Amal Choucri Catta takes issue with the Ethiopian princess's latest appearance Opera Aida by Giuseppe Verdi, with Cairo Opera Company, Cairo Opera Orchestra, Cairo Opera Choir and Cairo Opera Ballet; choir master Aldo Magnato, director Maurizio di Mattia, conductor Hirofumi Yoshida, choreographers Abdel-Moneim and Erminia Kamel. Cairo Opera House Main Hall, 22-25 June, 9pm. This season, Aida, Verdi's four-act opera, came on twice, with a rather short interval, at Cairo Opera's Main Stage. Local and foreign audiences have, in the past few years, happily enjoyed Abdalla Saad's stage management of Aida, a yearly guest at the Main Hall, where the Ethiopian princess is enslaved to the Egyptian Monarch's daughter, faithfully returning every season. This time, she was applauded on 5 and 6 February while, for the end of the season, the Cairo Opera definitely announced the return of Verdi's La Traviata, which audiences have been missing for some four years. Unfortunately, however, though mentioned in the June programme, audiences once again had to say "Adieu, Violetta", for, in the blink of an eye, the lady was banished from the programme and replaced by Aida in a new production by the Italian Maurizio di Mattia as stage manager and the Japanese Hirofumi Yoshida conducting the Cairo Opera Orchestra, introducing soprano Raffaella Battistini in the role of Aida and baritone Alfio Grasso as Amonasro, both singers were applauded on Cairo's stage last February: this time they were joined by the French tenor Piero Marin in the role of Radames. A press conference, organised around one week prior to the opening, elaborated profusely on the importance of this "unique" event. The "event" however turned out to be littered with unwelcome surprises and, on the opening night, as well as on all other nights for that matter, audiences had their first shock as the curtain rose on a truncated stage, the larger part of which had disappeared in a partly visible background, where one could catch a glimpse of a fraction of a pyramid lost in grey surroundings, together with a Pharaonic statue and the upper part of a lighted obelisk. The background remained unchanged throughout the first three acts of the opera, disappearing only in the fourth which takes place in the necropolis chosen for Radames, who was buried alive. The scene of Act One was an antechamber of the royal palace in Memphis, where Radames, the captain of Pharaoh's army asks the high-priest Ramphis whether he has consulted the sacred Isis. Clad in an adequate costume, Radames is not as gloriously elegant as he used to be in Abdalla Saad's performances, though the real shock comes with Ramphis, who wears a long, wide-sleeved black robe, with an embroidered collar as the only trimming. Gone are the rich costumes Ramphis was given in previous performances at the Opera, at the pyramids and in Luxor. No Egyptian high-priest ever wore black: Ramphis in black rather gave the impression of a poor soul in search for better days. Unfortunately, Radames and Ramphis remained in their costumes to the end of the performance. Another shock came with the advent of Aida wearing a gem-studded veil over her head and nose, covering the lower part of her face. With her came four Ethiopian slaves clad in black from head to toe, their faces totally covered, evoking the niqab. They seemed like omens of her dark destiny, following her wherever she went. But that was not all: a further shock came when the choir appeared on stage with the veiled women clad in badly-cut, simple white robes, which enhanced their obesity. No one understood the reason for their headdress, which was certainly not Pharaonic and which saddened a number of viewers who thought both niqab and hijab in bad taste for Aida. Whatever he may have achieved in Europe and elsewhere as stage manager and set designer, Maurizio di Mattia was clearly unlucky with his work as director at the Cairo Opera House, and especially with a major opera such as Aida. Mattia certainly came to Cairo with the intention of producing a beautiful work with his own esoteric vision, but it is clear that he did not have sufficient time to do an adequate job, or to consult the right people as regards bringing his ideas to life. Mattia may love Verdi, he may also love Aida, but he is surely insufficiently versed in the cults and arts of Pharaonic Egypt, otherwise he would never have veiled the ladies of the choir, nor would he have given the king such a ridiculous headdress, nor would he have used black for the high-priest's robe... The production itself was a disaster: from the very first act, Mattia used only one half or one third of the stage for the action. There was never enough space for the dancers, for the soldiers or the priests; and the high, senseless scaffolding onto which the king and Amneris had to climb were vastly inappropriate. Such was the case with the temple of Ptah, where priests and priestesses were preparing Radames for battle, ceremoniously consecrating him to the service of Ptah, while at the front of the stage the dancers had no space for their dance and the main priestess, who should have been singing behind the scenes, was placed on top of the scaffolding, with the smoke of incense rising dramatically in front of her, while singing her esoteric aria which, in this case, lost its significance. In Act Two, while they prepare Amneris for the triumphant return of Radames, the young Ethiopian slaves have no space for their dance: out front the stage was littered with two immense statues and other useless paraphernalia, and the backdrop revealed an ominous set of steps and constructions devoid of any of coordination, giving the impression of unbelievable confusion. Once against he constructions left no space for the soldiers to advance, as they had done in the good old days of Abdalla Saad's conception, which made use of the entire stage. This time, Marria had the soldiers advance in tiny groups, three at a time, while Radames has to come a-walking, for there is no space for his chariot. Neither is there space for the Ethiopian prisoners, nor the plunder. Mattia should have made better use of the stage; and seeing as Abdalla Saad's conception had always been successful, there was really no reason for such an unwelcome change. Furthermore, the lights were always low, even in the opera's rare moments of glory; the music was too loud for the singers, who had to shout in order to be heard. Iman Mustafa and Raffaella Battistini as Aida, Walid Korayem and Piero Marin as Radames, Alfio Grasso and Mustafa Mohamed as Amonasro, Jolie Faizy and Hala El Shaboury as Amneris, Reda El Wakil as Ramphis, Abdel Wahab El Sayed and Hatem El Guenedy as Pharaoh undoubtedly did their best under these most difficult circumstances. Maybe, had the Cairo Opera House opted for a new production for La Traviata it would have been better. Aida was clearly too much to cope with.
