Rigoletto not Rigolo...(or, Portrait of an Artist: Zeljko Lucic)

I’m not sure if Marcel Proust was alive he would write a book called “A la recherche du baryton Verdien”, alas, after seeing Rigoletto at the Met last Friday, I once again confirmed that the one more beautiful thing than my trademark long auburn hair and Biki wardrobe is Zeljko Lucic.

The existence of a true Verdi baritone has been discussed (and still) in many different platforms. Most agree that they do not exist anymore, and the tradition ended with such distinguished materials like Gobbi, Merrill, Warren, Milnes, Cappuccilli and Nucci, (the latter who is still active and fabulous.)

Lucic has the biggest advantage of being blessed with a burnished, dark and round, voluptuous and most importantly “manly” material. These are basics for any Verdi baritone part. But more than that, Lucic already understands that these basics should be used to channel each Verdian part differently, yet all sitting on a solid infrastructure (voice and technique) and superstructure (art and soul.) This is the main reason his portrayal of Macbeth few years ago, (although an underrated performance by the critics, to my opinion the best in the last few decades,) is way different than his Rigoletto. In Macbeth, his “Pieta, rispetto, amore…” becomes a self-reflection, a look at the mirror, a thought…as it should be, and not a show-off manifesto. Macbeth is first a human being and then the sum of his crimes and actions.

Rigoletto, often considered the pinnacle of all baritone repertoire is a true bitch demanding a continuous stamina, use of all three registers, and perhaps most importantly the “acting.” As In Macbeth, as a singing actor, Lucic’s portrayal was powerfully human and natural. As Rigoletto, even though the director seems to have left him to himself, the baritone came up in an original way, portraying the buffone as a “man”, a man who believes in his destiny, who, even at the very first notes of his entrance, knows what is going to happen, then confessing how his wife married him out of compassion…but he is never looking for pity, nor confirmation. At that point of view, he is not connected to the audience. He is singing to himself as if he has to convince himself that this is his faith and how things should be. During Act III where he finally lets go in “…piango” he actually gives up on life and everything he ever had. We never see him actually cry, or pretend to, but rather expressing a true emotion and the last of his hopes. His “vendetta” started as piano, as it should be, a promise of vengeance to himself. He sometimes prefers to use diminuendo instead of constant pianissimi. During the entire course of the opera, we do not see Lucic laugh or cry. Nothing is brought to an exaggeration level. At the end, his Rigoletto is a slap to our face, a real picture of the society’s underdog and his brutal loneliness is all that stays, and is all that matters/

Lucic’s use of his own material (voice, body, and acting) is spectacular. His almost inaudible voice back in Il Trittico, filled the Met with ease, never at once losing control, legato, always giving his best in the almost endless Verdian lines. His is not a huge sound à la McNeil, but the humanity and the natural manliness dans sa peau resulted in a mesmerizing, unforgettable performance that will be hardly paralleled.