LOVE AND WAR IN OLD EGYPT
Story Line of Verdi’s massive Opera
Sydney Morning Herald

Sydney’s Aida, the ultimate in pyramid selling

Interview with Maestro Giuseppe Raffa, artistic director and conductor of the Operama extravaganza production of Verdi’s Aida in Sydney.

“GDAY NICK” says photographer Sandy Edwards, as we wander around the labyrinth shine set of “Aida”at Sydney’s Football Stadium. “Are you in it?” Nick nods “Sure” he says, “I’m the fire eater”.
“A friend of mine” Sandy says, as we walk past rows of chairs labelled Solders I, II, II and IV. “He’s very good”. A good thing too, I think. He wouldn’t want be BAD fire-eater.
We descend on to the massive stage, still under construction, and apparently going somewhat slower than conductor, producer and artistic director Maestro Giuseppe Raffa would like. I am told he has been less than impressed by the Australian “smoko”, and is frequently to be seen bellowing at the workmen in understated Italian fashion: Why are you trying to kill my production?”
To give some idea of the scale of this particular “Aida”, we have to lapse into the promoter’s hyperbole. According to the organisers of the Operama International Opera Festival, “Aida” is the largest ever live show staged anywhere in the world. It includes eight principle artists, 800 extras, a 100 piece orchestra, a chorus of 120, tumblers, jugglers and ballet dancers. Not to mention elephants, lions, camels, horses and doves and, of course, animal trainers.
Giuseppe Verdi’s Aida was first staged in Cairo in 1871. It was as popular as any long-running musical of the “Cats” or “Les Miserables” variety today, and in 1873 embarked on a world tour, complete with a production book full of instructions. In 1880, it took Paris by such a storm that event the normally modest Verdi was prompted to write to the Countess Maffei, “I think that 12 or 14 years ago I wrote that Don Carlos was not a success. Now with the same frankness and little modesty, I tell you that Aida is a success”.
This particular production was first staged before the real Sphinx, in Giza, in 1987. It was then, with its ten thousand pound sphinx, its soldiers, prisoners, guards and handmaidens taken to Montreal, where of the 71,000 people who attended over two nights, over 85 percent had not been to an opera before. It is this audience that the Opera Festival, and presumably the sponsor, Toyota, are trying to attract in Sydney. And yes, the Sphinx nose is supposed to be broken: the opera was written after Napoleon’s army had used the Sphinx for target practice.
It is not only first-time operagoers they are attracting, but first time extras as well, judging by Dave from computers, Mark from futures, and Sheila from the Australian paper industry. “Are you from 60 minutes?” one of them asks a camera crew hanging around as we photograph the soldiers below the Sphinx’s nose. They are not entirely comfortable with their costumes, the Velcro is a bit of a worry, and they have a tendency to use their helmets as a protector for their vital parts. As for wearing a short skirt, they don’t think it will catch on as a fashion statement, particularly in a city renowned for its southerly busters.
At the last press conference before tonight’s performance, the ebullient Italian Maestro and impresario Giuseppe Raffa, artistic director and producer of Operama – International Opera Festival, is keen to point out that while his Aida is, as he calls it, “a spectacle”, it is also in keeping with Verdi’s original score. They story, which charts the tragic love between Radames and Aida, culminating in their live entombment; was written by Verdi complete with all the extras, including elephant and camel music.
“What we are doing here” says the Maestro, showing little, if any sign of the composer’s rectitude, “is giving you a perfect performance”. We are selling a concept Verdi wold approve of – Opera for the people”. The opera for the people includes such special touches as sackcloth and ashes draped over the entire stadium to give an impression of the desert, gourmet opera boxes, filled with various delicacies, and an incredibly beautiful collection of guards and maidens to drool over. (I’m told that only the most attractive were picked, but this is strictly rumour).
At the mention of the word “perfect” soprano Katia Ricciarelli, is moved to touch the maestro’s hand. “Don’t say perfect” she says, “anything can go wrong”.
Anything, it seems but the weather. They have been assured that it will not rain at night, if it does, they are able to play on their night off, but if it rains half-way through, audiences can say good-bye to their $ 200. There will be no repeats.
The press the Maestro for details of problems connected with a show of this size, but unlike some of the staff I met backstage, he is adamant there none. “Only the same problems as in Montreal” he says “Only problems of size, that is all”. I wander about acoustics but James Lock, the world’s best sound man – Pavarotti will work only with him – has provided a $ 1,5 million sound system, a substantial part of the $ 4 million it costs to stage this production. The sound system is, I am assured, the best in the world. (The word “best” is bandied around a lot by the Aida staff)
It is an odd press conference. None of the reporters seem very interested in opera, instead they ask so many questions about whether that Madame Ricciarelli murmurs, sotto voce: “They have water on the brain, these Australians”. The other cast members, Bruno Sebastian, Piero Cappuccilli, Roberto Scandiuzzi, Ruza Baldani, and Australian singers Donald Shanks and Christa Leahmann, laugh their agreement.
There is a shift away from the weather to jet-lag. Ricciarelli amiably gives us as many possible details as she can. She has slept 17 hours; she woke up in the early hours of morning; she watched “King Kong”; she ate some food. “What kind?” asks someone. “Veal Parmigiana”. Everybody dutifully writes it down. “I’m joking” she says, looking at us despairingly.
I ask Maestro Raffa if he thinks “Aida” will be going to Melbourne. “We would certainly like it to” he says, “It all depends on whether a venue can be found for it”.
Scandiuzzi is fidgeting. “Vamoose”, he says under his breath, looking at Maestro Raffa beseechingly. The Maestro stands, waves his hands and we vamoose.
The Sphinx broods over extras at the Sydney Football Stadium during rehearsals for the $ 4 million production of Aida