Wednesday October 7, 2009 - My first opera of the new season. Illustration above: Paul Wunderlich. The performance built as it progressed and by the Nile scene the opera seemed to be drawing me in as seldom happens with non-Wagner repertoire these days. An annoying cellphone disruption as the King of Egypt was about to address the issue of going to war was an all-too-familiar intrusion but overall the audience were reasonably quiet (one ill-timed sneeze). The upper reaches of the House were substantially full but there were several empty seats down in the high-priced areas.
Johan Botha as Radames (Richard Termine photo) was the vocal glory of the performance. A very large man with a very large voice, Botha could easily have chosen to simply power thru the music and it would have been impressive because vocal power is his, and to spare. Instead he concentrated on phrasing, lyricism and dynamics making his singing unexpectedly vivid and even carressing at times. He seems to have complete control over his instrument and produced some lovely demi-tints, with an especially graceful diminuendo to end 'Celeste Aida'. But when he let the sound out, the rafters rang. It was his voice that cut thru the big ensembles rather than his soprano colleague's. Botha gave us sustained, generous vocalism all evening...he sounded remarkably fresh at the end of a long, arduous sing. Bravo!
The beautifully rendered offstage chant of the Temple priestess by soprano Jennifer Check again raised the question of why she is not better employed at the Met. Yes, she is a large woman but Mr. Botha is a very large man and no one objected to his presence on the stage. We read glowing reports of Jennifer's successes in NORMA and the Verdi REQUIEM elsewhere while we must content ourselves here with only hearing her for a few phrases. As the visual and physical aspects of opera are increasingly stressed while voices take a back seat, you can sort of understand why opera is losing its capacity to thrill. One wonders how Pavarotti, Caballe or Jessye Norman would fare if they were trying to start their careers in this present state of affairs.
At any rate, Jennifer's singing was beautifully sculpted with warm legato phrasing.
Daniele Gatti (above) on the podium, subjected to some booing at the season prima, gave a magnificent reading of the score which was quite revelatory for me. A couple of willful tempi were forgotten as page after page of illuminating music-making by the maestro (who led the opera without using the score) made AIDA seem fresh and wondrous. Individual musicians - notably oboist Elaine Douvas and concert master supreme David Chan - made superb contributions to the evening.
In the Temple scene, Gatti stressed the mystery of the rites with his hushed dynamics and slow tempi creating a spiritual/aural link to the ancient gods. The Maestro and his musicians reached an apex in the Nile scene which extended to the end of the opera. Starting with the spine-tingling prelude to 'Qui Radames verra...' Maestro Gatti transformed the later duet for Aida and her father by building the rhythmic underpinnings with an unusual sense of yearning and despair; starting at 'Padre...a costoro...schiava...non sono...' the continuous accented orchestral figure was stressed in a remarkbly urgent way as it rose up the harmonic scale. Truly mesmerizing. Later as Aida attempts to persuade Radames to flee at 'Fuggiam gli ardori inospiti...', Ms. Douvas underscored the drama with her plaintive playing, tinged with a touch of sensuality as the lovers envision the possibility of escape. Overall the scene was so remarkably crafted and played that Verdi's genius astounded me yet again.
Violeta Urmana (above, a Christine Schneider portrait) was for the most part a successful Aida. The sound of the voice is rather more metallic than velvety and had a bit of an edge at first which smoothed out as the evening progressed. She was unable to dominate the big ensembles in the way the most thrilling Aidas do, and her high-C in 'O patria mia' was flat. But she was verbally incisive and was able to produce some impressive piano top notes which she tapered with skill. Her best singing came from the Nile duet with Radames right thru to the end of the Tomb scene in which both she and Mr. Botha seemed perfectly and suitably enraptured vocally.
Dolora Zajick (above, Marty Sohl photo) is still a highly effective Amneris. She has sung this role so many times that its really in her blood. The orchestra covered her in the opening scene and the voice seemed a bit smaller in scope and tighter in production that in the past. Starting with 'Fu la sorte...' in the Boudoir scene, more of the usual Zajick juiciness came into play as she slammed into chest voice and plucked high notes out of the air. She generously rescued the big Triumphal scene ensemble with a ringing top B-flat to assist the more recessive Ms. Urmana and in fact a friendly power-competiition between Zajick and Botha in the concertato section was fun and ended in a draw.
Zajick's interpretation of the Judgement Scene is so well-structured and dramatically so perfectly intoned as she moves from the blazing duet with Radames to the poignant piano phrases of 'Ohime...morir mi sento...' and then summons her powers for the final curse. Her last top note was not the lightning bolt she usually produces here, being a shade flat and a bit clouded. Earlier scenes where she gave the impression of pacing herself or coasting a little were swept away by the passion of her vocalism here.
Carlo Guelfi's initial weak impression in the Triumphal scene was offset by his incisive work in the Nile duet. His voice lacks plushness and he at first sounded almost like a buffo who had wandered into the wrong place. Neither of the bassos - Roberto Scandiuzzi (Ramfis) and Stefan Kocan (The King) - were more than routine although each had his moments.
One reason for attending was to see what Alexei Ratmansky would make of the ballet sequences: the brief one in the Boudoir scene and the extended one in the Triumphal scene. The new Ratmansky ballet segments look fine and were very well-danced; I loved immediately spotting the gorgeous Emery LeCrone among the dancers during the Triumphal ballet.
Ratmansky stages the dance interlude in the Boudoir scene, an
The longer ballet of the Triumphal scene was just getting underway when one of the dancers' plaited hair pieces fell to the stage. This was a bit distracting; it was eventually kicked aside and disposed of by one of the priests. Wearing white costumes trimmed with tourquoise and gold, the dancers moved thru this celebratory passage with flair. The choreographer again maintains a swift pacing of movement with the men circling about in leaping patterns, the tempo is breathless and driven.
Ratmansky's contributions dressed up a production that is otherwise staged without much excitement. The sets still impress, but the Triumphal scene seems less populated and less grand than previously. In the past, the Ethiopian prisoners in this scene were always played by actors: well-chosen people of colour including a couple of hunky muscle guys, some fiercely rebellious women, younger girls trembling in fear of being raped or slaughtered. There was always a wonderful tension created as these miserable people waited to hear what their fate would be. They have now been replaced for the most part by choristers who look self-conscious and are too concentrated on their musical cues to be effective dramatically. I suppose it's a minor point, but it's just such details that make can an evening at the opera memorable on a human level.
Overall, thanks largely to Maestro Gatti and his players, the evening made me feel connected to opera in a way that is becoming increasingly rare. Especially from the Nile Scene on, I was really engrossed by the music. As David Chan wafted his final glowing piano phrase into the house, I was very glad to have been there.
I wasn't sure I was going to stay to the end when the night started, but the night flew by (except for the lengthy intermissions, which are getting longer by the week). The musical performance really was very exciting. (As far as intermissions, I guess we should be grateful we weren't subjected to the 45+ minutes that are the intermissions for the Met's current "Tosca" and "Lucia," among others. It's really ridiculous and makes already long evenings painfully long!) Thanks for inviting me Philip!
Posted by: Dmitry | October 08, 2009 at 10:34 PM
The problem with the long intermissions, aside from the fact that they are BORING, is that whatever dramatic impetus is developing in the performance gets lost. 25 minutes should be the maximum break between acts.
Gatti was really exciting; I'm still recalling details of his reading of the score. If there was more mixing of casts later in the run I would go see it again; however - after seeing her Norma - I have no wish to encounter Hasmik Papian again, although I did like her Aida a few seasons ago.
Posted by: Philip | October 08, 2009 at 10:45 PM