I still can’t fully explain — except maybe by invoking pure passion — how it’s possible to be this excited every time I go to see Rigoletto. Last night, I felt like I was about to make love for the very first time: buzzing with anticipation, knowing I was heading toward something I already loved, something sure to surprise me, something with endless layers to discover. On the way to the theater, I felt like a Taylor Swift fan 24 hours before her Madison Square Garden concert — maybe that’s what people mean when they talk about the magic of opera, or simply the enduring genius of Giuseppe Verdi, who continues to move me more and more each year.

Listening to Rigoletto is a bit like watching an old VHS tape of a film you know by heart — except each time, it reveals something new. And this week? It was double Rigoletto — Wednesday in Bern, and Saturday in Zurich for another round!

I love Bühnen Bern — for its warmth, for the care they take in their programming, for the cast selections that always feel like hidden gems. I love this house because of its kindness, its passion, and its almost family-like atmosphere. Whenever I come here, I feel like I’m in a small Italian opera house on a sleepy Sunday afternoon in places like Piacenza or Pavia. It’s intimate. It’s emotional. It’s real.

Last night was no exception. In fact, it was a triumph — not from a trio, but from four excellent singers. First and foremost: Patricia Westley. Believe me when I say I hope to see her on major European stages very soon. Her Gilda was extraordinary, with a magical voice that delivered what was perhaps one of the most beautiful “Caro nome” renditions I’ve ever heard live. Soft, soaring high notes, stunning breath control, and an emotional connection to her father that felt more sincere than her one with the Duke. Patricia Westley is the kind of artist who makes me want to hop on planes just to hear her again — I wouldn’t be surprised to see her shine in more tragic roles soon, like Lucia di Lammermoor.

Then there was Aluda Todua. I can’t put it any better than the message I sent to a friend at intermission: “Dude, I just heard an incredible Rigoletto!” His interpretation was a gift, particularly in the duets with Gilda. A bit more madness and rawness — especially in “Cortigiani” and the Act I finale when he realizes Gilda has been kidnapped — will surely come with time. I can’t listen to that part now without thinking of Leo Warren’s legendary cries of “Gildaaa!” and that final, heart-stopping “La maledizione!”

Ian Matthew Castro was the Duke — and what a loathsome, pretentious, manipulative Duke he was! He fully embodied the role, with the production making him a cocaine addict to underline his depravity. I first heard him a year ago in Roméo et Juliette, and it’s wild how much he’s grown — vocally and physically — since then. A truly solid performance, though perhaps a little too focused on watching the conductor (to be fair, I was seated right behind the maestro, so I noticed every glance!).

And finally: William Meinert. Maybe it’s because he’s so tall, or because of his flaming orange hair, but the stage lighting seemed to follow him wherever he went! Sparafucile isn’t a huge role, but it’s crucial — he’s the catalyst for the opera’s major turning point. And when he growled his name with that subterranean bass — “Spaaaarafuciiiiiiillleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee” — the whole theater vibrated. The note held, held, and held, until it disappeared into the wings. So cool.

Once again, a beautiful night at Bühnen Bern. I’m really looking forward to next season’s announcement. My secret wish? A revival of their 2020 Otello, which tragically only saw one performance due to COVID.

More than ever… VIVA VERDI!