Anyone remember my old opera thread

[Boris Godunov]

This is the autumn (fall) selection at the WMC:


Fidelio – Beethoven’s only opera

The Magic Flute – Mozart

Ariadne auf Naxos – R. Strauss


Which would you recommend and why?

Fidelio, because it's Beethoven, it's more rare to see of a production of that than Flute and it won't be as musically daunting as the Strauss, which is heavy stuff.

I love the music of Flute, but the plot is ridiculous crap.

[Boris Godunov]

I believe the principal distinction is that pretty much all the parts in opera are sung, not spoken. Also, more classical styling. I'm not a big fan of opera, but then I've never seen or heard it, really, and I can respect it. I cannot and will not respect musicals, largely because of the sudden, jarring breaks between spoken parts and songs. Also, all the musical bits I've heard have been frothy little pop-trash earworms. "TELL me, was there ever a KITTY-CAT so clever as..." :vomit:

Eh, several of the great operas aren't through-composed, chief among them being Carmen (although there is a version where all the dialogue has been converted to sung music). A couple of Mozart operas, The Magic Flute and The Abduction from the Seraglio, are what the Germans call singspieles and also have spoken dialogue instead of recitative. And of course, there are operettas. So that's not really the distinction.

The real difference, as you note, is in the style and quality of the composition of the music. Musicals essentially feature pop music (especially these days), while operas are considered art music.

[Boris Godunov]

West Side Story was good.

This may be the closest a musical comes to being an opera in terms of the quality of the music. It's wonderful, because Lenny was a genius.

Edit: and Sweeney Todd. Not the Tim Burton movie, though.

[Boris Godunov]

Very interesting, Boris. And I was under the impression that Carmen wasn't well regarded by opera buffs. When Nietzsche claimed that he preferred Bizet to Wagner, some of his Wagnerian buddies assumed he was kidding.

That seems more like a filosofyr's attitude than an opera buff. I remember Agathon dismissing Carmen, which just proved what an opera poseur he was.

[Al B. Sure!]

The real difference, as you note, is in the style and quality of the composition of the music. Musicals essentially feature pop music (especially these days), while operas are considered art music.

Boris, Mozart was pop music at one time Most of the 'art music' operas were pop in their heyday

[Boris Godunov]

Boris, Mozart was pop music at one time Most of the 'art music' operas were pop in their heyday

That's a gross oversimplification.

Bach's music certainly wasn't "pop" (oh I see you've DanSed that! . As for Mozart and others, there's a difference between "writing music that's popular" and "pop music." The "pop music" of the 17th and 18th century would be folk ballads and the like, which were not the same type of stuff put out by "serious" composers.

[Boris Godunov]

And now an interlude for your amusement:

[Al B. Sure!]

Wow that was awful.

[Asher]

Which Opera would be most like the music from Requiem for a Dream?

[Boris Godunov]

Wow that was awful.

Everyone has their off nights.

[Boris Godunov]

2. Tosca

Tosca (1900)

Opera in 3 acts by Giacomo Puccinii (1858-1924)

There's a reason that Tosca is the single most-performed opera in the world most years: it's awesome. It features a gripping plot that starts off with a bang and rarely ever pauses for breath. Puccini's score drives the drama along at a clip and leads us inexorably towards the story's conclusion.

One influential critic at the time of the premier did refer to it as a “shabby little shocker.” It's certainly violent, and has a good deal of lust and passion. But it's definitely not “shabby,” as the music is among the finest Puccini ever wrote.

Dramatis Personae:

Floria Tosca, an opera singer........................................ Soprano
Mario Cavaradossi, a painter and lover of Tosca............... Tenor
Baron Scarpia, head of the Roman police......................... Baritone
The Sacristan of the Sant'Andrea della Valle church.......... Bass
Cesare Angelotti, an escaped political prisoner................. Bass
Spoletta, a police agent............................................. .. Tenor
Sciarrone, Scarpia's servant.......................................... Bass
A Jailer.................................................. .................... Bass
A shepherd.................................................. .............. Soprano or boy soprano

Chorus of choir boys, citizens, police agents

Setting: Rome, Italy, 1800.

ACT I

There's no overture, we're thrust right into the action with the brass blaring out the four ominous chords that represent the evil of Scarpia**.



The curtain rises in the Sant'Andrea della Valle church where a desperate figure enters, searching anxiously. He is Cesare Angelotti, former head of the Roman Republic and he's just escaped from prison. He looks near the Attavanti chapel and finds a hidden key. With it, he is able to unlock the gate of the chapel and shut himself inside.

The Sacristan enters, singing to himself. He notices an untouched food basket left near an unfinished painting of the Virgin Mary and decides he will indulge himself later. The painter, Mario Cavaradossi, enters and resumes his work. In a splendid solo ("Recondita armonia"***), he muses that the Mary in his painting is no match in beauty for his beloved Tosca, while the crabby Sacristan mutters complaints under his breath before departing.



The chapel door opens and Angelotti reveals himself. The painter, himself a Republican sympathizer, recognizes Angelotti and vows to help him. The voice of Tosca is heard calling for Mario, and Angelotti resumes hiding in the chapel after Mario gives him his basket of food.

Tosca enters, immediately suspicious since she heard him speaking with someone but no one is there. Mario dismisses her jealousy and they embark on a lovely duet, anticipating spending the evening together at Mario's villa ("Non la sospiri, la nostra casetta"**) Tosca notices the painting and declares that she is jealous of how pretty the Madonna is. Mario says that his inspiration was merely the Marchesa Attavanti, who visits the family chapel daily. He ushers Tosca out so he can finish his work, but not before she asks him to darken the color of Mary's eyes to match her own.

Mario retrieves Angelotti from the chapel. Angelotti says that the Marchesa is his sister, and she visited the chapel to arrange leaving the key and a disguise to aid Angelotti in his escape from the clutches of the vile Baron Scarpia. Mario recoils at the name and promises to help Angelotti flee by offering to hide him at his villa.

A cannon booms in the distance, and they know it's the signal that the prison has discovered Angelotti's escape. They hurry out, but not before Mario mentions a secret hiding place halfway down an old well in his garden, should it be necessary.

The Sacristan returns, brimming with joyous news, only to find the sacristy empty. He is soon joined by a rowdy group of choir boys and informs them of the tidings: the Italian army under General Melas has defeated Napoleon Bonaparte at Morengo! There will be a celebration that night, capped by a Te Deum sung by Floria Tosca. The assembled group erupts in laughter and sing joyously.**



BUM-BUM-BUM-BUUUUUM!*** The orchestra thunders out Scarpia's theme, and like an apparition he is in their midst, flanked by his odious henchmen. What's with all this shouting in Church? he sneers. The celebrants scatter as Scarpia detains the Sacristan for questioning. He orders his men to secure all the exits to the church and then turns his attention to the hapless Sacristan, informing him that a prisoner has just escaped and apparently fled to that very Church. Where is the Attavanti chapel? The Sacristan points it out, and they discover it is unlocked.

Scarpia enters the chapel and finds a precious clue has been left behind, which Scarpia brandishes: a lady's fan! He surmises it belongs to Angelotti's accomplice and opens it, revealing the Attavanti crest, which is also above the chapel gate. Scarpia notices the unfinished painting of the Madonna, and immediately recognizes the face as that of the Marchesa. The Sacristan stutters that the painter is Mario Cavaradossi. Aha, says Scarpia, the lover of Tosca and a man with known revolutionary sympathies!

An agent enters, indicating to Scarpia that someone is coming. He suspects it's Tosca, dismisses his men and hides himself, proclaiming that while Iago had a handkerchief to work his mischief, he has a lady's fan. Tosca enters, calling for Mario, and the Sacristan tells her that the painter has vanished as he himself exits.

Scarpia reveals himself, unctuously offering Tosca holy water. Here begins a great scene in which he plays off of the woman's jealousy masterfully***. After flattering Tosca for her piety, Scarpia produces the fan and claims he found up on the scaffolding around the painting. Tosca recognizes the Attavanti crest with fury, while Scarpia muses to himself that his “poison” is working perfectly. Tosca bemoans the apparent betrayal and then swears an oath that she won't give up her man easily. Scarpia feigns shock at the outburst, but Tosca says the Holy Virgin will forgive her when she sees how much she is crying. Scarpia escorts her gallantly to the exit.

Scarpia summons his henchman Spoletta and instructs him to follow Tosca wherever she goes. As churchgoers begin to fill the church for a service, Scarpia gloats about his plan: to see Cavarodossi executed for treason, while having Tosca for himself as a lover! (“Va, Tosca!”****)



His hideous proclamation of his lust for Tosca is sung over the holy chanting of the crowd. As the chorus climaxes, he exclaims “Tosca, you make me forget God!” The curtain comes down as his malevolent theme once again crashes out.

ACT II

Scarpia's lavish apartments. He sits at his dining table and anticipates the pleasures that await him with Tosca. He instructs his butler Sciarrone to summon Tosca to him after her performance that evening, and then launches into a solo in which he declares his love for the most hedonistic pleasures of life (“Ha, piu forte sapore”**).

Spoletta arrives to give report he found no sign of Angelotti at the villa. Scarpia furiously says he'll see him hang for his failure. The terrified Spoletta offers a consolation prize: he arrested the painter, who is outside. That's better, says Scarpia, who orders the prisoner brought to him.

Mario is ushered in, angrily denouncing the force with which he was brought to the palace. Scarpia smoothly attempts to interrogate Mario, but the painter is defiant, denying any knowledge of Angelotti, and even laughing off the situation. Scarpia ominously tells him that tears would be more appropriate.

Tosca enters hurriedly. With great dramatic flair, Scarpia tells Mario that a “judge” is waiting for his “testimony” in the next room. Sciarrone and the other lackeys drag the painter out, with instructions from Scarpia to start with the “usual,” and then await his orders.



Ever the picture of hospitality, Scarpia entreats Tosca to speak with him as a friend**. Did she find Attavanti with Mario at the villa? No, says Tosca, he was alone. Alone? Really? Yes, says Tosca, really! Her annoyance is a clue for Scarpia. What says the prisoner, Sciarrone? Nothing? Well, be more insistent!

This is pointless, says Tosca. Do you want me to lie? So begins the incredibly tense torture scene***. Scarpia tells her that Mario's hands and feet are bound, and his head enclosed in a device that tightens screws into his skull, causing blood to gush with his every denial. Tosca is horrified but disbelieving until a hideous scream comes from the other room. Stop it! she shouts. She talks to Mario through the door, and he tells her to keep her mouth shut, as he can handle anything they dish out.

Speak to me, Tosca, says Scarpia (“Orsu, Tosca, parlate”***). She sullenly says she knows nothing. Very well, he says, we resume the procedure! Tosca screams at Scarpia that he's a cruel monster who will kill Mario. He laughingly replies that it's her silence that will kill him. As the painter shrieks out in pain, Scarpia shouts to push harder, while Tosca nears the breaking point.

Another scream is all it takes. Tosca tells him about the garden well hiding spot. Satisfied, Scarpia orders that Mario be brought back into the room. The painter's clothes are in tatters and he is covered in blood. Scarpia orders Spoletta to search the garden well at the villa, and Mario curses Tosca for her betrayal. A panicked Sciarrone enters. It seems the earlier reports from Morengo were premature: Napoleon has won the battle! Mario rises and exults: victory! (“Vittoria! Vittoria!”***).



His triumphal rant is all the excuse Scarpia needs. He orders the painter dragged off to prison for execution as Tosca wails in grief.

Now alone with Tosca, Scarpia again plays the gentleman, stating he's certain they can find a way to save Mario. Tosca contemptuously asks him his price, which ellicits hearty laughter. Money? No, he can't be bought for something as low as money (“Gia, mi dicon venal”**).



Ever since he laid eyes on Tosca, he's only wanted one thing: her! He pursues the horrified Tosca around the room, proclaiming that she will be his. A snare drum in the distance indicates that Mario has arrived at the prison, and he tells Tosca that his life is in her hands.

Tosca sinks in despair, and then raises her eyes to Heaven (“Vissi d'arte, vissi d'amore”****).



In the opera's best-known aria, she prays: I've only lived for my art, for love. I've given to the poor, prayed daily, lived a pious life. So why am I repaid like this? It's a stunning aria, heartfelt and heartbreaking.

Scarpia does not relent, and Tosca rebuffs him again. Spoletta enters. He informs Scarpia that Angelotti killed himself when they found him, and that all is set for Cavaradossi's execution. Scarpia gives Tosca one last chance... and she nods of her head "yes." The delighted baron orders Spoletta to arrange a pretend execution for the prisoner using fake bullets, as he can't just let him go. Do it just like we did Count Palmieri, Scarpia instructs with a wink, and sends Spoletta away.



I've kept my promise! he says to Tosca, practically leaping out of his pants. Not so fast, she says—first she wants a safe conduct pass so she and Mario can vamoose. No problem, says Scarpia, wait just a second. As he writes up the pass, Tosca goes to the dinner table to gulp some wine...and notices a sharp fruit knife lying on the table, which she picks up and conceals.

Scarpia rushes to Tosca with open arms, exclaiming, “Tosca, finally you are mine!” Tosca drives the knife into Scarpia's chest, shouting “Here is Tosca's kiss!”**** Scarpia bellows in agony, cursing Tosca and crying out for help. Choke on your own blood! screams Tosca. Scarpia collapses and crawls around on the floor as she exhorts him to die and be damned. He does so.

“He's dead. Now I forgive him!” Tosca searches for the safe conduct pass, only to have to pry it from Scarpia's dead hand. She muses over his corpse: “And before him all of Rome trembled.” She prepares to leave, only to pause and pick up two lit candles, which she places on either side of the body as the orchestra plays Scarpia's theme in hushed, somber tones. The distant snare drum sounds again, prompting her to exit the room, and the curtain falls.

ACT III

The rooftop prison of the Castel Sant'Angelo, near dawn. There's a long orchestral introduction to the scene that precedes the distant sound of a shepherd boy singing**. Mario is led in by guards. The jailer offers him last rites from a priest, but Mario declines, instead giving the jailer a ring in exchange for pen, paper and time to write a farewell letter to his beloved.

Alone with his thoughts, Mario pours out his grief in one of Puccini's greatest tenor arias (“E lucevan le stelle”****).



He recalls how brightly the stars would shine when he was with Tosca. Her kisses, her carresses... but now he will die without hope, his dream of love destroyed. Never has he loved life more!

The orchestra swells with hope, however, as Tosca is admitted to the jail, to Mario's astonishment. She shows him the safe conduct passage, and when asked at what price, she relates her murder of Scarpia. Tosca then explains the fake execution. They sing a romantic duet (“Amaro sol per te m'era il morire”**) that climaxes with their voices joining in unison, declaring the triumph of their love over death.

The firing squad enters. Tosca whispers acting instructions to Mario, telling him to remain perfectly still until she gives him the word. The riflemen level their weapons and fire. Mario drops to the ground, and Tosca impatiently waits as the captain throws a sheet over Mario and the squad exits. Once they're gone, Tosca tells Mario to get up so they can flee (“Presto, su! Mario!”***).



There's no response, and when she removes the sheet from Mario she shrieks in horror: the bullets were real, he is dead.

An outcry of voices is heard offstage. Spoletta, Sciarrone and other agents rush onto the roof and block the exits. Spoletta tells Tosca she will pay for Scarpia's murder. Tosca eludes the agents by climbing on top of the parapet of the castle wall.

Tosca cries out, “Oh Scarpia... avanti a Dio!” and flings herself from the parapet as the agents look on in shock and the orchestra wails out with the theme of Mario's despair.

Recommended Recording:

EMI: Victor de Sabata conducting the Orchestra of La Scala. Featuring Maria Callas, Giuseppi di Stefano, Tito Gobbi.

Next up: Verdi in da Nile.

[Boris Godunov]

3. Aida

Aida (1871)

Opera in 4 acts by Giuseppi Verdi (1813-1901)

In the opera thread I posted years ago, I believe the first Verdi opera I recommended was Rigoletto, not Aida. This was partly because I had recently been in a production of that opera so it was fresh in my mind, and partly because I believed the grandosity of Aida made it too big a work for all but the largest of opera houses. But really, Aida wins hands down over the earlier Rigoletto, as Verdi's maturity as a composer elevates the later work. It is simply the grandest of all Grand Opera, a style that Verdi himself pretty much created.

By 1871, Verdi was the undisputed master of opera in Europe, and he had already begun moving away from the old recitative/set piece dynamic towards more fluid, continuous music drama. While he wouldn't fully embrace that change until his last operas, Otello and Falstaff, in Aida we still see a significant difference. He was commissioned to write the work by the khedive of Egypt, which explains the opera's setting, but in truth, the Egyptian theme is almost incidental. It is a thoroughly Italian opera, in style and music.

Dramatis Personae:

Aida, an Ethiopian princess enslaved by Egypt............. Soprano
Radames, Egyptian officer and secret lover of Aida....... Tenor
Amneris, daughter of the Pharoah.............................. Mezzo-Soprano
Ramfis, High Priest of Phtah...................................... Bass
Amonasro, king of Ethiopa and Aida's father................. Baritone
Pharoah.................................................. .............. Bass
High Priestess of Isis.............................................. ..Soprano
A messenger.................................................. ........ Tenor

Chorus of Egyptian people, priests, priestesses, soldiers, slaves, captives

Setting: Thebes, Ancient Egypt

ACT I

Scene 1: There is only a brief, quiet prelude (unusual for Verdi, who typically composed full overtures) before the curtain rises on a great hall in the palace of the Egyptian Pharoah. High Priest Ramfis informs Radames that war with Ethiopa appears to be certain, and the priests will soon consult the gods to determine who will lead the Egyptians into glorious battle. Radames hopes to himself that he is chosen for the task, as returning victorious would allow him to ask for the right to marry Aida, who is a slave of Pharoah's daughter. Verdi gives the tenor the unenviable job of singing his big solo aria within the first five minutes of the opera (“Celeste Aida”***).



And it's definitely a great aria. Heavenly Aida, he muses, is the girl for him, she's so lovely, etc. He has to sing a high B at the end of the aria that changes from loud to soft, which is not an easy task for even the best of tenors (and most ignore the dynamics and just sing it loud).

In comes Amneris, who has a secret crush on hunky Radames. She remarks that he's looking particularly ebullient that day, and wonders if it's because he's smitten with a woman (hint, hint). Radames, being a little slow, fears that Amneris means that she's aware of his romance with her slave, Aida. It just so happens that Aida comes strolling by, upset over news about the impending war (neither Radames nor Amneris know she is the daughter of the Ethiopian king). Radames' reaction to Aida clues in Amneris that he's really interested in the Ethiopian tart instead of her. Amneris fumes while Aida mopes and Radames realizes he could be in big trouble. A terrific trio***.

A fanfare announces the Pharoah, who enters with Ramfis and other courtiers, ministers and priests in tow. Pharoah receives a messenger, who relates that the vile Ethiopians have invaded Egyptian lands once again and are causing all sorts of mischief. They are led by the wicked Amonasro (Aida gasps—her dad!) and seek revenge for their defeat at the hands of the Egyptians years before. Pharoah announces that Isis has decided who shall lead the Egyptians in war: Radames! Oh joy, says Radames, while Aida sobs to herself in grief. Pharoah then embarks a glorious war ditty to rouse his people to action (“Su! del Nilo, saccro lido”****).



Up and at them! Says Pharoah. Yes, chimes in Ramfis, and the gods will grant us favor. The chorus take's up Pharoah's tune, and then Radames and Aida each voice their thoughts, Amneris adds her own bit, presenting the battle standard to Radames. Everyone bursts out into song at once, and it ends with great cries of “War!” and “Return victorious!” A knockout ensemble number.

All exit except Aida, who begins her first big solo of the opera with the very same words just shouted by the Egyptian crowd, although she says it with self-loathing (“Ritorna vincitor!**). Did she really shout out those words for an Egyptian to be victorious over her own father? Her own brothers? Let Egypt's armies be shattered. But wait, what about love? Is she supposed to forget the man she adores and hope for his defeat? Has anyone suffered like her? She wishes for death...

Scene 2: Nighttime inside the Temple of Vulcan. Priestesses sing an invocation to Phtah offstage while the priests chant softly on stage**. Ramfis summons Radames to the altar and bestows on him the sacred weapons for his upcoming battle. The priest then turns to the statue of the god and asks for divine protection for Egypt (“Nume, custode vindice”***).



Ramfis sings an elegant, somber melody, which is then echoed by Radames as the priest sings a countermelody in the bass. The priests then join in, the pace of the music quickens and soon it has crescendoed into a magnificent choral ensemble that closes out the act.

ACT II

Scene 1: The boudoir of Amneris. Egypt has defeated Ethiopa, and a great triumph is planned for that day. Amneris is preparing for the festivities while a chorus of slave girls sing and enchanting melody and Moorish slave boys dance for her***.

Aida enters, and Amneris engages in trickery to learn the truth: she informs Aida that while Egypt was victorious, Radames was killed by the Ethiopians. Aida cries out in grief, and it's all the confirmation Amneris needs: you love him! Yes, admits the grief-stricken Aida, she does. Well he's not dead, says Amneris, I lied to get you to confess it. How dare a lowly slave think she can compete with the Pharoah's daughter! Aida, incensed, almost spills the beans about her own royal heritage, but checks herself just in time. Anmeris' wrath is averted only because she must attend the triumph, and she orders Aida to follow and attend her at her feet**.

Scene 2: The Triumphal March. This entire scene gets ****, as it's one of the greatest in all opera. At the city gates all of Thebes is on hand to cheer the arrival of the victorious Egyptian forces with thunderous, wonderful music. Glory to Egypt! They shout ("Gloria all'Egitto"). There is a long orchestral march section for the processional, the beginning of which is one of the most famous tunes from any opera.



The crowd lets out another burst of mighty praise when Radames finally appears. Pharoah descends from his throne, embraces Radames and says he may ask any boon of him in reward for his victory. Radames orders the Ethiopian prisoners of war brought forth, and Aida calls out in shock—her father is among them! She embraces Amonasro, but he whispers for her to not give away that he is the king. Amonasro then tells Pharoah that the Ethiopian king was slain in the battle and urges him to spare the lives of the prisoners. Ramfis and the priests, however, say they should all be put to death.

Moved by Aida's display of love for her father, Radames requests his boon from Pharoah: not only should you spare their lives, but I ask that you let them go home. Ramfis protests: if they are freed, they'll take up arms against us! No, says Radames, since their king is dead, they are no threat. Ramfis says they should at least keep Aida's father as a hostage, and so Pharoah finally agrees: all will be freed accept Amonasro, who will remain in Thebes.

But Pharoah has a surprise boon for Radames. He gives the young hero his own daughter, Amneris, in marriage! The crowd erupts in cheers and the scene closes with another mighty ensemble: Amneris gloats, Radames and Aida bemoan, Amonasro plots vengeance while Pharoah, Ramfis and everyone else sings to the glory of Egypt. Stupendous!



ACT III

A moonlit night outside the Temple of Isis on the banks of the Nile. Amneris and Ramfis arrive by boat to pray on the eve of the wedding and enter the temple. Aida is left outside, but she is waiting for her father, who has asked to meet secretly with her.

After Aida sings a long and not-very-interesting solo stating her nostalgia for Ethiopia, Amonasro makes his appearance. He says he can tell that Aida loves Radames, so he has an offer: Radames will show up any moment to go to the temple. Intercept him and convince him to flee back to Ethiopia so you two can get hitched. Oh, and get him to reveal the movements of the Egyptian army so the back up forces I have can surprise and destroy them, giving us revenge! Aida resists at first, but Amonasro lays on the patriotism and paternal guilt pretty thick, so she agrees to try.

Radames enters and begins a lengthy duet with Aida**. He professes his love for Aida, but she notes how he's about to marry Amneris. Not so fast, he says, I've got a plan: Ethiopia is still causing problems, and I still command the army. I'm going to go whup them again, and my boon for that victory will be to marry you! That's nuts, says Aida, as Amneris will go ape**** and probably kill me. Here's a better idea: run away with me back to my country where we can be free and happy! Abandon my homeland? Says Radames. No way! Then, says Aida, you don't love me! Go marry Amneris! Wait, wait, he says. Now that I think about it... Ok, fine, let's go. Terrific, says Aida, only one thing: where's the Egyptian army? We want to make sure they don't catch us! Oh right, says Radames. The army won't be in the Napata Gorges until tomorrow, so we can--

Aha, gotcha! shouts Amonasro, emerging from hiding. He reveals to the surprised Radames that he's not only Aida's dad, but Ethiopia's king! He will ambush the Ethiopians. Horror of horrors, wails Radames, I've sold out my country! Yeah, says Amonasro, so you'd better come with us, and I'll make you prince once you marry my daughter.

Too late! Amneris and Ramfis emerge from the Temple with guards, having heard everything and calling Radames a traitor. Amonasro draws a knife and tries to stab Amneris, but Radames stops him. Amonasro then grabs Aida and flees while Radames surrenders to Ramfis and his men.

ACT IV

Scene 1: Amneris waits outside the the judgment chamber within the palace. In a dramatic solo, she expresses her conflict. On the one hand Radames seems a traitor, but she definitely loves him and can't bear the thought of his being put to death. (“L'aborrita rivale a me sfuggia”**).

Radames is brought by in chains. Amneris detains him and they begin a terrific, emotional duet (“Gia I sacredoti adunasi”***). She asks Radames to throw himself on the mercy of the court for his betrayal and she would, in turn, beg at the feet of her father for a pardon. I can't do that, says Radames, I'm too proud. I didn't mean to betray us, but I did, so there. Well, says Amneris, if you didn't mean it, say so and maybe they'll go easy! No, says Radames, I won't say a word and go to my death because my dear Aida is dead (he assumes, for some reason). An irked Amneris tells him no, only her father was killed trying to escape, Aida herself vanished. Oh, says Radames, that's good, but I'm going to die anyway, I just hope she doesn't blame herself. Ok, says Amneris, I'm bloody sick of your mooning over Aida. Here's the deal: say you'll love me and forget her, and I'll make sure all this goes away. Nothing doing, says Radames, I only love Aida. Fine then, says Amneris go and get executed, see if I care!

The guards drag Radames off to the judgment chamber for his trial, and Amneris gets another solo (“Ahime! Morir mi sento!”**). She expresses regret for ever being involved with the capture of Radames. Ramfis and the priests cross the hall and enter the judgment chamber, and she notes how they are like phantoms that frighten her.

The trial***. Offstage, Ramfis calls out Radames' name and states a charge, demanding he defend himself. But Radames is silent, and the priests shout “traitor!” This happens three times, and each time Amneris bursts out a lamenting cry for the gods to have pity. After the third charge is read, the priests pronounce Radames guilty and sentence him to die by entombment. Amneris reacts in horror.



The priests ascend from the chamber, and she assails them for their implacable cruelty. Ramfis et al continue to chant that Radames is a traitor and he deserves death. The scene ends with a mighty, despairing curse upon the priests from Amneris.

Scene 2: A split stage. Above is the temple interior, and below is the vault where Radames is to be entombed. We see him descend the steps into the vault as the stone is sealed into place behind him. Woe is me, he says, I'm going to die alone in here, and won't ever see my Aida again! Wait, what's that noise? He searches in the dark, feels another person and pulls them into the dim light of his torch... it's Aida! What the hell are you doing here? he asks. She explains that she learned of his sentence and snuck into the vault unseen so she could die with him. Oh no, it can't be, says Radames. Not only am I to die, but I've killed you, too! Nonsense, says an almost-delirious Aida, we'll soon be in paradise together, forever!

Above, the priests begin to chant a prayer. Aida and Radames embark on their final, lovely duet, bidding farewell to the earth (“O terra addio”***).



Farewell, this mortal world of tears, we're off to be together in heaven forever. Amneris appears above, dressed in mourning. She somberly impores Isis to grant eternal rest to her beloved Radames. The opera ends quietly as Aida and Radame's voices fade out and the priests continue to chant their prayers to Phtah.

Recommended Recording:

RCA Victor - Jonel Perlea conducts the Rome Opera Orchestra. Featuring Zinka Milanov, Jussi Bjoerling, Fedora Barbieri, Boris Christoff, Leonard Warren and Plinio Clabassi.

Next up: Finally, some Mozart!

[Boris Godunov]

I seemed to have lucked out with the Carmen videos on youtube, as I was able to find videos that were 1) almost all from the same production, which was a very good one with quality singers and authentic sets/costumes 2) high resolution, 3) had English subtitles. It's going to get harder to do that for other operas, unfortunately. So like Aida, it's going to be a mishmash of various staged productions, video quality will be inconsistent and subtitles can't be guaranteed. Sorry.

[duke o' york]

Don't apologise. I loved the Aida post, and look forward to many more. Whether the quality of production is that of Pavarotti or Callas, or whatever you can find on youtube, you are providing a noble service to all 'polytubbies, and I for one am looking forward to local productions of whichever operas I can find. Who knows, I may even give The Magic Flute another try, because it has been some time since I split with she who was once known as the duchess o' york here.

Boris, I am so glad that you chose to return (but don't argue with Ben again - anyone here can tell you it's not worth the effort), and I look forward to your future posts in this thread at the very least. Sir, I'd love to attend the opera with you, a noble gent of excellent taste.

[Boris Godunov]

I appreciate your kind words, sirrah.

Aida is one of the operas I find illicits either strongly positive reaction or strongly negative ones, and not much in between. The naysayers almost always criticize the plot as facile and the characters as cardboard pastiches rather than real human beings. I have to admit: that's entirely true. Carmen and Tosca benefit from interesting, even gripping plots. Aida soars almost entirely on its music and stage spectacle. But that's what makes it so great: despite the weak plot and characters, it is simply one of the most enjoyable evenings you'd experience at the opera (as long as you see it a house that can pull off the stagecraft and obtain quality singers).