Forty editions and sold out for many years is a good reason for joy and, of course, to crown the season with a Rigoletto is one of the best ways to do justice to the event. It also carries a certain risk. To achieve a good result, high-level voices are needed. Damiano Salerno as Rigoletto and Génesis Moreno as Gilda were in charge of doing so and solemnizing the anniversary. Undoubtedly, they shone far above the rest of a cast that was not bad at all. But the pivotal moments of the performance were generated when they were the great protagonists. Their duets were anthological. They began their recital with the emotional and delicate Figlia! Mio padre! They continued with the colossal Mio padre!…Tutte la feste al tempio. They elevated the tragedy with the final duet, V’ho ingannato, colpevole fui and Lassú in cielo. These three moments alone would have been enough to satisfy an audience that bid farewell to the protagonists standing, after Rigoletto's desperate lament, 'La maledizione'. This was the title Giuseppe Verdi wanted. A detail of no importance for an impeccable and implacable piece. Structurally perfect, which forces both protagonists into a detailed, meticulous, and, of course, very demanding existential metamorphosis. Both Rigoletto and Gilda, the hunchback and the daughter, evolve, both vocally and dramatically, as circumstances arise and change. Salerno and Moreno more than fulfilled their task. Génesis Moreno, two seasons ago, had already shown many of her virtues at the Teatre Principal, playing Gounod's Juliet. Therefore, her choice to star as Gilda could not have been more fitting. If the entire performance was memorable, a tremendous and colossal display of warmth, expressiveness, coloratura, breath... it left everyone more or less stunned with an unforgettable Caro nome. Nothing to say, but quite the opposite, about the interventions of Damiano Salerno, with a resounding and full voice, who with an emotional and powerful Cortigiani, vil razza dannata, rich in nuances and full of difficulties, did not make us miss any of the great singers who have interpreted the most convoluted and complex character in Verdi's production. His projection, the complicated alliance of virulence and subtlety, and impeccable diction and vocalization stand out.The diction was a small hindrance for Filip Filipovic as Duke of Mantua, considerable in volume, but uneven overall, leaving the canzonetta that has remained as the symbol of the piece, La donna è mobilie, as an anecdote. The complicated piece is, always and much more so, Ella mi fu rapita! Filip Filipovic was correct, although regarding his character, I think he was too angry in the conception of a seducer, as if he were Gualtier Maldé. On another level, but adequate, was the local performance, with Begoña Gómez as Maddalena, Irene Mas as the Duchess's page, and Cristòfol Romaguera as Count Ceprano. On the other hand, Toni Marsol was an efficient and expeditious Monterone, while for Niall Anderson's Sparafucile, one did not need to go so far. The orchestra, conducted by Oliver Díaz, and the male choir of the Teatre Principal performed well, while Elena Barbalich's staging, in the production that arrives from Pavia, Como, Brescia, Cremona, Bergamo, and Toulon, combined period costumes with very contemporary metallic structures, aesthetically effective, but which above all served to delineate with great effectiveness each space where the action takes place at each moment. A great opera evening.

There are moments in opera that, always and without exception, are absolutely memorable. They are those when the singer has just performed the most famous aria of the composition, the audience's applause has a special, very eloquent, even demanding tone. And, if they almost always lose intensity, in these cases the decibels increase exponentially. The protagonist first remains silent, respectful and grateful, without any movement, not even the slightest that could interrupt the party that the spectators from up there have started and have spread to the rest. He looks at the conductor. He, attentive, waits for the protagonist to close his eyes affirmatively, corroborating what more or less everyone already had clear. And so the apotheosis, the encore, begins again. For the Majorcans who were there, it had added value, the first one Xabier Anduaga did, with Una furtiva lagrima, was in the Principal Theater of Palma. On Sunday, at the third performance of his first Werther, the Liceu erupted and turned the evening into a memorable one, one of those that are not forgotten. Xabier Anduaga encored, for the first time in his debut of the tragic character par excellence, the very famous and legendary Pourquoi me réveiller. A circumstance that could have turned the rest of the performance into pure anecdote.

We could give many examples that confirm the truth of the title, but just the last three operas I've seen these past few days immediately dispel any doubt. First was the Gotterdämerung Wagner's opera, where it becomes clear that the tragic and central protagonist is Brünhilde. And she is none other than Senta, who heads the cast of The Flying Dutchmanwhich we were able to enjoy at the Principal Theatre of Ciudad. To round off the week, at the Gran Teatre del Liceu, the one who carries the banner is the one who gives the work its title, The Mona Lisa. A composition, the only known one by Amilcare Ponchielli, yet still an indisputable masterpiece that requires six top-level voices to reach its full potential, as was the case in the production between the Liceu and the Teatro San Carlo in Naples, with stage direction by Romain Gilbert. Based on a drama by Victor Hugo, Angelo, tyrant of Padoue, to which Arrigo Boito, author of the librettos for Verdi's last and among his most highly regarded operas, under the pseudonym Tobia Gorrio, moved to Venice. An aspect that Gilbert has configured with complete and absolute fidelity, adding a few touches of the conmedia dell'arte, with the inclusion of Harlequin, Pantalone and Columbine, in addition to some narrative liberties, such as, among others, the final appearance of The Blind Woman, by Violeta Urmana, who still retains many of her qualities and, above all, the skill to accurately depict the essential characteristics of the character.

Der fliegende Holländer, by Richard Wagner, at the Principal Theater. Impossible!, many of us thought. My faultDifficult, no doubt, but good work and sound judgment prevailed. This isn't a spoiler. It was a success, with a full house, and ohne irrtum —without error— as the composer would say, and surely if he didn't say it, he at least thought it. Everything worked perfectly. Nothing disappointed, and perhaps that remarkable balance achieved was the best and most essential of the many virtues the show possesses. The circle might have been smaller than usual, for obvious reasons, but it was undoubtedly a perfect one. A fact that was already clear from the very first agreements of theOpening, With the imposing brass announcing the stormy tragedy, the Balearic Islands Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Guillermo Garcia-Calvo, for whom Wagner holds far fewer secrets than for the vast majority of conductors, having so thoroughly captured the essence of Bayreuth, thus fulfilling this initial requirement regarding the size of the orchestra, which sounded powerful and expansive, as well as rich in textures and impeccably clear.

Studium Aureum inaugurates a new season with a revised and expanded lineup, with nearly seventy members on stage, including singers, musicians, soloists, and, of course, the conductor. Carlos Ponseti, the silent musician. The chosen piece also has enough elements of special interest, although, being a Mozart piece, it doesn't usually appear in the programs. Penitent Davide K 469 It is a cantata that was commissioned by the Tonkünstler-Societät (Musicians' Society) of Vienna, on the occasion of Lent. The year was 1785, a rather busy year for the genius, during which he signed up to sixteen works, among which we find three piano concertos, a sonata for piano and violin, a quartet for piano and strings... and we already know that religious music was not among his preferences. A good reason to undertake the Kyrie and the Glory to its unfinished, who knows why, Great Mass in C minor K.427. Perhaps that's why there are so few performances. The golden selection, therefore, and as on so many occasions, has added value.

The cunning Guineueta, By Leoš Janáček, it might have seemed like a minor opera to open a season, that of the Gran Teatre del Liceu. In Czech, less than two hours long, and without the less-than-high-profile voices that, moreover, will line the majority of the titles in it. But whoever thought this way is seriously mistaken, and for quite a few reasons. To begin with, Leoš Janáček's music, a collage of delightful and highly varied factors and circumstances, which make each moment entirely appropriate to what is happening on stage. And again, although it's not news, from Josep Pons's baton emerged all the colors of a score filled with thousands of nuances and details of a complex yet exquisite simplicity. Only one small, however, at some point in the soliloquy of the gamekeeper, the male protagonist, the fragment that the composer chose to play on the day of his funeral, performed by baritone Peter Mattei, was overshadowed by the orchestra. However, the chromatic explosion was an unattainable musical kaleidoscope that placed this great little opera in its rightful place.