Saturday 4 August 2012

Aida

(Australian Opera)

Giuseppe Verdi's 'Aida'. Amneris, Pharoah's daughter, is in love with Radames, an Egyptian army captain, himself secretly in love with Amneris' handmaiden, Aida, an Ethiopian slave. This menage a trois is unlikely to end well especially as Egypt and Ethiopia are about to go to war with each other. For that matter, Italian Grand Opera rarely ends well for its main characters.

In a sense this production didn't begin well for me. The Director is Graeme Murphy and his interpretation had my imagination running at a tangent from the start. At the opening five Egyptian Gods - human bodies with bird-like heads - glide across the stage on a moving pathway. Their posture and hand movements no doubt are intended to echo ancient hieroglyphics but my first thought was of signalling traffic police. Radames enters the stage guided by the 'traffic police' and is greeted by a huge slightly curved sword descending from on high and hovering just out of his reach. The gentle yet firm upward curve of the sword made me think immediately of a giant erect penis. Don't worry, its me not you.

Every time that damn erect object returned I had the same thought. Later the penis...I mean, sword...hovers near the pyramid as though waiting to be fellated. Then in the triumphal march scene Radames eventually appears with his erect penis...er, sword...in hand.

Enough of my demented thoughts, though, as this is a fine presentation of the opera. Radames is sung by Rosario La Spina and his Aida by Latonia Moore. I don't have Marcellous' knowledge of musicianship or voice but in my opinion La Spina and Moore perform admirably. They are well matched with their strong classically Italian sounding voices. They are also a match physically which is a bit of a pity because to maintain the illusion of romantic lovers they are best viewed through closed eyes. The sound, though, is superb. Amneris is sung by Milijana Nikolic whose deeper (mezzo soprano?) voice is less appealing to me but that is just a personal preference.

Murphy's production edges near 1940s MGM musical overkill at times but also has its moments of restraint perhaps best exemplified in the opening scene of Act 3 which is mostly low key and beautiful, that is, once the topless female dancer swimming in the front-of-stage pool has departed the scene.

I have penalised the production one star for the traffic police and giant penis.

☆☆☆☆

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