Because it should have been Aida. And it was Aida, actually, but it was a madhouse Aida.
I am quite tolerate to interpritations and variations of the old arts into modern context with subtle analogies, wordplay etc. But this was the proper opera in the white cubicle: I felt claustrophobic right away. It seemed like the whole bunch of heroes was put into the soft room where they had their mad dream on the famous topic...oh... Might be a probability as well...Because Radames seemed quite inscure with hit plush elephant before The Battle (which he actually was ready to and yearned for). And all his mighty self-sacrificing love to Aida was quite pale, because he constantly hugged massive mezzo-soprano Amneris (who fainted too much and acted like a filthy hooker)
And yeah, the celebration of Radames' victory! Crazy Infantile Praty. CIP does sound like a diagnosis.
I conclude, how great it was that I started with Die Walküre! Now I know at least that opera could be better.
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