Rigoletto and the Verdi baritone

After La Boheme, Puccini wrote Tosca and Madam Butterfly, a trio of masterpieces that have remained in the repertoire ever since. Fifty years earlier, Verdi had accomplished a similar trick only more quickly with Rigoletto (premiered in 1851), Il Trovatore (1853) and La Traviata (also 1853). All three are tuneful, compelling works but each is also very different from the others.

Titta Ruffo as Rigoletto

Rigoletto is based on Victor Hugo's play Le Roi s'amuse, which tells the story of Triboulet, the deformed jester who plots the murder of his employer King Francois I. "The subject is grand, immense and there's a character in it who is one of the greatest creations that the theatre of all countries and all times can boast," Verdi wrote in a letter. "The subject is Le Roi s'amuse and the character I'm speaking about is Triboulet." He went on to say, "Le Roi s'amuse is the greatest subject and perhaps the greatest drama of modern times. Triboulet is a creation worthy of Shakespeare!!" Inevitably, the death of a king was not tolerated by the censors and Verdi's adaptation made several changes. Of those that immediately concern us, King Francois became the Duke of Mantua; Triboulet became Rigoletto; his daughter Blanche became Gilda; Monsieur de Saint-Vallier became Count Monterone. Forced to defend his play against the censor, Hugo wrote of his character:

"Triboulet is deformed, Triboulet is sick, Triboulet is a jester — a triple misery which makes him evil. Triboulet hates the King because he is a king, the nobles because they are nobles, and he hates ordinary men because they do not have humps on their backs. His only pastime is to set the nobles unceasingly against the King, crushing the weaker by the stronger. He depraves the King, corrupts and brutalizes him; he encourages him in tyranny, in ignorance and in vice. He lures him to the families of gentlemen, pointing out the wife to seduce, the sister to carry off, the daughter to dishonour. The King in the hands of Triboulet is but an all-powerful puppet. When Triboulet is urging the King to carry off the wife of M. de Cossé, M., de Saint-Vallier reaches the palace, and in a loud voice reproaches the King for the dishonour of his daughter, Diane de Poitiers. This father, from whom the King has taken his daughter, is jeered at and insulted by Triboulet. Then the father puts out his hand and curses Triboulet. It is from this scene that the whole play develops. The real subject of the drama is the curse of M. de Saint-Vallier....
On whom has this curse fallen? On Triboulet as the King's fool? No. On Triboulet as a man, a father who has a heart and has a daughter. Triboulet has a daughter, that is the point. He has nothing else but his daughter Blanche in the world. He hides her away in a deserted part of the city. The more he spreads the contagion and vice in the town, the more he seeks to isolate and immure his daughter. He brings up his child in innocence, in faith, in chastity. His greatest fear is that she may fall into evil, since being evil himself he knows the suffering it causes. The same king whom Triboulet is urging to rape, will ravish his daughter. He wishes to kill the King, and so avenge his child, but it is his daughter whom he slays.... So Triboulet has two pupils: the king who he instructs in vice, and his daughter who he rears in virtue. One will destroy the other. The curse of Diane's father will be fulfilled on the father of Blanche."

The tragedy of Rigoletto is not simply that his daughter dies, nor even that his daughter dies as a result of his plotting, but that her death is a direct result of the world that he himself has created, of behaviour that he has fostered and encouraged. Rigoletto has created a devil in the Duke and an angel in his daughter, Gilda: the devil crushes the angel and lets her die. Rigoletto puts the pieces into play and is forced to watch it happen.

Verdi considered calling the opera La Maledizione, The Curse. The theme of the curse, or better to say, Rigoletto's recollection of it, forms the main theme of the prelude, a dark, subdued piece that seems to grow more and more on trembling strings until it bursts out like a scream. The violins have a falling two note phrase that suggest to me both mocking laughter and stabbing pain before the curse is recalled again. 



Verdi used a number of effects in the score. The scoring is largely dark and repressive. Although a number opera, Verdi felt that it was more a series of duets than of arias and choruses. The second scene of the first act begins with a dialogue for Rigoletto and the assassin, Sparafucile, followed by Rigoletto's "aria", Pari siamo, We are alike. Through much of these two numbers though, there is less singing and more parlando, speaking. The voices are more conversational with the orchestra picking up little themes and the singers chatting over the top.  The last act contains a storm scene, with lightning flashing on the piccolo and the chorus adding a wordless, lamenting wind: a sinister effect. (As a teenager, I always listened to this act with the lights off. Well, this act is set at midnight, after all.)

The last act also contains one of the most familiar arias in all opera, the Duke's La donna e mobile, Women are fickle and unfaithful. Here, Juan Diego Florez entertains the crowds in Amsterdam. Yes, it's piano only; yes, the audience sings along, but it's so full of joy that I think it's quite magical and the audience is both spellbound and enthusiastic.

The story goes that Verdi refrained from giving the tenor the music to La donna e mobile until the last minute, fearing that the Venetian gondoliers would overhear him practising and begin singing it on the canals. Its catchiness and memorability has a dramatic importance though as it reappears at a crucial moment in the action: not only to tell Rigoletto that the wrong body is in the sack, but to undermine Rigoletto's own happiness. This is Rigoletto's supreme moment of triumph, of "just" vengeance, and it is destroyed by his "unjust" master. The Duke sings mockingly of the fickleness of women: it is the fidelity of one woman that has kept him alive. 

Rigoletto himself is the archetypal "Verdi baritone". The term is used to describe those singers capable of singing both lyrically and dramatically, often in the highest part of their voice. Many of Verdi's baritone roles have a high tessitura: not only are there high notes, but often whole phrases or scenes are written with high notes. In other words, the vocal line is high. Naturally, singing at the extreme ends of the vocal range is tiring, and the sound can be weak. The true Verdi baritone needs strength to sustain these lines and the power to colour them. Verdi baritones often have a dark, rich colour to their voice: Rigoletto needs to sing lyrically and softly to his daughter, and savagely and  bitingly to the courtiers. Often words fail him: there are many cases in the libretto where he sings Ah!, and the greatest singers will use that word to change the colour and mood of their voice as the howling rage of Rigoletto turns on that word into something softer (or vice versa). Let's look at Rigoletto's great outburst in act two, where he attacks the courtiers for kidnapping his daughter before pleading with them, and with Marullo in particular, for her return:

Cortigiani, vil razza dannata,                  Courtiers, vile cursèd race,
Per qual prezzo vendeste il mio bene ?    at what price did you sell my love?
A voi nulla per l' oro sconviene,               For gold you do everything,
Ma mia figlia è impagabil tesor.                but my daughter is a priceless treasure.
La rendete...o se pur disarmata               Give her back to me...or, even if unarmed
questa man per voi fora cruenta;             this hand will be merciless with you;
nulla in terra più l' uomo paventa,           man fears nothing
se dei figli difende l' onor.                       when he has to defend his child's honour.
Quella porta, assassini, m' aprite.             Open that door, you murderers, open up.
Ah! voi tutti a me contro venite!             Ah! you are all against me!
Ah! Ebbene, piango, Marullo, signore,      Ah! See, I weep, Marullo, my lord,
tu ch' hai l' alma gentil come il core,        you have a kind soul and heart,
dimmi or tu dove l' hanno nascosta ?        speak up,tell me, where have they hidden her?
È là, non è vero? Tu taci! Ahimè              She's there, isn't she? You are silent!Alas!
Miei signori,perdono, pietate...              My lords...forgive, have mercy...
Al vegliardo la figlia ridate...                  Give back the daughter to this old man...
Ridonarla a voi nulla or costa,                 It doesn't cost you a thing to return her,
tutto il mondo è tal figlia per me.          while such a daughter is all the world to me.
Pieta, signori.                                        Have mercy, my lords.

Note how we have Ah! you are all against me and Ah! See I weep. These are new "paragraphs" to the aria; the mood changes and ideally there should be a new colour in the voice. Rage turns to frustration and realisation; frustration turns to pleading. And it's one word, Ah! that does it.

Verdi baritones seem to come along in waves. The 50s and 60s were blessed with the Americans Leonard Warren, Robert Merrill and Cornell Macneil, following a line begun by Lawrence Tibbett in the 30s and 40s; the Italians Tito Gobbi, Giuseppe Taddei and Ettore Bastianini. The next generation brought the American Sherrill Milnes and the Italians Renato Bruson, Piero Cappuccilli, Leo Nucci and, less well known, Giorgio Zancanaro. Personally, with the exception of Robert Merrill and Lawrence Tibbett, I find the American voices to sound a little hollow, less rich than the Italians. Bruson and Cappuccilli both had a nobility that was perhaps inappropriate for Rigoletto although Cappuccilli's legendary breath control does have its place. I love the sheer sound of both Nucci and Zancanaro (and Nucci, now into his 70s is a bit of a legend, with Rigoletto his most celebrated portrayal) even if the details of word painting and expressiveness elude them and their voices. Both Taddei and Gobbi had a bite and savagery in their voice that worked well in this role, and the colours in Gobbi's voice make his portrayal especially detailed and rewarding. 

Here is Titta Ruffo, whose picture is at the top of this post, recorded in 1907 and 1908, singing the aria followed by a playlist of other notable Verdi baritones. Do you have a favourite? This recording starts with Rigoletto's entrance, when, heartbroken he tra-la-las into the court, before realising that the courtiers know where Gilda is and turning on them (a section is also missing due to two recordings being "spliced" together). 

Playlist: Youtube Cortigiani Playlist

Rigoletto is a physical acting challenge for the baritone too. The hump on his back suggests other physical deformities (limited use of hands, bending the spine and therefore the neck and breath support muscles). The David McVicar production currently at the Royal Opera House has Rigoletto using crutches (perhaps in a nod to Antony Sher's famous spider-like Richard III), but this seems to be limiting. Indeed, it could be that Rigoletto's deformity, controversially suggesting that his ugly body is a reflection of his ugly soul, actually results in increased physicality and strength: I'm particularly thinking of Laughton and Chaney in their film portrayals of Quasimodo.

Now when was the last time you saw a baritone doing that?

You can listen to Gobbi's recording with Maria Callas's Gilda here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KLU28cqFKQw Macneil, with Domingo's Duke, can be seen and heard here with English subtitles: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WFP8A3HycRk Bruson, with Alagna: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ntnokC6wvcs There are several complete versions with Nucci. Here's one: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yBYRhWtF2Vw and another, audio only, with Jonas Kaufmann's Duke: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7n2uEXpHYMo

Antony Sher as Richard III