Aida (review)

One couldn't blame any listener or viewer for approaching with a certain skepticism an Aida sung by a cast of twenty-somethings, even with as respected a figure as Franco Zeffirelli as the production's guiding spirit. The legendary Italian director-designer, however, knows what he is about. He has come up with a traditional-looking but highly successful presentation, one with the potential to introduce a whole new audience to Verdi's opera. Obviously, those seeking a visually and vocally grand-scale version must look elsewhere, but Aida, let us not forget, is in large part an intimate work, a fact of which we are constantly reminded in this version.

Voices as young as these should probably only undertake Aida in a small theater such as the Teatro Giuseppe Verdi in Busseto, Italy, where this production was taped. In that environment, so steeped in Verdian tradition, Zeffirelli staged the opera as a fitting commemoration of the hundredth anniversary of the composer's death. Auditions for the major roles were international in scope. Those eventually chosen from the wide field had the chance to work intensively not only with Zeffirelli but also with Carlo Bergonzi; the great tenor is identified in the credits as "Choir artistic director," but where the principals are concerned, he clearly exercised nearly as significant an influence as Zeffirelli himself.

The production itself covers no new ground, but it hardly matters. It is actually a treat to witness a straightforward (but never dull) interpretation of any standard-repertoire work these days. The principals relate to each other intelligently and the chorus comes across more effectively than one would have thought possible, given the limited stage space. The sets demonstrate Zeffirelli's unerring eye for detail and wonderful taste, especially the ravishing painted backdrop for the Nile Scene. It is to be hoped that these designs will one day be expanded for a big-house presentation of this opera. No expense was spared on the costumes of Anna Anni, seemingly constructed from fabrics of luxurious quality. (Only Radamès's bathrobe-like garment for the last two acts and his headgear for act 3 do not fill the bill). Some of Amneris's outfits do tend to recall The Ten Commandments, but her shiny black number for act 4 is a spectacular creation.

Thanks no doubt in large part to Bergonzi, the cast leaves little to chance musically, approaching this challenging score with honest musicianship, absolute thoroughness, and a fair degree of elegance. Quite unexpectedly, the Americans in the three central roles sing remarkably fine Italian. All the principals phrase in long arcs; the listener is constantly aware of passages taken in a single breath that are ordinarily heard in two or even three. Whether this would be possible for them in a larger theater is hard to predict, but certainly one welcomes it here and wishes that more singers on the international circuit could do the same when performing Aida.

The second disc contains a documentary entitled "The Making of Aida," which demonstrates Zeffirelli's total commitment to the project. Working with this youthful cast must have renewed his artistic energies, and the artists clearly treasured the opportunity to collaborate with him. The director's efforts produced only one brilliant dramatic portrayal (the title role), but—with the exception of the rather "old-school" Amonasro—all achieve a convincing involvement onstage. They are often photographed in merciless closeup, and it is to their great credit that their facial expression seldom, if ever, betrays any feeling of exaggeration.

The performance is strongest where it matters most—in Aida herself, sung by the extraordinarily gifted Adina...