Opera of Cruelty
Publication: Time Out magazine
Publisher: Time Out London.
Frequency: Weekly
Format: Occasional reviews whilst depping for Classical Music Editor
Section: Classical Music
Whilst nobody would say that bricking up people alive is exactly a nice thing to do, what Robert Wilson did to Verdi’s Aida was equally cruel.
Verdi’s intense story of passion verses patriotism is all about grand gestures; being a hero, saving the country, loving your enemy’s offspring, the usual. Wilson’s style of No theatre inspired hand gestures and languid movements turned it into beginner’s night at your local Thai Chi class.
Wilson’s biggest gripe is with the ‘show-off’ style of opera singing, yet he panders to every diva’s dream; centre stage, facing front, in a spotlight, singing flat out. Add chalky white make-up, and emotive voices were pitched against facial blandness. Bland won.
Ildiko Komlosi’s Amneris was every inch a woman scorned; jealous, spiteful, dangerous. Norma Fantini’s Aida, however, was shrill, tormented and unlovable, with some ear-jarring undersinging at the top and unpleasant gargoyle facial expressions.
Best of all was Mark S Doss’s vengeful Amonasro; powerful and imposing, a face you had to watch, a voice of raw authority and whose hands paled into insignificance when he sung.
One audience member hated it so much he booed at the interval, but the rest of us did the British thing, stuck it to the end to politely applaud some great playing, and some good singing. Wilson’s directing style certainly makes you think, but only for about ten minutes. The rest is just a long haul in the gloom, like the entombed Radames and Aida. Rather them than me.
© Copyright Kirsty Young. All rights reserved.
Review of “Aida” at The Royal Opera House Covent Garden, Tuesday 11 November 2003. Published in Time Out London issue November 19-26 2003.
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Publisher: Time Out London.
Frequency: Weekly
Format: Occasional reviews whilst depping for Classical Music Editor
Section: Classical Music
Whilst nobody would say that bricking up people alive is exactly a nice thing to do, what Robert Wilson did to Verdi’s Aida was equally cruel.
Verdi’s intense story of passion verses patriotism is all about grand gestures; being a hero, saving the country, loving your enemy’s offspring, the usual. Wilson’s style of No theatre inspired hand gestures and languid movements turned it into beginner’s night at your local Thai Chi class.
Wilson’s biggest gripe is with the ‘show-off’ style of opera singing, yet he panders to every diva’s dream; centre stage, facing front, in a spotlight, singing flat out. Add chalky white make-up, and emotive voices were pitched against facial blandness. Bland won.
Ildiko Komlosi’s Amneris was every inch a woman scorned; jealous, spiteful, dangerous. Norma Fantini’s Aida, however, was shrill, tormented and unlovable, with some ear-jarring undersinging at the top and unpleasant gargoyle facial expressions.
Best of all was Mark S Doss’s vengeful Amonasro; powerful and imposing, a face you had to watch, a voice of raw authority and whose hands paled into insignificance when he sung.
One audience member hated it so much he booed at the interval, but the rest of us did the British thing, stuck it to the end to politely applaud some great playing, and some good singing. Wilson’s directing style certainly makes you think, but only for about ten minutes. The rest is just a long haul in the gloom, like the entombed Radames and Aida. Rather them than me.
© Copyright Kirsty Young. All rights reserved.
Review of “Aida” at The Royal Opera House Covent Garden, Tuesday 11 November 2003. Published in Time Out London issue November 19-26 2003.
return to Sample Articles page
