Let's try this one more time. In October 2000, Lyric Opera of Chicago unveiled a new production of Verdi's "Rigoletto" that provoked a level of controversy unusual for the company. Scores of patrons wrote letters to General Director William Mason expressing their ire at British director David Alden's concept of the work.

Set in the Victorian era, Alden's "Rigoletto" explored Verdi's dark tale of sexual license, abduction, rape and murder as a study of corrupt, anti-female machismo run amok. Zombie-like women roamed the Duke of Mantua's handsome parlor, sexual playthings for the debauched courtiers. In key scenes, including the kidnapping and death of Gilda, Rigoletto's virginal daughter, Alden jettisoned traditional staging, leaving some viewers confused and outraged. . . . . .

On Saturday [21 Jan 06], Lyric unveils the new "Rigoletto," set in an equally sumptuous and corrupt Italian Renaissance court. Jesus Lopez Cobos conducts, and Spanish baritone Carlos Alvarez, Russian soprano Dina Kuznetsova and American tenor Frank Lopardo take the leading roles. Making his Lyric debut, Italian director Stefano Vizioli is offering a vision that emphasizes the circularity at the heart of the story originally told in Victor Hugo's 1832 play, "The King Amuses Himself."

Lyric gets it right with sumptuous new production of 'Rigoletto'

Stefano Vizioli's handsome and traditional production, which opened Saturday at the Civic Opera House, might almost be mistaken for an Italian Renaissance fashion show, save for the fact that it has a compelling tragedy to relate and several superb voices to lift Verdi's glorious vocal lines to the heights.

The Duke of Mantua's court may be corrupt and decadent, but it sure knows how to dress. Pointy-wigged ladies promenade through the party scene in ornate silken gowns over tight, stiff corsets. The courtesans, nearly spilling out of their bejeweled bodices, could have stepped out of a period painting. (And, no, they don't appear topless, contrary to advance reports.) The caped courtiers strut around in golden jerkins and puffy pants. Credit Joan Greenwood, the veteran opera and theater designer, for creating a symphony of sumptuous colors, fabrics and textures. . . . .

To everyone onstage, Rigoletto is a horrible man, paid to dispense mockery at the behest of his employer, the libertine Duke of Mantua, and determined to keep his daughter quarantined from the world he despises. Yet Verdi's music softens the hunchback's hard emotional edges, giving him a paternal tenderness that Carlos Alvarez, for all the stylishness of his singing, didn't fully convey.

To be sure, the Spanish baritone commands the firm and pliant Verdi instrument needed to make the jester's rant against the courtiers, "Cortigiani," a thrilling lava-flow of spite. But this worn, stubby, damaged cynic is not directed to elicit our pity, which means that we are less moved than we should be by the final scene in which Rigoletto cradles his dying child in his arms. It was hard to glean much remorse from Alvarez at that moment.

On the other hand, Dina Kuznetsova, the star Lyric Center alumna who sings Gilda, is fully believable as a flesh-and-blood adolescent in the flush of first love, steadfast even when realizing the man she loves has repeatedly betrayed her. Too bad her singing is uneven, with a thin, colorless upper range and unreliable pitch. At least "Caro nome" is spirited and appealing, and the Russian soprano fares better than most Gildas when called upon to deliver her final farewell half-wrapped in a burlap sack.

Nothing Frank Lopardo has given us at Lyric over the years can compare with the vocal and dramatic splendor of his duke. His fresh and meaty tenor satisfies the lyric requirements, and he brings a wealth of dynamic and expressive nuance to his big numbers (including a swaggering "La donna e mobile" and the rarely heard Act 2 aria, minus the repeat of the cabaletta). He makes the sexual predator charming even when he's at his most despicable. But why have one of the palace floozies paw him while he's lamenting the loss of Gilda?

Andrea Silvestrelli's inky-voiced bass now sounds hollow in the middle, but he nails the hired assassin's hulking menace. As his sister and accomplice, a barefooted Beth Clayton brings bedroom huskiness and an allure both physical and dramatic to Maddalena. Quinn Kelsey's Monterone sends a chill down your back when he pronounces his fateful curse.

we are less moved than we should be by the final scene in which Rigoletto cradles his dying child in his arms [nos mueven menos que debemos estar por la escena final en la cual Rigoletto acuna a su niño que muere en sus brazos]

Lyric's 'Rigoletto' gets a warm welcome

...Seconds after the Civic Opera House's stately red curtains parted to reveal the larger-than-life frescos of naked nymphs and satyrs and the austere, Palladian-style domed ceiling of the Duke of Mantua's bedroom, the audience began to applaud. Applauding the scenery is generally not the style of Lyric's opera-savvy audience, but their response was prompted by more than the extravagant, jewel-hued views of 16th century Italy offered by stage director Stefano Vizioli, set designer Robert Innes Hopkins and costume designer Jane Greenwood.

...Nothing was sugarcoated in this beautifully sung production with Spanish baritone Carlos Alvarez as the embittered jester...
With seasoned Spanish conductor Jesus Lopez-Cobos in the pit and a strong cast, including Frank Lopardo as the Duke and Dina Kuznetsova as Gilda, Lyric's "Rigoletto" was a pleasure for both the eye and the ear...

A thin, stooped figure in the court jester's multi-horned cap, sumptuous velvet jerkin and short pantaloons, Alvarez gave us a harshly tragic Rigoletto. He is an ideal Verdi baritone, plunging into the opera's craggy melodic lines with a supple, black-hued voice that easily penetrated every corner of the large Civic Opera House. In the final act, standing aside as Gilda witnessed her beloved Duke's crude coupling with the whore Maddalena, Rigoletto was suddenly aged and frail, an utterly defeated father.

But something about the production, perhaps designer Christine Binder's often bright lighting, kept us from becoming overly sentimental about Rigoletto or any of the opera's more despicable characters. There was no golden glow to the young women falling out of their clothes in the Duke's bedroom. (Contrary to earlier publicity about the production, none of them seemed to go topless.) With few shadows to hide in or soften their raw edges, Rigoletto with his cruel jokes and the Duke with his boundless lust came to us spiritually naked.

Lopardo's Duke was masterfully drawn. His tenor is agile, and he seized Verdi's ringing top notes with the confidence of an Olympic champion. But a streak of ebony coursed through his voice, giving it weight and a worldly wise edge.

"La donna e mobile" was particularly exciting, tossed off with the arrogance of a young Venetian master of the universe. Heard in context, the aria is much more than a jaunty jibe at fickle women. The Duke, the epitome of lying unfaithfulness, criticizing women as faithless cheats? Please.

Dina Kuznetsova's Gilda was an attractive innocent, fatally harmed by Rigoletto's obsessive protectiveness, the Duke's treachery and her own naive romanticism. Her voice had bloom and freshness, but her top notes occasionally sounded thin.

As Sparafucile, assassin for hire, bass Andrea Silvestrelli was exceptionally hearty, his sepulchral voice full of brilliant edges, like a piece of glittering coal. With her sensual, pouty lips, flowing mane and rich mezzo-soprano, Beth Clayton was a voluptuous Maddalena.