After the composition of Don Carlos for performance at
the Paris Opera during the Great Exhibition of 1867, and some
alterations to La Forza del Destino, Verdi really thought
he had hung up his compositional pen. However, an approach came
from the Khedive (Viceroy) of Egypt to write an opera, on an Egyptian
theme, for premiere at the new Cairo opera house opened to celebrate
the construction of the Suez Canal. Verdi at first turned down
the request repeating his refusal later. Mariette, a French national
and renowned Egyptologist in the employ of the Khedive, sent Verdi
a synopsis. Stimulated by the synopsis, and also, perhaps, by
the fact that Gounod or Wagner might be approached if he continued
to prove reluctant, Verdi set out his terms. These stipulated
his control and ownership of the libretto, and that he, Verdi,
retained all rights except for performances in Egypt. He also
stipulated a fee of 150,000 Francs, payable at the Rothschild
Bank in Paris on delivery of the work. Marriette conveyed his
acceptance of these terms to Du Locle on 10 June 1870. The fee
made Verdi the highest paid composer ever.
Don Carlos
had been a Grand Opera in the French style complete with a ballet
sequence. Verdi’s Aida was nearly as grand but in a more
Italian style. It has the drama of the father-daughter relationship
as well as the complex love rivalry between the two female leads.
Alongside these elements Verdi wrote a scene of great grandeur
and pageantry as well as ballet interludes. Its mix has made it
a constant magnet for opera and recording companies. Tebaldi recorded
the eponymous role for Decca in 1952 (see review),
Milanov for RCA in 1955 (see review)
and Callas for EMI in the same year (see review).
The advent of stereo suited the grandeur of the work to perfection
and Decca went back into the studios with Tebaldi again in 1958.
In this stereo version Karajan also has Carlo Bergonzi as Radames.
In this production by John Culshaw, Decca set out to present the
work as a sonic spectacular and the recording held prime place
in the catalogue for many years. On the recording front Decca
were in association with RCA who had split from their relationship
with EMI. Artists were being freely exchanged between the two
in a period when such sharing was rare. Solti, contracted to Decca,
was loaned to RCA for recordings of La Bohème (see
review)
and Rigoletto (see review).
Meanwhile RCA’s new soprano, Leontyne Price, was making big waves
in the operatic world as Aida. The upshot was that Solti, with
Decca advice on recording, went to Rome Opera House, contracted
to RCA, in 1961 for another recording of Aida in spectacular
stereo.
Aida is an
opera for spinto, big-voiced singers. That is what you get with
Jon Vickers’ Radames. He is the opposite of Bergonzi in the Karajan
set, tending to throw his virile voice at the role. There is no
way his opening Celeste Aida (tr.1) is going to finish
with a diminuendo. His is a vocally thrilling, viscerally exciting
interpretation and he can, and does show more vocal sensitivity
in the final tomb scene (tr.13). Leontyne Price’s voice at this
stage of her career was more silvery than smoky. Her Aida is sung
with lovely even legato and excellent diction. If on the 1969
recording for RCA she has more interpretive insight, her beautiful
singing in Rittorna vincitor (tr.3) with a lovely dying
diminuendo and the clear unforced high notes in O patria mia
(tr.7) are more than adequate compensation. Neither she nor Merrill
as Amonasro, or even Solti on the podium, can bring the frisson
between father and daughter of Callas and Gobbi in Ciel mio
padre (tr.8) as her father bullies Aida to tempt Radames into
betraying the secret departure route of the Egyptian army. That
said Merrill’s steady, even, tonal richness and sonority has its
own appeal.
In the dramatic trial
scene of act four (trs.9 -10) Rita Gorr’s strong Amneris has its
virtues without erasing memories of the Italian dramatic mezzo
Fedora Barbieri, who graces both the Callas and Milanov recordings,
or Simionato for Karajan. Solti drives the pageantry of act two
(Trs.4-6) for all it is worth. It’s exciting but Karajan does
it better. The recording is clear and vibrant. The leaflet is
minimal with a brief essay-cum-synopsis and a track-listing. Given
its timing these highlights could gainfully have started with
the opening prelude and Ramfis and Radames’s introduction to his
big aria. I suspect it is a straight lift of an earlier anthology
from this performance when going over seventy five minutes was
problematic.
Robert J Farr