Entertainment

Diva’s debut rocks like an Egyptian in ‘Aida’

The Met’s newest diva has a name your spell checker’s not likely to recognize: Liudmyla Monastyrska.

But after her sumptuous debut Friday in Verdi’s “Aida,” opera fans are not only spelling the name, but shouting it — Lewd-ME-la Mana-STEER-ska — because the Ukrainian singer is that rare find: a genuine spinto soprano.

The voice is full and dark, with a distinctive vibrato that lends a hint of savage excitement to the basically cool tone. The sound is even through most of two octaves, with a touch of metal that sends high C’s sailing out over the brassiest orchestra clamor.

Her eloquent phrasing and graceful movement onstage brought dignity to the role of Aida, an Ethiopian princess in love with Radames, general of the enemy Egyptians.

American tenor Carl Tanner jumped into that role on six hours’ notice when the scheduled singer, Marco Berti, called in sick. Happily, Tanner not only saved the show but also offered an exciting, muscular performance.

In the final duet, as the lovers die, sealed in a tomb, they traded off ravishing pianissimo phrases.

Joining these newcomers was Olga Borodina, marking her 14th year since she first sang the jealous Egyptian princess Amneris at the Met. Her voluptuous mezzo encompassed both the sensuous and vindictive aspects of this complicated character.

She flubbed the climactic high A of her final scene that night, but luckily she was working with a net: Conductor Fabio Luisi covered the crack with a fortissimo orchestra outburst.

Earlier, he found delicate poetry in orchestral details like the plaintive oboe solo accompanying Aida’s “O patria mia” aria and the tinkling percussion of the second act “Slave Dance.”

Strong casting extended to smaller roles as well. Alberto Mastromarino poured out a strong baritone as Ethiopian king Amonasro, Aida’s father, and Stefan Kocán unfurled an anthracite-colored bass as the fanatical high priest Ramfis.

With so many excellent singers, it’s a shame the Met revived its dreary Sonja Frisell staging from 1988. Though the towering sandstone sets still look as cleanly antique as they did at the opera’s premiere, this revival helmed by Stephen Pickover offered little drama beyond basic traffic direction of the spectacular Triumphal Scene.

Even there, amid horse-drawn chariots and Alexei Ratmansky’s uncharacteristically ragged ballet, it was hard not to wonder: Based on those muscular male extras strutting in the victory parade, did the ancient Egyptians invent chest waxing?