Rigoletto, Royal Opera House

★★★★☆

First performed in 1851, Verdi’s 'Rigoletto' remains one of opera’s most brutal tragedies. Built on themes of power, corruption and misplaced revenge, it tells a tightly wound story where a father’s attempt to protect his daughter only leads to her destruction. Oliver Mears’ production at the Royal Opera House leans fully into that darkness, offering a visually rich and sharply directed interpretation that feels both familiar and freshly unsettling.

From the start, the production establishes a strong visual world. The Duke’s court is framed by large, imposing paintings and deep, shadowy colours, creating a sense that everything is staged, posed and controlled. It is a clever idea that suggests a world obsessed with image and power. Against this, Gilda’s bedroom appears pale and fragile, almost like something that does not belong in the same reality. This contrast works well and helps the story land clearly.

There are moments of real theatrical impact. The opening party scene, frozen like a living painting before bursting into movement, is striking. Later, the storm in the final act is one of the production’s strongest moments, with rain, lightning and darkness combining to create a genuinely tense and dramatic climax. These are the ‘magic moments’ where everything comes together and the production feels fully alive.

Musically, the evening is strong, though not flawless. Sir Mark Elder leads the orchestra with care and detail, drawing out warmth from the strings and some excellent brass playing. At times, especially early on, the pacing feels slightly heavy, but overall the score is handled with authority and sensitivity.

George Petean’s Rigoletto is the emotional centre of the production. He brings a convincing mix of bitterness and vulnerability, moving naturally between sarcasm and genuine grief. His voice may not be the largest, but it is expressive and well controlled. Aida Garifullina’s Gilda is a standout. Her ‘Caro nome’ is beautifully sung, and she gives the character more depth than usual, showing both innocence and growing awareness. Her final scenes are particularly affecting.

Iván Ayón Rivas as the Duke is less consistent. While there are flashes of vocal power, some of the key arias lack ease and charisma, which weakens the character’s presence. Supporting roles are solid, with William Thomas bringing a dark edge to Sparafucile.

What impresses most is the production’s clarity and consistency. It tells the story well, with strong visual ideas and committed performances. However, it does not quite reach the level of something truly unforgettable.

Image credit: Marc Brenner