A hugely enjoyable production of this unsurpassably wonderful opera. Superficially Rigoletto might bear comparison with the recently released movie version of Fifty Shades of Grey – it’s largely about sex, but some of the more controversial content had to be toned down before it was allowed to be performed; it features an impossibly virginal young girl swept off her feet by an experienced older man; it was a scandal and a cause celebre when it was first performed in 1851. But there all comparison must cease, because Rigoletto is simply a masterpiece and Fifty Shades of Grey is, well, pretty crap.

This production saucily emphasizes the decadence and immorality of the court of Mantua by filling it with very beautiful half-naked girls, simulating an orgy, and by brutally exposing the completely naked body of the seduced and ruined daughter of Count Monterone on stage. This does add a compelling depth to the powerful denunciation of the Duke and his evil side-kick Rigoletto by Monterone (in some productions he just appears rather a stuffy old spoil-sport) – you can see why a father might legitimately object to such treatment, and it certainly prepares you for the Duke’s complete lack of empathy for his subsequent conquests. I’m not sure it was terribly good for the Duke’s voice, which, following his rolling about orgiastically with the naked ladies, was somewhat erratic in his first big song.

This first scene was a powerful and eye-opening portrayal of the sort of corruption that occurs within a group of people who give one another permission to behave badly – it’s OK if everyone is doing it. Subsequent scenes were much more traditional in their exposition of the frankly sensational story. The sets and costumes were as impressive as we have come to expect from this excellent company, but as with Wolf Hall, the male costumes of the sixteenth century are unforgiving to those without serious calf muscles – one tends to look like a padded box with two sticks poking out at the bottom.

That aside, the audience was in for an absolutely ravishing experience. Rigoletto was brilliantly brought to life by Vladimir Dragos, possessor of a superbly resonant, powerful and emotional voice; Gilda was personated by exquisite blonde goddess Maria Tonina, whose voice was delicate, light and girlish, but also capable of the necessary pathos; the Duke, Giorgi Meladze, came into his own after his initial wobbles and triumphantly performed those awesome hits, La Donna e mobile, and the wonderful quartet at the inn at the beginning of Act III – I cannot describe how thrillingly wonderful this was, or how it reduced me to quivering jelly – thank goodness for waterproof mascara is all I can say.