English National Opera’s new production of Aida is the work of Phelim McDermott, whose previous stagings for the company include Philip Glass’s operas Satyagraha and Akhnaten, the latter, like Aida, set in ancient Egypt. McDermott’s intention is to preserve the essential air of mystery or otherness that surrounds Verdi’s tragedy while examining its seriousness of purpose and darker implications: the nature of theocracy; the relationship between desire and obsession; and the inevitability of betrayal when war forces its casualties to choose between lovers and family. He does so, however, in ways that don’t always ideally cohere.
His Egypt is a decadent place that half hides its violence behind a veneer of civilised glamour. The columns and monoliths of Tom Pye’s set derive from hieroglyphs from the Egyptian Book of the Dead, but Kevin Pollard’s costumes range backwards and forwards between antiquity and the present day, allowing McDermott to draw continuous parallels between the ancient world and our own. The priests wear greatcoats and totemic animal headdresses. Gwyn Hughes Jones’s Radamès, looking like a Napoleonic general, is subjected to a primitive initiation ritual in the temple of Phta, before leading his troops off to a modern-day conflict. The triumph scene is a solemn procession of flag-draped coffins, observed by a smart-looking crowd in 1930s evening wear. All this leads to an occasionally bewildering first half, and it is not until after the interval that the production begins to settle. The third act has remarkable tautness and intensity, though McDermott weakens the tension of the judgment scene by having Hughes Jones tried in full view of Michelle DeYoung’s Amneris rather than offstage.
![‘A decadent place that hides its violence behind a veneer of civilised glamour.’](http://web.archive.org./web/20171006095222im_/https://i.guim.co.uk/img/media/1215c833389dd44f997907e658f3a013d7f0be4e/116_0_4624_2775/master/4624.jpg?w=300&q=55&auto=format&usm=12&fit=max&s=290b4d22e8638d39860448d16141bb92)
There are some musical unevennesses as well, though the evening is blessed by a remarkable central performance from the American soprano Latonia Moore in the title role. This is a remarkable voice, wonderful in its amplitude at full throttle, yet also capable of sustaining beautiful, rapt pianissimos. She’s a superb actor, too, registering every shift of Aida’s torment as the conflicting demands of her father and lover, implacable enemies in war, tear her psychologically in two. This is one of the finest performances of the role to be heard in London for many years.
Hughes Jones makes a strong Radamès, though it took a few minutes on opening night for his voice to settle. There was, however, some finely shaded singing in his duets with Moore, and a real edge of defiance in his confrontation with DeYoung. Her once beautiful mezzo sadly sounded frayed on opening night, and her singing undercharacterised, lacking the requisite menace and ire, though dramatically she wasn’t helped by a series of unflattering costumes that restricted her movements.
Musa Ngqungwana’s sonorous-sounding Amonasro might have been a bit more threatening. Matthew Best’s King, presidential in McDermott’s concept, exuded hauteur. Robert Winslade Anderson was the sinister Ramfis.
Canadian conductor Keri-Lynn Wilson propelled the score forward with considerable passion. There were a couple of awkward moments of stage-pit coordination on opening night, which should sort themselves during the run.
•At London Coliseum until 2 December. Box office: 020-7845 9300.
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