Watching the performance of an opera or a ballet in the ancient open-air theater at Aspendos in the province of Antalya is an unforgettable experience as the theater itself dates back to the second century B.C. and its stones retain its ancient spirit, which they infuse into the productions there. My wife, our niece, Kübra Satılış and I had come to watch a performance of "Aida," one of the most famous of Giuseppe Verdi’s operas, and the opening production for the ongoing 30th International Aspendos Opera and Ballet Festival. Kübra had appropriately dressed for the occasion, as I myself believe is only right for an arts performance, but I have to confess that my own get up and belief failed to match.

For those who are unfamiliar with it, the story of "Aida" is relatively simple. The opera is set in ancient Egypt. The eponymous character of Aida herself is an Ethiopian princess but lives as a captive slave, her true identity unknown to the Egyptians. She is owned by the Egyptian princess Amneris. Both Aida and Amneris are in love with the Egyptian warrior Radames, but only Aida’s love is reciprocated, and Amneris becomes jealous of her. Radames is chosen to lead an army against an invading Ethiopian force, which he does, successfully defeating it and bringing back booty and prisoners, one of whom is Aida’s father Amonasro, also unrecognized. Amonasro soon sees the hold Aida has over Radames and persuades his daughter to get Radames to reveal an Egyptian military secret. When Radames does this, he is arrested by the Egyptians and condemned to death by being sealed in a tomb. Aida, however, is secretly awaiting him in there and they celebrate their love while waiting for their deaths.

"Aida" was for a long time the opera that most interested me. The reason was not due to the story I have related above but rather the true story surrounding its genesis. As is well known, operas are usually adaptations from literature, such as Verdi’s "Otello" based on William Shakespeare’s "Othello." But this opera was a new work whose inception is connected to the greatest engineering feat of the 19th century and something that changed the Near East forever – the opening of the Suez Canal in 1869. As a person who has a deep interest in Near Eastern history, this begot an interest in the opera in me.

Production of ‘Aida’ at festival

As for the production at Aspendos, what was particularly impressive about it was the stage set, the costume design and the lighting. The stage was replete with enormous yet well-crafted stage props inspired by the remarkable art, both architectural and religious, of ancient Egypt. There were thick columns with lotus flower capitals that matched those in the Temple of Luxor in Egypt and giant images of the gods Anubis and Thoth. The props had also been beautifully decorated with colorful hieroglyphics.

In terms of costume, there is one spectacular multicolored scene in which Aida herself was dressed in red Indian-influenced dress; the guards wore their Tutankhamun-inspired headdresses in blue and green, Radames shone resplendently in gold, the Egyptian priests were in mostly black and the nuns in white. There is also a brilliant, striking, inverted color symbolism in the second act when Aida is interviewed by Amneris. Aida was also dressed in red here, but Amneris was in white, though Aida is innocent and Amneris was devilishly toying with her.

With the lighting, when Radames is about to be condemned, the use of an ominous red filling the stage and its backdrop is particularly evocative. The use of deep green in the scene by the Nile really produced a botanical atmosphere, which was enhanced by the palm fronds that had been added by the set designers.

Yet, one extra delight to a performance at Aspendos is that nature itself lends a hand to creating the atmosphere. Here, for instance, the palm fronds themselves, caught in the night breeze, actually swayed, making it considerably more atmospheric, as if the light winds themselves were really coming off the Nile. In other scenes, the breeze ruffled the costumes of the performers and played with the braided wigs of the female performers.

In Shakespeare’s "A Midsummer Night’s Dream," a theatrical troupe made up of the city’s laborers worry themselves about how to get moonlight onto the stage. Those concerned with this production in Aspendos solved the problem with a white spotlight projected onto the west-facing wall behind the stage. Owing to the cracked and uneven stonework there, the circle of light was made into a more realistic moon in that it appeared to have the marked surface of the real thing. However, in the third act, the actual waning gibbous moon itself came into view over the top of the wall. Furthermore, adding to the celestial light show, just a little to its right, was the planet Jupiter shining brightly.

Prior to all of this, however, the heavens had hidden a particularly delightful surprise. The night of the performance was one for which stormy weather had been forecast, so, at first, there was no way to know whether the jet-black sky above was due to cloud cover or light pollution from the lit theater. The question was answered when the lights were completely dimmed, and the starry heavens above shone out in resplendence. What was a particularly delightful irony for this evening was that the constellation that was visible to the left just above the corner of the theater was that of Cassiopeia. We were being watched over by a constellation whose story also revolves around an Ethiopian princess, in this case, Andromeda and a warrior, just as the one on the stage was about to do.

Overall, the performance of Aida was good, with some moments that especially stood out. In the first act, when Aida feels torn between her love of her homeland and that of Radames, the loneliness of her condition is symbolically enhanced by the four guards at the corners of the stage, all having their backs turned to her. The scenes in which Amonasro persuaded his daughter to act in his and their country’s interest and the one in which Radames is led to the tomb and thrust within were also brilliantly and powerfully rendered. I must also mention the troupe of dancing children, who, as they paid homage to Amneris in the second act, performed excellently with their well-choreographed Egyptian-inspired dancing.

Themes of interest

Here, I would like to pass on the specific performance of "Aida" in Aspendos to look at the opera as a dramatic work. It certainly raises some interesting themes. War is its backdrop, which is perhaps unsurprising as it was much of Verdi’s own career that coincided with the drawn-out struggle for the reunification of Italy. Martial music is used throughout the opera and is sometimes used in contrast with more personal plaints. Indeed, this is symbolic of a particularly significant theme in the work – the potential conflict between the love of a person and the love of one’s community and homeland and its corresponding clash in loyalties.

This makes for effective dramatic tension. Not only is Aida torn between her love for Ethiopia and her love for Radames, but Radames himself cannot initially see how he could flee his own country with his beloved, though he comes to be persuaded to. Yet when she is finally forced to choose, Aida does choose her homeland, though she is browbeaten into doing so, and she suffers for it. Overwhelmed by feelings of jealousy, Amneris actually weakens her own country by causing the downfall of Radames, but this leaves her in despair.

Thus, an element of cynicism can be detected in this work. In attempting to satisfy her emotional needs at the expense of the state, Amneris loses what she desires most. But Aida, in putting her country above her own desires, even if in exceptional circumstances, does unite herself with her beloved but only temporarily, as death is soon to put an end to their relationship. Hence, the issue of private vs. public good is raised in the opera, but perhaps as suits the increasingly skeptical age in which the opera was made, it leaves the issue unresolved.

Perhaps the opera wishes to denounce war itself. This is typical of the European outlook in the wake of World War I but a somewhat surprising one in the context of the reunification of Italy, an event that surely would not have occurred but for the force of arms and which was regarded as a righteous and glorious undertaking. Yet, the destructive nature of war is clearly emphasized in the opera. Amonasro graphically relates the effect that war has had upon his people, exclaiming, "Recall how Egyptian hordes descended/On our homes; our temples, our altars dared profane!/Cast in bonds sisters, daughters undefended,/Mothers, children, helpless old men slain!" The plunder that is lost to one people when they are defeated by another is made visually evident to the audience by the treasures brought in from the Ethiopians in Act II. Yet, far more disturbing, of course, are the human captives. They are at the mercy of the conquering power, and it is quite clear that mercy is almost nonexistent within it. But for the promise made by the pharaoh to Radames and his subsequent intervention on their behalf, it is clear that they would never have been spared.

Here, it is possible to detect further cynicism. As an audience, we are surely encouraged to regard the intervention of Radames as righteous. However, it could be argued that in terms of realpolitik, Radames is in the wrong. Amonasro, being one of those spared, wastes no time plotting his revenge upon Egypt and is to cause Radames’ own downfall. Niccolo Machiavelli, a fellow countryman of Verdi from a few centuries earlier, would surely have viewed the action of Radames as a fatal error, and in Radames’ case, it is literally so.

A further question concerning conflict is raised by the opera and that is the question of where wars of revenge lead. It is implied that they can never be resolved, but each act of revenge ensures a wound for the other side that, in turn, calls for renewed vengeance. A case of "an eye for an eye making the world go blind." Moreover, considering that each side finds itself to have been wronged, a peaceful settlement to their conflict seems unlikely. Egypt is outraged by the Ethiopian invasion of their country, thus viewing their going into conflict as acting in a righteous cause. Ethiopia is invading to recover Aida, the princess that Egypt has stolen from them; therefore, they, too, work as if their warfare is righteous. In the third act, we learn that Egypt’s earlier martial success has once again led to a counterattack on the part of the Ethiopians, who are invading Egypt anew. It is something like a gory tennis match that will never be concluded.

Unsatisfying story

Despite these and other points of interest that it raises, on the whole, I find "Aida" to be disappointing. By this, I am not maligning the production at Aspendos – my criticism is aimed at the opera itself. The disappointment does not come from minor errors such as the goddess Isis being Osiris’ mother when she is, in fact, his sister. The frustration with the work revolves around the character of Aida herself. She has that saccharine sweetness of many a female victim that ironically goes back at least as far as Andromeda but who is fortunately quite atypical of the female characters of Ancient Greek literature. It is a far more typical character in male-authored 19th-century works from Lucie Mannette in "A Tale of Two Cities" by Charles Dickens to the insufferable Mimi in Giacomo Puccini’s "La Boheme."

Aida loves and suffers and has none of the enterprise that we expect from our heroines in our more equal age. For instance, rather than try to rescue Radames at the end, she merely meekly waits in the tomb to die with him. She is also weak of will, admittedly having been subjected to a guilt trip of epic proportions by her father, acting solely against the one person in the opera, Radames, who is unreservedly on her side. As for Radames, the counterpart to such a wet blanket of a heroine, he is unsurprisingly a hero whose two-dimensionality renders him almost cartoonlike. Although he is deemed fit to lead an army, he seems utterly naive to the reality of the world and this leads to his downfall. I may be hardhearted here, but as he is such a sap, I feel he deserves his Fate.

It should be said that, in contrast, Amneris is a far more interesting figure in that she attempts to secure what she wants. Morally, her actions are questionable, but at least she is not just a whimpering figure of suffering femininity. Indeed, repenting of what she has done to Radames, she is even willing to curse the powerful priests toward the end of the opera. The character of Amonasro, though supposedly evil, is also far more interesting than Radames, and the pity is that we do not see enough of him.

Due to the lasting nature of its phenomenal monumental funerary architecture, our understanding of ancient Egypt has been, rightly or wrongly, highly colored by the issue of death. However, I find the effective glorification of death at the end of the play morbid. Love and death is not a necessarily problematic combination. In Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, it is very moving. However, in that play, the love between the characters is life-affirming and aims at a future together, which is only prevented by Fate. In Aida, by contrast, although it starts out this way, it soon degenerates into an idea that death in love is to be positively welcomed. Aida, having failed to secure a life together with Radames in the end, disconcertingly revels in the idea of dying as a couple.

So, I think I have had my fill of "Aida." It may, like the Suez Canal it was inspired by, have been a wonder in the 19th century, but as the container ship getting stuck in the canal back in 2021 symbolized that it is no longer so fit for purpose in the 21st century, I feel the same is true of the opera. Thus, as the character of Aida so plaintively intones in reference to her homeland during "O Patria Mia," her best-known aria, "mai piu," meaning "nevermore" – that is, she will never see it again – I feel "mai piu" for any other performance for this opera.

Nevertheless, this "mai piu" does not apply to other performances at Aspendos, as every time I have seen one, I have felt privileged to be in such a unique environment.