Power isn’t just about having more than everyone else.
Sometimes it’s about having the freedom to step into other people’s worlds without ever having to live with what you leave behind.
That’s the tragedy at the heart of Rigoletto.
Opera Australia’s production makes this idea tangible through a stunning revolving set. Each turn reveals another world existing alongside the last: the Duke’s lavish palace, Rigoletto’s modest home, Sparafucile’s shadowed inn. They all occupy the same stage, yet feel like entirely different realities. Connected, but separate.
Every major tragedy begins when the Duke crosses into someone else’s world.
He enters Rigoletto’s home and destroys its safety. He arrives at the inn and sets the opera’s devastating conclusion in motion. His privilege gives him complete freedom to move between worlds, changing each one he enters. Yet when he leaves, he returns to his own untouched.
Verdi’s score reinforces the point with breathtaking irony. La donna è mobile isn’t simply opera’s most recognisable tune. It’s the sound of a man so insulated from the consequences of his own actions that, while another family is destroyed, he can only think about where he’ll go next.
That’s what makes Rigoletto feel astonishingly modern.
The greatest privilege isn’t always wealth or status.
Sometimes it’s never having to carry the weight of the lives you’ve changed.