RECORDINGS IN REVIEW

1 6 3 R R E C O R D I N G S I N R E V I E W D E W E Y F A U L K N E R Cue the elephants, position the marching trumpets, Giuseppe Verdi’s Aida is back in town, or at least back in the recording studio. And the hype machine is marching in with it. After all, this is the first studio recording of the opera in a quarter-century, so we have now today’s singers in this great work, not long ago the most popular opera in the repertory, and the latest in digital recording, all packaged in today’s favored book format for CDs with libretto, notes, and the three discs in attached sleeves (which makes them a bit di≈cult to retrieve). The reviews have been appropriately enthusiastic, if more so about Antonio Pappano’s conducting and the playing of his Roman Santa Cecilia Orchestra than about the singing. Gramophone ’s review calls the set ‘‘as fine an all-round Aida as the gramophone has yet given us,’’ whereas BBC Music hedges a bit with ‘‘The cast is surely impossible to beat today,’’ true enough, but . . . The French Diapason is less restrained: ‘‘An ensemble of qualities as impressive as the pyramids of Cairo. We can confirm without hesitation that this is not just an Aida for the present, but an Aida made to last, at the same level as the benchmark recordings of the past.’’ Hmmm. Perhaps it’s more convincing in French. 1 6 4 F A U L K N E R Y Before glancing at these benchmark recordings, and a few others , we might consider some of the problems that Aida poses and those that it does not. Verdi had firm control over the plot. He wrote it to an original scenario, almost unique for him, in which he had a firm hand. Its commission was from the khedive of Egypt to open the new Cairo Opera house, where it was premiered on 24 December 1871. Verdi was more interested in its European premiere , which occurred on 8 February 1872 at the Teatro alla Scala in Milan. As expected, it soon became a great success, spectacular but not unmanageably so. With its ‘‘ancient Egypt’’ plot, Aida allowed in elements of French grand opera, particularly the massive closing declaration of war in Act 1, scene 1, the ceremony before the god Phthà in Act 1, scene 2, and the huge triumphal scene in Act 2, scene 2. There are three separate ballets and numerous ensembles, though only three arias. There are sonic e√ects created by placing the chorus and many extra trumpets at varying distances from the proscenium , even burying them backstage. The orchestral writing is colorful and exotic but often delicate and subtle. And it is relatively short for grand opera: Verdi clearly did not want a repeat of the cuts inflicted upon Don Carlo by the Paris Opéra in 1867. In keeping with the work’s scale, Verdi uses five principal singers. A heavy dramatic soprano in the lead role, the enslaved ‘‘Ethiopian’’ princess Aida; a heavy mezzo-soprano for Pharaoh’s daughter, and Aida’s mistress, Amneris; a moderately powerful tenor for Radamès, the up-and-coming Egyptian warrior; a solid baritone for Amonasro, Aida’s captured father; and a solid bass for high priest Ramfis. It helps to have a first-rate bass for the King (= Pharaoh) as well. In Acts 3 and 4 the singers dominate, especially Amneris in Act 4, scene 1. Verdi’s main casting concerns were for Amonasro, who must be a superb actor, and Amneris, of whom he wrote, ‘‘Amneris has a bit of a devil in her, needs a powerful voice, is very emotional and very, very dramatic.’’ A key element here is power, both for her and the other principals, as Verdi does not hold back, either with his vocal writing or his orchestras and choruses. And finding su≈cient power in singers, particularly the soprano and tenor, has been the casting problem for the past quartercentury , though it was not earlier. Capturing Aida for...