April 17, 2009
Aida is perhaps the grandest of the Grand Operas - an invitation to lavish spectacle and ruinous excess in staging. Consider the Met's 1984 production with dear old Pavarotti, when the conquered Ethiopians entered to the Grand March, drawing fragments of gigantic statues which dwarfed not only the ant-like human players, but also (in a weird Time-Lordy way) the entire theatre (you can see this on You Tube). Though not quite in the same league, the set designed by Will Bowen for the Ellen Kent farewell tour is breathtakingly beautiful, adapting easily from palace to temple to avenue to tomb, and practically forming a character in its own right. This opulent setting is filled with exquisitely costumed Egyptians, be-jewelled and be-wigged, their life of regimented hierarchy and ritual evoked by their tightly choreographed synchronised gestures and movements, and the passion within by giant bowls of silken flames. The Ethiopians, with their unsymmetrical costumes and shaggy 'do's, clearly pose a threat - cultural as much as military - to the Egyptians' ordered existence.
This is one of those operas (and there are many) in which every utterance combining sense, feeling and intelligence comes from the female characters, and the men are for the most part prize chumps. This is evident from Act 1, Scene 1, when Radames appears not to notice that his great passion for the captured Ethiopian slave Aida is absolutely not consistent with his stated professional goals of conquering her people, burning her cities and killing her father - a conflict that is perfectly clear to Aida herself. Irakli Grigali, who last year made such a sympathetic and touching Don José in Carmen, was unable to do much with the mutton-headed Radames, except sing it very well, and in consequence was dramatically overshadowed by two towering performances from Elena Dee as Aida, and Zarui Vardanean as her rival, princess Amneris. Elena Dee, a petite, slender and beautiful Aida, is gifted with an exceptionally powerful, richly-toned voice, one of the few capable of making itself heard over the full orchestra, and dramatically capable of portraying the agonizing conflict torturing Aida, and illuminating the decisions she makes. The superb scene (Act 2, Scene 1) in which Amneris forces Aida to reveal her love for Radames also contains an important dramatic crux: the moment when Aida, moved by personal sympathy for Amneris, almost reveals that she, too, is a princess - but pulls herself up short before saying it. This is the moment that alerts the audience to Aida's priorities. One of the dramatic themes explored by the libretto is what it means to be a slave, as opposed to a princess; a particularly significant question for a woman, socially constrained in so many ways. For a princess, Aida does spend a lot of time on her knees begging; but she never forgets who she really is, and this is how her father is able to get to her in Act 3. When Aida asks Radames the question that will betray the location of the Egyptian troops to Amonasro (played with great charisma as a warrior-bully by Vladimir Dragos), she can't even look at him, and her grief and shame sink her voice almost to a whisper - it was beautifully done.
But the triumph and revelation of the evening was Zarui Vardanean as Amneris. She began by being magnificently spiteful to Aida, a powerhouse of Machiavellian manipulation, full of plans and stratagems to ensure she gets her man - but ultimately she is humbled by the discovery of how powerless she actually is. The most moving point in the opera is in the closing moments, when Amneris prays for forgiveness and wishes the lovers peace as they die in each other's arms. The staging of this was really beautiful - somehow they got the light to fade from the bodies so that they appeared to be vanishing, melting into the gathering dark. It was literally a hair-raising moment.
Altogether, a magnificent production with two outstanding performances, moving and nuanced. Definitely a must-see.
This is one of those operas (and there are many) in which every utterance combining sense, feeling and intelligence comes from the female characters, and the men are for the most part prize chumps. This is evident from Act 1, Scene 1, when Radames appears not to notice that his great passion for the captured Ethiopian slave Aida is absolutely not consistent with his stated professional goals of conquering her people, burning her cities and killing her father - a conflict that is perfectly clear to Aida herself. Irakli Grigali, who last year made such a sympathetic and touching Don José in Carmen, was unable to do much with the mutton-headed Radames, except sing it very well, and in consequence was dramatically overshadowed by two towering performances from Elena Dee as Aida, and Zarui Vardanean as her rival, princess Amneris. Elena Dee, a petite, slender and beautiful Aida, is gifted with an exceptionally powerful, richly-toned voice, one of the few capable of making itself heard over the full orchestra, and dramatically capable of portraying the agonizing conflict torturing Aida, and illuminating the decisions she makes. The superb scene (Act 2, Scene 1) in which Amneris forces Aida to reveal her love for Radames also contains an important dramatic crux: the moment when Aida, moved by personal sympathy for Amneris, almost reveals that she, too, is a princess - but pulls herself up short before saying it. This is the moment that alerts the audience to Aida's priorities. One of the dramatic themes explored by the libretto is what it means to be a slave, as opposed to a princess; a particularly significant question for a woman, socially constrained in so many ways. For a princess, Aida does spend a lot of time on her knees begging; but she never forgets who she really is, and this is how her father is able to get to her in Act 3. When Aida asks Radames the question that will betray the location of the Egyptian troops to Amonasro (played with great charisma as a warrior-bully by Vladimir Dragos), she can't even look at him, and her grief and shame sink her voice almost to a whisper - it was beautifully done.
But the triumph and revelation of the evening was Zarui Vardanean as Amneris. She began by being magnificently spiteful to Aida, a powerhouse of Machiavellian manipulation, full of plans and stratagems to ensure she gets her man - but ultimately she is humbled by the discovery of how powerless she actually is. The most moving point in the opera is in the closing moments, when Amneris prays for forgiveness and wishes the lovers peace as they die in each other's arms. The staging of this was really beautiful - somehow they got the light to fade from the bodies so that they appeared to be vanishing, melting into the gathering dark. It was literally a hair-raising moment.
Altogether, a magnificent production with two outstanding performances, moving and nuanced. Definitely a must-see.