For its current revival of Rigoletto, English National Opera has reverted to Jonathan Miller’s iconic 1982 staging, rather than using the Christopher Alden production that was brought in from Chicago to replace it in 2014, but deemed ineffective and abstruse by many. The move makes sense at a time when the company is being much criticised for indifferent dramatic standards, and though Miller’s relocation of Verdi’s tragedy from 16th-century Mantua to 1950s mafioso New York no longer startles as it did 35 years ago, it remains a tremendously vital piece of theatre that remorselessly and subtly lays bare both the opera’s moral complexity and disturbing emotional violence.
We’ve heard it better done, though. Conductor Richard Armstrong nicely judges mood and pace, yet his fondness for turning up the orchestral volume too much too often disadvantages the singers, and he opts for a plain edition of the score, permitting none of his protagonists any of the traditionally interpolated high notes. Nicholas Pallesen credibly conveys the guilt, anxiety and obsession that corrode Rigoletto’s soul, but was battling intonation problems on opening night. Joshua Guerrero’s Duke sounds good, though his lack of sociopathic charm leaves us wondering, on occasion, why Sydney Mancasola’s Gilda becomes so irrevocably hooked. Mancasola, with her flawless coloratura and dreamy trills, gives one of the evening’s great performances. The other comes from Barnaby Rea’s Sparafucile: lean, mean, handsomely sung and lethally creepy.
•At the Coliseum, London, until 28 February. Box office: 020-7845-9300.
