Piotr Beczała redeems himself with his stylish Radamès in Michael Mayer’s deeply traditional Met Aida

United StatesUnited States Verdi, Aida: Soloists, Chorus and Orchestra of the Metropolitan Opera, New York / Yannick Nézet-Séguin (conductor). Broadcast live from the Metropolitan Opera, New York, to Cineworld Basildon, Essex, 25.1.2025. (JPr)

Michael Mayer’s production of Aida (Act I) © Ken Howard/Met Opera

Michael Mayer’s new production failed on its New Year’s Eve opening night due to the significant illness of Piotr Beczała who soldiered (!) on as Radamès when he clearly shouldn’t have. With some changes of cast the second performance was much more successful, as witnessed by my colleague Rick Perdian (review here). The previous Aida from Sonja Frisell lasted from December 1988 to May 2023 and was recognised as the grandest of Grand Opera and as something the Met is widely renowned for. Watching online a classic performance from 2018 (review here) I wrote: ‘When first put on it replaced a planned staging by the late Franco Zeffirelli which had been deemed too expensive. I have written before about my amazement at how Zeffirelli could have possibly thrown more money – and people – on stage than we saw here. Frisell gave us horses – so perhaps Zeffirelli wanted elephants too? Anyway, if the world returns to “normal” later this year and the Met’s finances allow it to proceed with its planned 2020-2021 season, then this production has now had its day and will be superseded by Michael Mayer’s new one which promises a “grand new staging, which brings ancient Egypt to life with intricate projections and dazzling animations” … Gianni Quaranta’s huge sets gave it a three-dimensional monumentality with the large columns, imposing statuary, as well as, all the hieroglyphs and there was more than a hint of the Temple Complex of Karnak in Thebes.’

It was the aftermath of the COVID-19 pandemic which delayed this new Aida until now, but Christine Jones’s set designs are no less grand than those of the Frisell staging. Perhaps thanks to the digital projection from 59 they can be more manageable now in 2025 though there is a suggestion some of the columns from the 1988 sets have been retained by Mayer. Indeed, it can now be performed with only one interval even though we are no longer on the banks of the Nile for Act III but inside a temple with the vault – which rises up from below the stage – that Radamès will be sealed up in. Partly aided by Kevin Adams’s lighting, we see so vibrantly all the gold and – what is referred to as – Egyptian blue throughout the hieroglyphics, as well as in Susan Hilferty’s sumptuous costumes which were inspired by French archaeologist Auguste Mariette. He designed the sets and costumes for the 1871 premiere of Aida in Cairo and interestingly had also suggested the plot of the opera to Verdi.

Aida was first put on at the Met in 1886 and in fact – with just minor additions – what was seen and heard in January 2025 could have been any performance of it in the intervening almost 130 years. The singing was uniformly good but there was often minimal interaction between the singers who mostly turned and faced the audience; the infamous ‘park and bark’. However, if most acting is reacting then Gary Halvorson’s close-up camerawork revealed the singers’ faces were reflecting what they or others were singing about.

During the prelude from high above the stage sand trickles down before a (young) Indiana Jones lookalike (wearing a fedora of course) abseils down to discover a decaying artefact, an Egyptian dagger. As he shines his torch at the dusty-looking walls around him – is it a tomb or a temple? – the intricate reliefs and carvings begin to regain their original vivid colours and the opera proper begins. It possibly becomes the story of Aida, Radamès and the conflict with the Ethiopians that the small band of twenty-first century archaeologists learn about as they further explore their new find. In the pause between the first two acts, one of them – a young woman in her pith helmet – sits to the side of stage sketching. Inventively this appears on a front curtain as an animation before morphing into the Act II set which will soon be fully revealed. I found this an interesting concept that barely impinges on the rest of the opera except during the Triumphal March when the explorers carry away up some steep stairs at the back all the gold objects (treasure?) they had found. Finally, Mayer has the pharaoh’s daughter Amneris commit harakiri with the very same dagger that was discovered at the start of the opera, though no skeleton was found then.

Amneris was in love with Radamès who had to lead the Egyptian army against the Ethiopians even though he was in love with Aida, in Egypt as a slave though she was the daughter of Amonasro, the King of Ethiopia. After his successful campaign against the Ethiopians, Radamès asks for the prisoners he has brought back to be freed and amongst them is Amonasro who conceals his identity. Eventually Radamès allows him and Aida to escape leading to his downfall. Most readers will know this story, but I repeat it again because what we saw from Mayer is what you would expect to see in any deeply traditional Aida.

The good news was that in the last of his allotted performances Piotr Beczała’s voice had clearly fully recovered from his first night travails and there can rarely have been such a lyrical, stylish, yet powerful, Radamès and he gave a masterclass of control and phrasing. I am not convinced by Verdi’s ending to ‘Celeste Aida’, but Beczała’s morendo on his high B-flat was exquisite. For Angel Blue this was a company role debut as Aida, and it was often a subtly acted, affecting portrayal of doomed love. The role is technically demanding though Blue overcame any difficult passages with a practiced ease. However for me, in the most intense moments such as her heartbreaking rendition of ‘O patria mia’ – when Blue said she was thinking of her late father – her voice seemed a little too light for Aida and reminded me more of Puccini’s anguished Liù in Turandot.

[l-r] Quinn Kelsey (Amonasro), Angel Blue (Aida) and Judit Kutasi (Amneris) © Ken Howard/Met Opera

Judit Kutasi overcame a wobbly start and was as stubborn, forthright, scheming and jealous as you would expect Amneris to be. It is a role she has sung the most, though – thinking about other operas again – I imagine she is as wonderful as the sorceress Ortrud in Lohengrin as reports suggest she is. Quinn Kelsey used his eloquent, focussed baritone to superb effect as the paternal, yet highly emotionally manipulative, Amonasro notably in his tense Act III meeting with Aida. Morris Robinson was the suitably implacable Ramfis with Harold Wilson imposing as the King. The singing of the huge chorus – who mostly just stood around framing the action such as it was – was incandescent throughout. There was some odd choreography from Oleg Glushkov that should be rethought: in Act II the embroidering priestesses join together for an ‘Egyptian wave’, while the camp, gambolling bare-chested soldiers for the Act III ballet oddly engaged in some Elon Musk-style salutes.

With his excellent orchestra revealing some virtuoso solo contributions, Yannick Nézet-Séguin’s Aida had vigour, panache and, musically, was dramatically well-realised.

Jim Pritchard

Featured Image: Piotr Beczała (Radamès) © Ken Howard/Met Opera

Creatives:
Production – Michael Mayer
Set designer – Christine Jones
Costume designer – Susan Hilferty
Lighting designer – Kevin Adams
Projection design – 59
Choreographer – Oleg Glushkov
Production consultant – Stephen Pickover
Chorus master – Donald Palumbo

Cast:
Ramfis – Morris Robinson
Radamès – Piotr Beczała
Amneris – Judit Kutasi
Aida – Angel Blue
King – Harold Wilson
Amonasro – Quinn Kelsey
Messenger – Yongzhao Yu
Priestess – Amanda Batista

Live in HD director – Gary Halvorson
Live in HD host – Rhiannon Giddens

2 thoughts on “Piotr Beczała redeems himself with his stylish Radamès in Michael Mayer’s deeply traditional Met <i>Aida</i>”

  1. I saw it in our local theatre in Hereford live from the Met it was superb. It’s amazing what technology has brought to the arts particularly opera. To be able to enjoy productions like this live is just fabulous.

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  2. Agreed. Blue’s voice is wonderful to hear. ‘Voluptuous’ is a good way to describe it. It seems like a sound from the legendary Golden Age of opera that has come to treat us in the present. Her physical and vocal lurch toward Amneris, and Amneris’ response to that lurch, were revelatory. One appreciated Aida’s sense of her innate capacity to overpower Amneris, along with her ability — likely cultivated as part of her royal upbringing – to strategically check that capacity under her current captive circumstance. The impulse might set a new standard for the famous confrontation scene. Her later duet with her father was very thrilling. This and, perhaps, the men’s dance re-enacting process of war, was the high point of the evening.

    I was happy that tenor Piotr Beczała seemed to have regained much of his voice. As he warmed up, it became more and more clear why he has had such a celebrated career. No such allowances needed to be made for the baritone Quinn Kelsey playing Aida’s father. His was a secure and lovely Verdi baritone voice from his entrance to his final notes. (I would love to hear his voice as a dramatic tenor.)

    Amneris, on the other hand, did not bloom until her confrontation scene with the priests, which was thrilling. Before that her intonation was very uncomfortable to hear. Unlike Blue, she has a more traditional performance style that is less amenable to the movie theater. The style is a little more distant in expressing emotions. Thus, no matter her level of distress, there would be no Hollywood tears streaming down the face of this Amneris. That said, I am actually partial to this style acting because it is often consistent with the lack of realism in most operas. Moreover, I have come to associate this style with legendary performances of opera!

    I never before understood the role of the high priest as well as I now do thanks to this performance. The singer who played the role was physically imposing and had such a commanding true bass voice – and the acting chops to back it up – that it was the first time really took notice of the character. I understood the degree of his power and prescience in relation to the royal court. Interestingly, also, his portrayal helped me to understand the king’s willingness to compromise and his desire for peace.

    These more subtle aspects of the story (especially one narrated in a language that it foreign to me) usually gets swallowed up in the epic grandeur of monumental stagings and legendary performers. This might be one positive aspect of the new production. It is sufficiently flattened so as not to upstage the inter-personal dramas that unfold as the opera progresses. That advantage was undermined by a most annoying/frustrating interjection of twentieth-century tomb robbers into the story by an overenthusiastic director who seemed intent on leaving his mark on the opera. So much so he has the opera end with Amneris stabbing herself with a knife one of the robbers apparently discovered during the overture – such as it is – to the opera. The director seemed intent on breaking the trance that the final scene of the opera would have otherwise left on the audience. Because of these directorial choices in several recent Met productions, I am glad that I saw the performance in the theater. I am even more glad that I did not expend the money, time, and effort to see this kind of thing unfold live inside the MET.

    Jim for S&H: Thank you for these wonderful, well-considered comments and you should be a critic! I am sorry you did not give details for me to contact you directly.

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