What is Aida really
about? Is it a story of love and jealousy,
involving Aida, Amneris and Radames?
Is it a political drama about the war
between Egypt and Ethiopia - if so the
sly realist politician Amonasro’s scheming
becomes all-important and the third
act becomes the centre-point of the
drama? Is it a religious drama, verging
on oratorio - the priests and the religious
rites are also central? Or is it just
a flamboyant spectacular with trumpets
and parades and that famous march -
hundreds of thousands of visitors to
the Arena di Verona would definitely
vote for this last option? In fact it
is all of this and the circumstances
about the coming into being of this
work give the clue. The opera was commissioned
for the inauguration of the Suez canal
and Verdi and his librettist Ghislanzoni
probably reasoned like this: since it
is in Egypt, one of the oldest high-cultures,
we should refer to the religion of the
times of the Pharaohs; since the building
of the canal was an important financial
and political project it wouldn’t be
wrong to refer to a history filled with
wars and conflicts; since it was a gala
performance there should be some pomp
and circumstance; and since they wanted
an opera, there had to be a love story!
So there we are: the two wizards put
all these ingredients in their kettle,
stirred and out came Aida – the
opera in four acts divided in seven
scenes with, in some productions, horses,
even elephants, soldiers, priests, ordinary
people, filling even the vastest stage
and with those blazing Aida-trumpets,
sung and acted heart-on-the-sleeve and
with big gestures. I have seen it in
Verona with 20,000 other on-lookers
and it has the tingle-factor.
This production from
La Monnaie in Brussels is different.
Directed and with set and lighting design
by Robert Wilson we are in for a scaled
down, stylised, almost abstract reading.
It is indeed a very beautiful performance,
colourful in a peeled-off way, sophisticated,
ingenuous. Much of the action is against
a black back-drop or with a midnight-blue
sky (?) seen even further back, through
openings in the black back-drop. Often
a person in contrasting colours passes
slowly, seen in profile, behind the
main actors, at other times actors not
actually doing anything are seen as
black silhouettes in the background.
During the public scenes, the triumphal
scene among them, the stage is crowded
but there is very little festivity,
more like a funeral ceremony – until
the dancers appear. Aida as an
oratorio? No, not quite.
However, the private
scenes, when for instance Aida or Amneris
meets Radames, are also abstract. First
they almost constantly move in a somnambulistic
fashion, they never face each other
- Amneris says to Aida: "Look into
my eyes!" but turns her back to
Aida! Is this psychology?. The gestures
are also stylised, formulae-ridden and
as far as I know hardly applicable to
what a Belgian audience would recognise
as body-language. The box cover talks
about "a Zen-like tranquillity"
and that the production is "reminiscent
at times of Japanese Noh theatre".
Be that as it may at least one viewer
felt, after 2½ hours of un-interpreted
sign-language, that he was distanced,
even cut off from the central conflicts.
The third act, the Nile scene, saved
the day, much thanks to Mark Doss’s
very alive and intense Amonasro. He
also had his formulae but his face and
his vocal inflexions made him a real
person. Amneris and, at times, Aida
also showed human feelings, Aida mainly
though sadness and sorrow. As for Radames
he was stone-faced most of the time
and so was Ramfis. It was still the
"thought-provoking experience"
the box cover talked about but I may
not always have got the right thoughts.
The singing has to
be admired for the care and obedience
to the score. There was no bawling from
the tenor, no glass-shattering fortissimos
from the soprano – I have rarely heard
a more lyrical Aida. On the other
hand the pure quality of the singing
was not always on the highest level:
Aida could be shrieky, Amonasro, for
all his dramatic conviction, lacked
the volume and the sonority of the big
names and Ildiko Komlosi for all her
intensity, has lost the steadiness she
had in the 1990s when I heard her in
Budapest and Vienna. The healthiest
voices were to be found in the bass-ment
– both Guido Jentjens and Orlin Anastassov
were quite impressive.
Kazushi Ono conducting
was somewhat low-key, in line with the
production, the orchestra and chorus
were excellent and the audience was
enthusiastic.
If you’re looking for
a "traditional" Aida,
then look elsewhere; but if you are
into Zen philosophy and prepared for
an evening with no eye-contact between
the characters, then this is your version.
And the beauty of the sets is really
ravishing!
Göran Forsling