UK Edition
Review
ENO should have left Jonathan Miller's Rigoletto on the shelf - review
English National Opera has been accused of many things, but promoting opera as a museum art has not – until now – been one of them. Yet there is a distinct whiff of the musty display cabinet about its resuscitation of Jonathan Miller’s Rigoletto, once regarded as something of a Coliseum classic.
Last seen in 2009, the production had, it was thought, been consigned to the knacker’s yard. It was replaced in 2014 by a hand-me-down version by Christopher Alden, but when that flopped the company evidently decided to rescue its signature relic.
In hindsight, ENO might have shown more artistic conviction by finding a director with something to say about Verdi’s masterpiece. The first night looked full, and let’s hope the run does some much-needed business. But, although this “Little Italy” production has been nicely polished up (under Elaine Tyler-Hall’s supervision) to remind us of its visual cleverness – not least the Godfather costumes and Hopperesque night bar – it remains crippled by its directorial non-sequiturs.
Once regarded as a “modern” staging, this tame old show reduces the work’s essential tragedy to routines barely a notch above musical comedy, but stronger performances would at least help to disguise that. Even the enormously experienced Richard Armstrong conducts as if the fire has gone out, and although he summons up some dramatic tension in the final act his steady baton otherwise tends towards the rum-ti-tum, no help when it comes to James Fenton’s creaky translation.
ENO’s longstanding special relationship with American singers’ agents is beginning to look like a trade deal: all three leading roles are imported from across the pond, and unnecessarily so in an opera that is not one of the hardest to cast. Two of the three have their merits, though: in the title role Nicholas Pallesen makes up for what he lacks as a Verdian baritone by creating a moving character as he lumbers around the stage, and Sydney Mancasola brings a shyly glinting soprano to Gilda. Joshua Guerrero’s Duke (or Dook) bleats unconvincingly. At least Madeleine Shaw sings warmly as Maddalena, and Barnaby Rea makes a brave, er, stab at the assassin Sparafucile.
Once hailed as a renaissance man, Jonathan Miller can add prophetical vision to his list of talents: this Rigoletto is a very British muddle that rejects Italian spirit in favour of American swagger, showing that back in 1982 already he was creating the perfect production for our age.
Until February 28. Details: eno.org