Here is 
Tutto Verdi 16 (all Verdi but missing 
        two titles). 
Rigoletto is the second most popular of Verdi’s 
        operas, coming after 
La Traviata, his next but one operatic staging. 
        Both operas come in the all-time top ten world-wide, each being premiered 
        at La Fenice, Venice, in March 1851 and 1853 respectively. 
          
        
Rigoletto is based on Victor Hugo’s play 
Le Roi s’amuse. 
        In a letter to Piave his librettist Verdi described it as “the greatest 
        drama of modern times”. He saw the character of Tribolet, to become 
        Rigoletto, as a character worthy of Shakespeare, and there was no greater 
        compliment that Verdi could pen. It did not reach the stage without hassle. 
        The censor objected to a king being involved, to the general immorality 
        of the story, and such minutiae as Rigoletto being a hunchback and the 
        body of Gilda being on stage in a sack. Verdi compromised whilst maintaining 
        the principles of the play. The compromise involved a change from a Royal 
        Court to that of an independent Duke. Most importantly the changes maintained 
        the historical period most suitable for the impact of Monterone’s 
        curse on Rigoletto’s mind and being. It is with the words 
Ah! 
        La maladezione! with which Rigoletto concludes act 1 as he realises 
        his daughter Gilda has been abducted. This is also his final cry at the 
        conclusion of the opera as he realises she is dead. This phrase, and Rigoletto’s 
        reaction to it, has to be telling in any production. A curse in the present 
        day has little if any meaning. Its significance is best realised in the 
        contextual relationship of the words uttered by a jester at Court. Equally 
        important is that any the production should realistically convey the nature 
        of Rigoletto’s day job; this alongside his role of protective loving 
        father to a daughter who knows nothing of the rather nasty nature of his 
        work, its environment, nor of her family. 
          
        
Rigoletto comes tenth in the all-time list of performed operas 
        and second in respect of the Verdi canon after 
La Traviata. Those 
        two operas, along with 
Il Trovatore, premiered between the two, 
        are considered the gems of Verdi’s middle period and are immensely 
        popular. With his preceding two works, 
Luisa Miller and 
Stiffelio, 
        Verdi had honed his capacity to represent characters and their situations, 
        adding to the dramatic impact of the whole as well as to the challenges 
        to interpreters of the roles. The challenges are even greater in the trio 
        of middle period operas. Consequently, I had expected the performances 
        in this Tutto Verdi series, of largely provincial performances from Parma, 
        to be beaten to pulp by recorded rivals from the great opera houses. I 
        was pleasantly surprised to be able to award the imprimatur of 
Recording 
        of the Month to 
Stiffelio on the basis of casting and production 
        despite competition from La Scala and Covent Garden productions. I now 
        find myself in a similar situation with this performance and staging of 
        
Rigoletto. Yes, the performance from Dresden in 2008 featuring 
        Juan Diego Florez and Diane Damrau is better sung, but the production 
        and costumes are plain silly (see 
review). 
        That from Zurich in 2006, and like the present issue also featuring Leo 
        Nucci in the title role, mixes time periods in an unconvincing manner 
        and destroys the mood created in the opening scene in period costume (see 
        
review). 
        
          
        This 2008 Parma production, in sets and costumes by Pierluigi Samaritani, 
        seems intent on doing visual justice to Verdi’s masterful creation. 
        The lighting enables movement between scenes to be presented with ease 
        and fluency by the video director, and stage promise becomes reality under 
        the hands of director Stefano Vizioli. The opening scene is in colourful 
        period costume and fully represents the licentious nature of the Mantuan 
        Court. Even the full frontal nude exposure of Monterone’s daughter 
        is appropriate rather than salacious (CH.6). The smooth movement between 
        scenes, all in recognisably appropriate period and location settings, 
        adds to the mood that is within Verdi’s creation. Everything is 
        brought to recognisable fruition as to period and drama. 
          
        Whilst the visuals are important and appreciated, the singing and the 
        musical performance must match. I have not always been an admirer of Leo 
        Nucci. I have on occasion found his tone rather thin and wiry, in Verdi 
        in particular. In this performance he does not show his sixty-five years. 
        As an actor he has always had the capacity to represent a character and 
        creep under the skin. No character is more complex than Rigoletto: caustic 
        jester, and loving but over-protective father of a young daughter who 
        he seeks to keep unaware of his day job and particularly from the eyes 
        of his employer. In this performance Nucci manages to convey, by his acting, 
        physical and vocal, all the necessary facets. In this he creates the best 
        account of the role since I saw the Greek Kostas Paskalis in 1968 with 
        the young Pavarotti as the Duke. Only for a few moments at the end of 
        a magnificent 
Cortigiani vil razza danata (CH.22) does Nucci momentarily 
        show signs of vocal pressure. However, after a rendition such as he gives 
        I forgive all, and even the very slight unsteadiness at the end might 
        be considered appropriate for a bereft and ageing father. Somehow or other 
        he found the energy and vocal prowess to reprise, with his Gilda, the 
        concluding verses of 
Tutte le feste (CH.24). This brought the enthusiastic 
        audience to its feet. 
          
        The opera is not a one-singer piece. In this instance, Rigoletto’s 
        daughter Gilda is sung with beautiful tone and a lovely trill in 
Caro 
        nome (CH.14). All this is allied to consummate acting and a most appropriate 
        and appealing stage presence. If the young Francesco Demuro as the Duke 
        is not quite of that standard, he does not fall far short. He is no corpulent 
        tenor; rather he has the 
figure du part to die for, likewise his 
        lithe movement and curly locks. His singing is ardent and well characterised. 
        Just occasionally I feel he squeezes the tone at the top of his voice 
        a little. That said, he sings the opening act two double aria with graceful 
        phrasing (CHs.17-18) and does likewise with that most famous of all tenor 
        aria 
La donna e mobile (CH.27). 
          
        All the minor parts are sung well with the Parma chorus in vibrant voice. 
        The conductor, if not in the very top class in bringing out every last 
        nuance of the drama, is more than adequate. 
          
        
Robert J Farr 
          
        In my opinion this is by far the best-staged and performed 
Rigoletto 
        in the modern digital format and should be a part of any opera collection.