Imagine putting the grandeur of the ancient Egypt of Giuseppe Verdi’s Aida on the scaled-down stage of the Valentine Theatre.
Egyptians lived large: immense statues, mammoth pyramids, sweeping deserts, ornate and intricate ceremonies, a majestic Nile, and lots of eyeliner and tall hats. Verdi even added a triumphal march that is just, well, big. Add to that priests and kings and warriors; that’s an awful lot of humanity and scenery. Could it all work at the Valentine? Yes, without even one pyramid.
At Wednesday night’s dress rehearsal, Aida lost nothing in this translation by the Toledo Opera Association in its first production of the 2026-2027 season. The director, Linda Brovsky; the conductor, Adam Turner; the choreographer, Matt Steffens, knew they had a challenge, but, they said, a bit less of more; put the focus on where it belonged, on a warrior, a princess, and an enslaved woman with a royal secret of her own amid a war.
The scenery was enhanced by projections of grand golden temples and those immense statues. The chorus was larger. Costumes of flowing bright gold and blues and stunning lighting helped keep it grand. The chorus was larger, as was the orchestra, to handle Verdi. The rest was handled by the cast.
Tenor Brendan Boyle returned once again to sing his first Radames, the warrior who leads the Egyptian army against Ethiopia. Mary Elizabeth Williams made her company debut as Aida, an Ethiopian slave to Amneris, the king’s daughter, sung by contralto Lauren Decker, who made a big impression as the Principessa in Giacomo Puccini’s Suor Angelica and Mama Lucia in Pietro Mascagni’s Cavalleria Rusticana in Toledo in 2022. I was excited to hear her as Amneris, whose jealousy of the lovers, Radames and Aida, only causes tragedy for everyone. The role is a meaty one; it’s hard to love Amneris, yet she’s in love and as a princess, used to getting her way. Decker gave it her all, careening, as the role demands, from a haughty royal baiting a slave who must not reveal she too is royal, to a woman in love with someone who doesn’t love her back, to a woman who overhears “treason” from this man and turns hm in, only to lose him to death. Decker’s voice is powerful, as perfect in rage as it as in love, even though she knows it is not returned.
Williams is known for her portrayal of Aida, who is wrestling with love of country and the man sent to destroy it. She is superb, shining especially in Act 3’s “O Patria Mia (Oh, My Country)” as she wrestles with her dilemma. Williams makes it clear she’s struggling with hiding her royal identity and groveling to the princess who keeps her captive.
The tenor who sings Radames performs his big aria, “Celeste Aida (Heavenly Aida)” near the very beginning of the opera, a big ask by the composer. But if anyone can handle it, Boyle can, and he did. His voice is well-suited as the Egyptian warrior, and he certainly looks and sounds the hero: his voice is big but agile, and his tone is rich. As they say, if the sandal fits, wear it. Mission accomplished.
Nmon Ford sings Amonasro, Aida’s father and the Ethiopian king, who is captured but hides his identity, for a while, anyway. Ford is fierce in his portrayal of the warrior who shames his daughter into tricking Radames into revealing a military secret. His stage presence is imposing and his baritone rings out in anger.
Mark Doss is imposing as the priest Ramfis, and resident artist Timothy Krueger is a convincing king.
It used to be that acting was not all that important requisite to be a great opera singer. One reviewer complained about Golden Age soprano Nellie Melba’s lack of acting ability, writing that when she was upset she raised one arm, and if in distress she raised both. But the age of “park and bark” is over, and in TOA’s Aida, it showed.
The acting was superb. The singing, as noted, was too, but voice was not what kept me engrossed in the story. It’s a familiar one to me, but paring the staging made the story more personal. The furtive glances between Radames and Aida and other small gestures, such as the lovers daring to touch hands in passing, added another dimension to the love story.
It just goes to show you. Bigger is not always better. Smaller can be just as grand.
Aida opens Friday at 7:30 and Sunday at 2 at the Valentine Theatre, 410 Adams St.
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