Tremendous Performances Create Magic in Aida at the Royal Ballet and Opera (Column)

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© Marc Brenner / The Royal Opera

Set in Ancient Egypt, Giuseppe Verdi’s Aida of 1871, with a libretto by Antonio Ghislanzoni, centres on a love triangle between Radamès, Amneris and Aida. As a Princess of Egypt and the daughter of the King, Amneris believes that her feelings for the Chief of the Guard Radamès ought to be reciprocated, and is horrified when she discovers that he and Aida, an Ethiopian slave, are actually in love.

When Aida’s father Amonasro is captured in battle, with the Egyptians not realising that he is the King of Ethiopia, the slave finds herself torn between her private love for Radamès and her public responsibility towards her people. Amonasro wants Aida to use Radamès’ feelings for her to discover the Egyptian army’s next movements so that the Ethiopians can be ready and waiting. Aida cannot bear to betray Radamès but reluctantly squeezes the information out of him by suggesting they should escape, and enquiring as to what route would see them avoid anyone. Radamès’ response gives away where the Egyptian army is headed, and when it becomes clear that Amonasro has overheard him give out this military secret he is charged by the Egyptians with treason.

Amneris implores Radamès to deny the accusations, and promises to intercede to save him if he agrees never to see Aida again. Radamès, however, says he cannot forsake her, even though she has disappeared, and refuses to defend himself. He is subsequently found guilty and placed in a tomb, with a rock laid over it so that he cannot escape. He then discovers Aida is in there, having spied what the Egyptians were about to do and crept in so that they can die in each others’ arms.

Although the opera is immensely popular, it is incredibly difficult to stage well. This is because it is hard to capture the exoticism and exuberance of Ancient Egypt without producing something that feels gaudy or overblown. Robert Carsen’s production, which premiered at the Royal Opera House in 2022 and is now revived by Gilles Rico, might be seen as going to the opposite extreme by generating an extremely austere atmosphere. It is nonetheless effective, while on this occasion the evening is made truly special by the strength of the cast.

Passion and consistency underpin the performances of all of the principals so that even when they are asserting their voices at full throttle, there is never any sense in which they are suddenly going to tire or even momentarily waver. It is also notable how their sounds and acting seem to work as one to create highly believable characters. In the title role, Anna Pirozzi’s soprano is rich and nuanced, but her sound is always so precise and well shaped that it carries its own sense of purity. She highlights both Aida’s vulnerability, by virtue of her being a slave in a foreign country, and spirit, which means no one has broken her and she possesses her own thoughts and feelings.

On opening night Jorge De León stepped in at relatively short notice to replace Riccardo Massi as Radamès, and proved to be something of a revelation as his tenor is exceptionally expansive. This, coupled with the security of his voice, sees it hit wondrous heights on a frequent basis across the evening, and his cry of ‘Sacerdote, io resto a te’ at the end of Act III, which indicates his surrender to his own side, is especially compelling. He captures a certain sense of the bright eyed ‘youth’ when he is determined to lead the Egyptian army into battle and is subsequently victorious, but also convinces as a torn man who faces an increasing number of dilemmas as the opera progresses. De León is currently set to appear for the first three performances.

So impassioned is Raehann Bryce-Davis’ mezzo-soprano that Amneris’ presence in Act IV seems far greater than it normally does. It is also impossible not to feel sorry for her as she regrets how jealousy got the better of her even before the trial begins, leading her to cry in vain for Radamès to be saved during it. Amartuvshin Enkhbat asserts a tremendously powerful baritone as he reveals Amonasro’s capacity to be manipulative, but also enables us to see things from his point of view. There is also first rate support from Alexander Köpeczi as Ramfis, George Andguladze as the King of Egypt, Andrés Presno as the Messenger and Khayakazi Madlala as the Voice of the High Priestess. Daniel Oren’s conducting is highly effective as it feels quite monumental, with the consequent ‘sturdiness’ that is brought to the sound being the means whereby lines, colours and textures are strongly delineated.

The production sets the action in a totalitarian state in the modern day. At first glance, its flag looks convincing enough to pass for a real one, but on closer inspection it is revealed to be of a fictitious country, thus emphasising that the production is not commenting on any specific state. In Miriam Buether’s set, high concrete walls line the sides of the stage and create an area that can pass for a corridor, a temple or a courtroom depending on what the drama requires.

The area is generally effective as it enables soloists to shine free from distraction, yet still feels imposing enough when soldiers line both sides of a red carpet to welcome the King. There are times, however, when the production removes the story’s senses of mystery and mystical allure to too great a degree. For example, the ‘Dance of the Moorish Slaves’ sees nothing more than the female chorus setting the table for a lavish feast. Conversely, Act II’s ‘Ballet’, danced here by soldiers and excellently choreographed by Rebecca Howell, works well by becoming a meditation on the practice and futility of war. Images of fighters appear on a screen behind, showing how every person who dies is an individual with a family and story, while the (normally) ‘Triumphal March’ sees the soldiers carrying off the coffins of fallen comrades.

In the original production the set and directorial choices still made Act II’s second scene feel too sterile to convey the emotions that the music was designed to stir. Now, with the chorus under William Spaulding sounding superb, the atmosphere does feel suitably overwhelming. The act ends in particularly strong fashion as Duncan McLean’s accompanying video projections, while highlighting the horrors of war, work with the tone of the piece as explosions match the final bars of music.

Acts III and IV are even more effective. They often see two figures interact typically off-centre so that huge shadows of them are cast on one concrete wall while smaller, more intimate ones appear on the other. It is here that the relatively minimalist set-up really produces dividends by enabling us to focus wholeheartedly on the protagonists’ emotions, and the final scene, here occurring in a storage bunker for bombs, feels beautifully tender rather than overtly impassioned. The consequence is that, with a brilliantly strong cast and the staging coming into its own more, this revival of Aida is a winner.

by Sam Smith

Aida | 28 January - 12 February 2025 | Royal Ballet and Opera, Covent Garden

the 30 of January, 2025 | Print