing he just seemed too nice a guy to undertake a murder, and he didn’t seem sufficiently shocked that the body was that of his beloved daughter rather than the Duke. Perhaps Michele Mariotti’s conducting could have helped more here by giving a sense of trembling and urgency when Rigoletto sings Dio! … mia figlia. As it was the ending felt more like a that of a musical than a Verdi opera.
Italian conductor Michele Mariotti leads the new production premiere of Rigoletto, seen in a new staging by the Tony Award-winning director Michael Mayer in his Met debut. Mayer’s approach transports the story from 16th-century Italy to Las Vegas in 1960, with a cast led by Željko Lučić in the title role, Diana Damrau as his daughter, Gilda, Piotr Beczala as the Duke of Mantua, Štefan Kocán as the assassin Sparafucile, and Oksana Volkova in her Met debut as Sparafucile’s seductive sister, Maddalena. “I’ve tried to imagine a recent world that captures the decadence of the Duke’s palace, where the participants are in pursuit of power, money, and beauty,” Mayer says. “Las Vegas in the ‘60s is such a world, where a kind of prankster energy could go bad—it’s the epitome of the kinds of events that happen in Rigoletto.”
Rigoletto at the Met set in Las Vegas
Mayer’s ‘Rigoletto,’ set in Vegas, opens at Met
By By Ronald Blum
http://www.salon.com/2013/01/29/mayers_rigoletto_set_in_vegas_opens_at_met/
NEW YORK (AP) — For all the bright lights and razzle-dazzle of the Las Vegas locale, the most illuminating stretches in Michael Mayer’s showy new production of “Rigoletto” at the Metropolitan Opera occurred when the three commanding singers were left alone at the front of the stage and the splashy scenery receded into the background.
The opening-act fan dancers were distracting and the third-act topless stripper/hooker was gratuitous. Countess Ceprano resembled Marilyn Monroe and the Count of Monterone was an Arab sheik. Gilda was carried off in a sarcophagus when she was kidnapped, then died in the trunk of a Cadillac Coupe Deville.
Clearly this wasn’t the “Rigoletto” that played at the Met 841 previous times over 129 years.
Overall, Mayer’s transfer of Verdi’s first great middle-period opera from 16th-century Mantua to a 1960 hotel and casino on the Strip resulted in straightforward storytelling. The gamble with regietheater was largely successful, an entertaining, bold rendition that some will conclude lacks new insight and others will find frenetic and fun. The notoriously conservative Met audience mostly cheered the Tony-winning director following Monday night’s production premiere, with only a few boos scattered in.
In her first performance since giving birth to her second child in October, Diana Damrau gave a searing, loving portrayal of Gilda, a total melding of her silvery soprano with the persona of a vulnerable, confused young girl, unsure how to deal with her overprotective father and sexual awakening amid the bawdy decadence of Sin City.
Zeljko Lucic let loose a fierce and pained baritone as Rigoletto, combining with Damrau for an unforgettable second-act duet filled with emotion, inflection and even tears. Piotr Beczala as the Duke was a breezy, sleazy leader of the Rat Pack, a Frank Sinatra-type lurching from bender to hookup. His arias were winning and convincing, his tenor perhaps underpowered by the slightest tad.
Even before opening night, there was sharp disagreement among aficionados over Mayer’s switch from the Renaissance Palazzo Ducale to a casino floor filled with slot machines, gambling tables and faux neon. The photos and videos posted on the Met’s Facebook page inflamed factions pro and con that contemptuously regard each other as Luddites and Jacobins.
*
Rigoletto, Metropolitan Opera live cinema relay, 16 February 2013
http://markronan.wordpress.com/2013/02/17/rigoletto-metropolitan-opera-live-cinema-relay-16-february-2013/
The idea of Rigoletto in early 1960s Las Vegas during the days of the Rat Pack made me apprehensive, but the superb sets by Christine Jones and costumes by Susan Hilferty won me over completely. Count Monterone as an Arab sheikh, the colourful tuxedos of the men, the stylish dark green and purple of Sparafucile’s two different costumes, and the vanity plate on his car gave a terrific sense of atmosphere, and I loved the neon rain and lightning for the storm outside Sparafucile’s tavern in Act III.
The Duke in his casino, all images MetOpera/ Ken Howard
Quibbles later, but the singing was wonderful. Željko Lučić was a well toned Rigoletto, and Piotr Beczala as the Duke hit the high notes, and his soliloquy Ella mi fu rapita at the start of Act II — when for four or five minutes he regrets losing Gilda — was beautifully delivered. As Gilda herself, Diana Damrau sang very sweetly. The duet with her father Rigoletto in Act I formed a touching scene, and her later recollection of the Duke, using the false name he has given her, Gaultier Maldè … core innammorato! came through with a sweet naivety that reappeared at the end as she promises to pray for her father from heaven.
Rigoletto and Gilda, Act I
Keeping her sheltered from the wiles and wickedness of the Duke’s casino where he works is his business, but taking vengeance and deciding to be the instrument of Monterone’s curse is to take on the role of God. Yet there is only one god in this story, namely the Duke who exercises absolute power, or at least is supposed to. This didn’t quite manifest itself in Michael Mayer’s production, though that is a minor quibble.
Rigoletto and Sparafucile
However I liked the way Sparafucile was portrayed, and Štefan Kocán sang the role with great finesse. Oksana Volkova made a very colourful and sexy Maddalena, and Robert Pomakov gave a wonderful rendering of Monterone’s utterances. The Arabian gear was a clever notion, as was the idea of using the trunk of a car rather than a sack for the dead body, allowing the stage to be dark while the body was lit up with the trunk open.
Gilda dies
The main problem for me came with a lack of operatic drama at the end when Rigoletto realises his daughter is the victim of his own plot. For one thing he just seemed too nice a guy to undertake a murder, and he didn’t seem sufficiently shocked that the body was that of his beloved daughter rather than the Duke. Perhaps Michele Mariotti’s conducting could have helped more here by giving a sense of trembling and urgency when Rigoletto sings Dio! … mia figlia. As it was the ending felt more like a that of a musical than a Verdi opera.
Italian conductor Michele Mariotti leads the new production premiere of Rigoletto, seen in a new staging by the Tony Award-winning director Michael Mayer in his Met debut. Mayer’s approach transports the story from 16th-century Italy to Las Vegas in 1960, with a cast led by Željko Lučić in the title role, Diana Damrau as his daughter, Gilda, Piotr Beczala as the Duke of Mantua, Štefan Kocán as the assassin Sparafucile, and Oksana Volkova in her Met debut as Sparafucile’s seductive sister, Maddalena. “I’ve tried to imagine a recent world that captures the decadence of the Duke’s palace, where the participants are in pursuit of power, money, and beauty,” Mayer says. “Las Vegas in the ‘60s is such a world, where a kind of prankster energy could go bad—it’s the epitome of the kinds of events that happen in Rigoletto.”
Rigoletto at the Met set in Las Vegas
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