San Francisco Classical Voice

OPERA REVIEW

San Francisco Opera
Rigoletto

September 30, 2006

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A Sure Thing

By Michael Zwiebach

There are so few sure things in life, death and taxes aside — for an opera impresario, Rigoletto starring Paolo Gavanelli, qualifies. That’s why opera fans were abuzz about the revival at the War Memorial Opera House, and that’s why David Gockley has scheduled it to be the next outdoor live simulcast (on Oct. 6). Gavanelli was joined by a superior cast on Saturday in a performance conducted with deep understanding by Stephen Lord. The Giorgio Chirico-inspired sets by Michael Yeargan were as visually arresting as ever, but the real story was the performers. Sing Verdi’s opera this well and you could successfully set it inside a phone booth.

Gavanelli has specialized in Rigoletto, singing it 163 times in his career so far. That statistic alone indicates how much Verdi put into this role. When Gavanelli plays it, you understand why Verdi called the character "worthy of Shakespeare." The composer expected the baritone in the role to sing, but also to use his voice like an actor, changing colors and delivery to suit the situation. (Interestingly, Felice Varesi, the same singer who performed in the premiere of Rigoletto in 1850, also had the title role in Verdi’s Macbeth in 1847.) Contrast is the key to a great Rigoletto.

Gavanelli has a bewildering array of colors in his voice, with which he inflects lines in unexpected directions. His shaping of the famous monologue, Pari siamo ("We’re equals"), is an excellent indication of the power of this performance. Gavanelli began matter-of-factly, comparing himself to the murderer Sparafucile. He gave a haunted, sotto voce reading of the line, "The old man cursed me." Gavanelli was scrupulous in observing the score, never mistaking volume for intensity as he spitefully raged at humanity and nature.

And when he suddenly broke off with, "here my nature changes," indicating the house where his daughter Gilda waits, he twisted the last word with a staccato accent as he was reminded of the curse. Verdi changed the accompaniment precisely on the word cangio, but few baritones pounce on the clue so clearly. That small detail set up the false heartiness a moment later of, "that’s madness," when the character tries to shake off his foreboding.

As a good actor should, Gavanelli was able to make these changes instantly and naturally, with his face and body as well as his voice. By doing so, in the Act One scene with Gilda, he heightened the contrast between his jealous guardianship and his need for her love. He snapped at her roughly, and but a second later, almost in the same breath, he launched a caressingly lyrical phrase. And so he went throughout the evening, piling up detail after detail. It was a truly monumental performance.

Talent to match

In Mary Dunleavy, San Francisco found a Gilda who could not only stand comparison with the beloved Ruth Ann Swenson of a decade ago, but who was also a strong partner for Gavanelli. Of course, the key with Gilda is absolute spontaneity. Dunleavy was as convincing in the part as anybody could be. Her phrases floated effortlessly on the breath, rising and falling with absolute naturalness. Her pure tone was bewitching, and even the most artfully controlled diminuendo was delivered with unaffected simplicity. She made clear the contradiction in her character — Gilda loves Rigoletto, but she needs to escape his control. And so she earned a measure of tragic dignity, rather than just seeming naive.

Giuseppe Gipali was a welcome newcomer as the Duke. Not as robust as some tenors in this role (especially in the lower register), he nevertheless has a beautiful head voice. And it’s tremendously flexible above the staff — all the ornaments came off clearly and fluidly. In duet with Dunleavy he showed good dramatic sense, an ability to shape a line and to also sing softly. (Always compliment a tenor on this when you hear it.)

The supporting roles were fairly well cast. As Sparafucile, Kristinn Sigmundsson used his powerful deep bass and physical presence to frightening effect, with lots of stamping and threatening gestures directed at Maddalena. Katherine Rohrer, despite her name, has a fine, full-bodied mezzo. Her Maddalena was a tough cookie, refusing to be menaced by her looming brother. Greer Grimsley was a granitelike, severe Monterone, and the Adler Fellows in the remaining roles acquitted themselves well, especially Eugene Brancoveanu as Marullo. In the category of No Small Roles, Kendall Gladen introduced a welcome note of comedy as Giovanna.

Stephen Lord is that rare conductor who doesn’t feel the need to push every tempo in Rigoletto. He partnered his singers perfectly and gave everything its proper weight — he was master of the score’s details, and the orchestra played superbly for him. The chorus was in great form. Kudos to chorus director Ian Robertson for their spooky "Monterone" and the finely graded singing of the ensemble sections of the prologue.