A hard and strong work. Michieletto goes beyond formal fidelity to Verdi and exalts him

The first punch in the stomach comes with the Messenger, who brings the news of the war crimes of the Ethiopian barbarians carrying the corpse of a little girl in his arms. And then you understand for the first time why Verdi wrote sentences so full of pain for this supporting actor. AND Aida at the National Theater in Munich, directed by Damiano Michieletto, opera theater intended as a reflection on who we are, but which does not exclude emotion. Not Egypt, of course: the first two acts take place in a dilapidated school that serves as a refuge for refugees from some war, let’s say Bakhmut: black gashes let blackish dust from the just-finished bombing fall from the ceiling. In the last two, the school has been submerged by debris and the scene is occupied by an enormous triangular mountain (here it is, the pyramid!) of these black fragments: the scenes, as usual, are by that great genius Paolo Fantin. It is a frightened and impoverished humanity wearing rubber galoshes and anoraks of dull colors (perfect costumes by Carla Teti) and tries to survive as best she can, with the sole comfort of a hot soup served up by Aida bullied by Amneris in an atrocious aubergine suit, and here the quote is perhaps the favorite color of the Bavarian sciuras. Ramfis is not a priest but stands between the mafia boss and the paramilitary leader, in short, very Wagner and not in Richard’s sense: after having liquidated Amonasro with gunshots in the third act, in the fourth he also forces a destroyed Amneris to get engaged to him forcing the ring on her.