Aida would have been impossible had it not been for Verdi’s experience of writing Don Carlos for the Paris Opéra. Aida is essentially a French grand opera in the Meyerbeer tradition, but sung in Italian. It has all of the French hallmarks: a huge chorus and orchestra, brilliant instrumental effects, a tendency toward the ‘exotic’, an integral approach to ballet, a larger number of principal roles and a dual approach to musical style that is both ‘intimate’ and ‘grand’. But unlike Don Carlos, Aida is one of those works that looks backward rather than forward. It is one of Verdi’s more conservative efforts with ‘numbers’ and musical pieces that are closed (i.e., a clear beginning and ending; a ‘closed’ aria could easily be excerpted in a recital without damage to its structure). That is not to argue that Aida is an inferior work in Verdi’s canon; it is simply more in the spirit of Il trovatore than Rigoletto or La traviata, emphasizing more traditional operatic forms.
The glory of Aida is to be found in its melody which spills out of every page of the score. The Prelude itself is based on two melodic ideas which instantly inspire the ear. The first, so quietly played by the violins in the first bars of the piece, is associated with the character of Aida herself. The second, a descending scale passage with a darker color, is later associated with the priestly caste which eventually condemns Radames, the Egyptian Captain and war hero. It is this second melodic idea that eventually leads to a statement by the full orchestra at the center of the Prelude, reiterating the Aida theme. This is a perfect example of how the entire opera works musically; one moment we hear exquisitely intimate music, the next we are nearly in Wagner territory with the entire orchestra blaring away ferociously.
One need only point to the most famous moments in Aida to show Verdi’s melodic gifts in full swing: Radames’ opening aria “Celeste Aida”, Aida’s brilliant exit scene/recitative/aria “Ritorna vincitor!”, the ritual opening of the second scene in Amneris’ apartments with its haunting prayer to Phta by the High Priestess, the brilliant succession of memorable melodies in the Triumphal Scene including the march and ballet, and certainly the beautiful duet “O terra addio” at the end of the opera which sends audiences away humming.
Critics occasionally mumble their disappointment in the musical characterization of the two main characters, who admittedly do not change at all during the course of the drama. They are archetypal figures, two lovers against an unbending world, something that we’ve seen in opera way too many times to count! But look to Amneris for true characterization and fascinating growth of character. Like Azucena and Eboli before her, Princess Amneris is the dynamic force in this opera who moves from suspicion to love to jealousy to despair, and whose music matches those changes in mood perfectly.
One of the great achievements of this opera is Verdi’s use of local color, a touch of the exotic throughout, and this is truly something from the French tradition. From the moment the Prelude begins we know intuitively that we’re in a different world, a far-off, ancient and exotic world. With brilliant touches of instrumental timbre we’re kept in that world, caught up in it; and we exult in it. As is pointed out in the excellent Grove Dictionary article about the opera, Aida is virtually impossible to set in any environment other than ancient Egypt. Verdi did such an incredible job of particularizing the music to that place and time that to move it to any other world would be impossible. He has re-created the world of ancient Egypt so clearly, so concisely and with such imagination that to reference the work visually in any other way would be to destroy it.