This was recorded at La Scala during the controversial run of performances in December, 2006 that featured Roberto Alagna’s infamous departure from the stage after being booed in Act 1. Judging from his performance here (the exact date is not provided), the audience owes him an apology: his is a handsomely sung, nuanced Radames, delivered with ringing tone and commitment. He belts out the final moments of his opening aria, but thereafter gently repeats the phrase an octave lower–one of Verdi’s accepted alternatives. Later in the opera, and particularly in the final act, he sings with great sensitivity and true pianissimos. But enough about him.
As usual with productions by Franco Zeffirelli, the sets are louder and almost more important than the music. They are also exquisite. Mostly in golds and blues, they are lavish but suitable to a magnificent court. The Nile Scene, just as grand but happily less fussy, is ravishing in its evocation of night and mystery. Each of the four sets has layers of detail the viewer can bask in. There are invariably too many people on stage and Zeffirelli adds a lovely, graceful, but unexplained female priestess or goddess to all the proceedings; she wafts in and out beautifully but meaninglessly. Is she observing? Is she fate? Is she in the way? And the filming of the opera (irritatingly) includes fog, misty chiffon-like fabrics, and shots of geometric forms, often superimposed on the singers and action. Since he is never one to leave well enough alone, I can only assume this also is Zeffirelli’s doing.
Aside from the quite good Roberto Alagna, the production stars Violeta Urmana as Aida. Her reading is not subtle but it is effective, with rock-solid top notes and an impressive sound from top to bottom. Like the production itself, Urmana offers no new insights into the character, but she offers a grand-scaled performance hampered only by close-ups that reveal a certain sameness of emotion. The truly good news is that she is the real thing–a Verdi soprano.
Ildiko Komlosi as Amneris looks regal and carries herself well, and while she hardly erases memories of Simionato, Cossotto, or Zajick, she does muster the power to thrill during the judgment scene. Amonasro is the baritone Carlo Guelfi, recently bland at the Met as Iago and even more-so in this production, singing without nuance and with a somewhat pinched tone. Giorgio Giuseppini’s Ramfis has authority, as does Marco Spotti’s King. The corps de ballet and chorus look and sound superb.
Riccardo Chailly leads a performance worthy of Zeffirelli’s grandeur and La Scala’s audience, which implies both its excitement and a lack of sensitivity. The brass is often too loud and tempos are designed for thrills rather than the unfolding of the drama, which, aside from the Triumphal Scene and Temple Scene, is truly intimate. But if it’s a grand, old-fashioned, knock-’em-dead Aida you’re looking for, this will please you, though not as much as the Met’s 1989 video on DG, starring Aprile Millo, Domingo, Milnes, and Zajick.
