He might be a clown, but of the kind that gives little children nightmares. - Opera Wire

A Vigorous Rigoletto

The audience’s laughter may have been a testament to Daniel Scofield’s electrifying Rigoletto. His is not a sputtering, old, deformed jester. He might be a clown, but of the kind that gives little children nightmares. He is disturbing in part because of the subtle portrayal of Rigoletto’s deformity. There is only a gesture of a hump and a slightly more prominent limp. Aside from this, Rigoletto often seemed robust and even young. Scofield makes it seem as though being on the edge of normalcy makes him far more conscious of himself as an outsider and that much more intent on preserving his honor.

Rigoletto does not grovel. Even when he asks the courtier, Marullo, to pity him, he does not bend or bow but stands face to face with his superior. Scofield does not alternate his singing between father and clown, between victim and villain. His Rigoletto consistently explores some version of anger, but never at the expense of presumed dignity. Scofield allowed the occasional grunt, but usually at the end of a phrase so that it did not interfere with vocal clarity. His voice is richly shaded. In its darker moments, it reminded me of Renato Bruson. He stretched some phrases slowly and thickly, like pulling apart tar.

While Verdi sympathized with Rigoletto, this performance suggests a more sinister character. The successful, believable, disturbing villainy of Scofield’s interpretation made Mitchell’s Duke that much more likable. - Opera Wire