On Tuesday, my neighbor and I went to our second opera of that season: Verdi’s Rigoletto. In contrast to Fidelio, it was a very traditional production, and it was astonishing.
I saw Rigoletto multiple times back in Russia, but like with many operas that I thought I knew, it turned out that we had a severely reduced version of it. My first eye-opener was Carmen, and Boris told me that he had a similar revelation with Faust, and now Rigoletto.
Beautiful. More tragic than I ever thought.







