Cast
Aida
Elena Dee
(or Galina Bernaz)

RadamesNicolae Busuioc (or Patrizio Ha or Irakli Grigali)

Amneris
Zarui Vardanean (or Nadejda Stoianova)

Amonasro
Vladimir Dragos

Ramfis
Valeriu Cojocaru

The King of Egypt
Igor Sviridov

The Messenger
Vasile Micusa
(or Anatol Arcea)

High Priestess
Olga Rusnac

The Orchestra of the Chisinau National Opera

Conductor
Gheorghe Stanciu
(or Nicolae Dohotaru or Alexandru Samoila)

Chorus Master
Oleg Constantinov

Director
Ellen Kent

Assisted by Mihai Timofti & Liz White

Set Designer
Will Bowen

You can do a duck/rabbit on opera – men and women dying forlove, gods, emperors, princesses, stately choruses, spear carriers, special effects: operatic performances continually flip between the awe-inspiring and the idiotic; both moving and ridiculous, sumptious and tawdry, hugely camp. Verdi’s Aida is typical of this extraordinary genre where the superhuman effort to coordinate so many human beings in such a variety of roles -- orchestra, singers, actors, dancers – with such an anachronistic hodgepodge of historical settings and styles, and on such a grand scale, is absurdly hubristic, but where, somehow, nemesis is part of the triumph.
     This production of Verdi’s Aida is the swansong (along with Puccini’s Turandot and Bizet’s Carmen) of Ellen Kent’s Eastern European opera company, Amphitheatre Productions, which has been touring operas all over the world for 17 years. Each of the three productions has the same set, almost eponymously a rather superb amphitheatre, which is adapted to Spain, China or ancient Egypt simply by slotting in toreadors, models of the Terracotta army, or eight foot Anubis statues. In Aida, familiar artifacts from Ancient Egypt blend with some quite startling box-shaped headdresses; small children dance, flames suddenly sprout along the footlights, and showers of gold coins are sprinkled from balconies. All great fun, including the somewhat amateur feel, with the naked joints and joists of the production thrusting through the makebelieve. In authentic opera fashion, the ludicrous mismatch between aim and execution is factored into our suspension of, and collapse into, disbelief, just as, long after they have actually been sprinkled, the feathery gold coins continue, at odd intervals, to appear in midair and and flutter onto actors’ hair and shoulders.
     The orchestra began disappointingly on the night I saw it, with wind and strings at odds, and I didn’t quite believe in Elena Dee’s Aida – her emotion was often skin-deep, confined to beautiful, stylised gestures, which put too much emphasis on superficial grace; but the chorus, whether as houris or as priests and handmaidens, were stirring and impressive, as was Zarui Vardanean as Amneris and her convincing jealousy and grief. Gradually, as the terrible conflict between loyalty and love developed, the audience were drawn into emotion, and when finally Amneris pleads with the gods on behalf of a beloved who has rejected her, the production seemed to have dovetailed into soaring intensity and power.
Jane O'Grady