boy meets girl
Two superstars of the 21st century, Diana Damrau and Juan Diego Flórez, bring exciting new life to a classic of the 19th century, Verdi’s Rigoletto. This new production of the warhorse was heard Saturday night in Dresden. Regie is by Nikolaus Lehnhoff and musical direction is by Fabio Luisi.
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I am pretty certain that the cadenza is Verdi’s, not Ricci’s. It is also on the RCA Solti Merrill Moffo Kraus recording.
Well, after Didnot’s putdown @26(and correctly so, a musicologist citing a Schirmer edition is akin to a serious journalist quoting the National Enquirer), I felt I had better consult a more scholarly edition. The new critical edition of Verdi by U of Chicago Press/Ricordi includes the cadenza and has considerable discussion of it in the Commentary volume accompanying the score. Seems it differs from the original sketch but _is_ Verdi’s final intention. The first sketch was in B and when he made the second version he switched to B flat and revised the cadenza. While at the library I checked out the Moffo/Kraus, Sutherland/Pavarotti and the Rost/Alagna–just got home so I haven’t heard them yet. My first Rigoletto was Callas on LP and then Scotto later. I decided that I didn’t really need to listen to any others since I can barely make it through the last act without serious emotional trauma. I don’t ever want to see it in the house since I have stumbled out of too many Traviatas red eyed and supressing sobs. The story is just hideous. The music is quite another matter.
I was there last night in Dresden and JDF passed a very severe test.
Firstly, because of the difficult acoustics of the Sempoper, secondly because of the prejudice surrounding the restoration of this role to a tenore di grazia, after a century of spinto usurption, and thirdly because he had to share the stage with that God of Baritones, the glorious Lucic and the unduly loved Damrau, one of those dime-a-dozen sopranos of today with overblown small lyric voices with gurgling monochrome middle registers and screamed accuti, whom borish queens bravo by habit.
The Sempoper is at least the size of Covent Garden as a space to sing into. The night before, the entire cast of Meistersinger, including Alan Titus, were cruelly challenged by the deafening pit.
So how did little JDF fare?
With flying colours, is the answer.
I can assure you there was no amplification.
If someone saw a body mike on Lucic in the broadcast, that was obviously the reason – recording.
It had nothing to do with amplification.
Considering that the mighty Lucic was drowned out at the climactic middle of Cortigiani and at the end of Si Vendetta, (as was Damrau) and almost inaudible in the closing bars of the opera, it says a lot that I heard every note of the Beautiful Boy with crystal clarity except on two occasions – firstly when Damrau screamed the last addio of the Act One duet louder than him, and secondly in the stretta at the end of his cabaletta.
The Beautiful Boy, unlike Damrau, sings every note dead in tune, all the time. We all know it’s not a big sound, but it carries because of its clean definition, its vitality and its decisiveness.
OK, there may not be much dynamic variation, and “nasal” is a word which could come to mind, but the sheer sound is always sufused with honey and plaintivenes and love, and frankly, sex!
Yes, he has lost weight. Unfortunately he wore a singlet when the shirt came off, but there is a sweet little body there.
In the first scene he stood down stage with extended black hair falling free, in a silver shirt tucked into snugly fitting breeches, back to the audience, with one leg raised onto the promter’s box, showing off the unattainable.
The Duke is a naughty boy, and nothing is as sexy as a nice, naughty boy. JDF is a very nice boy. I only wish he was next door.
Goats eat honey? He isn’t a pretty sound sorry.