The magnificent revival of Emilio Sagi’s 2013 production of Rigoletto, seen at the New National Theatre, Tokyo, on 23 February, proved an arresting experience. While the staging remained consistent with its 2023 Tokyo premiere, the afternoon offered a profound re-evaluation of Verdi’s score, shifting the focus from grand spectacle toward a claustrophobic study of systemic power and marginalised grief.
This thematic bleakness was heightened by Daniele Callegari’s fidelity to the original manuscript. From the outset, the Tokyo Symphony Orchestra’s restrained volume and rhythmic exactitude signalled a shift toward ‘philological’ clarity. By restoring cut cadenzas and eschewing interpolated high notes—such as the unwritten E in ‘Caro nome’—Callegari allowed internal darkness to surface through nuanced shading rather than raw bravado. This musical austerity was mirrored by a visual landscape plunged into shadow by Eduardo Bravo. Within this gloom, Miguel Crespí’s aesthetic provided biting commentary: while the courtiers were draped in the cold, metallic opulence of silver, gold, and gems, only Rigoletto was clad in defiant red—a solitary splash of blood-tone marking him as both the court’s plaything and its victim.
Within this disciplined framework, the three leads achieved a rare sonic alchemy. Bulgarian baritone Vladimir Stoyanov, Japanese soprano Eri Nakamura, and American tenor Lawrence Brownlee displayed such balanced artistry that their timbres intertwined with the intricate textures of a triple concerto, creating a unified dramatic force that elevated the revival to new heights.
In the title role, Stoyanov displayed a command of legato and a dynamic spectrum nothing short of sublime, capturing every facet of the jester’s shadows and possessive paternal love. In Act II, masking fury behind his fool’s persona, his transition into the desperate ‘Signori, perdono, pietate’ felt like a Shakespearean soliloquy. Accompanied by a subtly supportive solo cello, his weeping was so intimate that audible sobbing filled the auditorium. Even at full volume, his instrument remained richly coloured, allowing the audience to empathise with the protagonist’s plight while savouring the grace of his delivery.
Nakamura’s Gilda provided the second, vital pillar of this triumph. Navigating the role’s evolution through three distinct identities—the crystalline girl, the shadowed victim, and the autonomous woman—she was transcendent. Her singing did not merely pierce the texture; it floated above the ensemble with luminous, liquid elasticity. Her unique timbre, blending virginal innocence with the gravitas of a mature woman, perfectly articulated Gilda’s journey—a path rendered here as a definitive act of will.
Brownlee, making his Verdi debut as the Duke, was equally exceptional. Having performed an agile Count Almaviva in June 2025, the tenor dispelled any doubts regarding this heavier repertoire with remarkable flexibility. His Duke was a model of stylish phrasing; while his Act II aria savoured the bel canto elegance inherent in the writing, the most breathtaking moment arrived in the final scene. Eschewing the raw power favoured by more boisterous tenors, Brownlee’s offstage reprise of ‘La donna è mobile’ offered a brilliant high B. Rendered with an exquisite decrescendo, the note gradually receded—a ghostly technical feat that allowed the Duke’s presence to linger before vanishing into the night.
Elsewhere, Kenji Saiki’s Sparafucile was properly ominous, his duet with Rigoletto rendered especially eerie by the suave, serpentine melody of the muted low strings. As Maddalena, Kasumi Shimizu was convincingly amoral, yet her lower register lacked the sonorous depth required for the fatal Act III quartet. The New National Theatre Chorus provided energetic support, but one staging choice remained a visual distraction: in the abduction scene, Sagi has the ensemble stand still while Gilda’s room glides mechanically across the stage. It provoked a slight chuckle in 2023 and remains an oddity—perhaps a deliberate moment of levity amidst an otherwise relentless drama.
Ultimately, this revival stands as a definitive triumph of vocal virtuosity, anchored by the peerless technical mastery of its three principals. Yet the true revelation lay in Maestro Callegari’s exceptional craftsmanship. By drawing out a soundscape so distinct from standard performance traditions, he invited the audience to experience Rigoletto anew.
Natsuko Hirakura
Rigoletto
Composed by Giuseppe Verdi
Libretto by Francesco Maria Piave
Cast and Production Staff:
Rigoletto – Vladimir Stoyanov; Gilda – Nakamura Eri; Il duca di Mantova – Lawrence Brownlee; Sparafucile – Saiki Kenji; Maddalena – Shimizu Kasumi; Il conte di Monterone – Tomokiyo Takashi; Giovanna – Taniguchi Mutsumi; Marullo – Narita Hiroyuki; Borsa – Itoga Shuhei; Il conte di Ceprano – Yoshikawa Kenichi; La Contessa di Ceprano – Sogo Shoko; Paggio – Aminaga Yuri; Un usciere – Sannohe Hirohisa
Production – Emilio Sagi; Set Design – Ricardo Sánchez Cuerda; Costume Design – Miguel Crespí; Lighting Design – Eduardo Bravo; Choreographer – Nuria Castejón; Tokyo Symphony Orchestra and New National Theatre Chorus, Conductor – Daniele Callegari
New National Theatre Tokyo, 23 February 2026
All photos © Rikimaru Hotta