If ever there were an occasion where Verdi’s opera ought to be entitled ‘Amneris’‚ this is it. In that role Rosalind Plowright‚ now back in mezzo territory after her exploits as a soprano‚ gives a blinding account of the Egyptian princess’s love‚ jealousy and eventual remorse‚ thus confirming the fact that her character is the most interesting‚ as regards development‚ in the whole work. All her emotions are expressed in gleamingly dramatic tone and‚ above all‚ in an expressive use of Edmund Tracey’s translation‚ for once entirely justifying giving a work in the vernacular. Her incisive‚ bold and vocally resonant portrayal is as good a reason as any for acquiring this set. Another is the Radames of Dennis O’Neill. A long­time stalwart of this Chandos series‚ he has done nothing better in it than this reading of a role he has taken often on stage. There his small stature tells against him; here his stalwart singing is a big asset. He has the power for the dramatic moments‚ even if his tone sometimes sounds a shade strained these days under pressure‚ and more often perhaps than is possible in the theatre‚ he sings with subtle sensitivity. ‘Goddess Aida’ is sung‚ as it should always be‚ as a dreamy‚ inward romance with the final B flat sung pianissimo as Verdi enjoins. Similarly his contribution to the Act 3 duet with Aida is marked by some thoughtful phrasing‚ and ‘To die! So pure and lovely!’ in the final scene is ideally shaped. If only Jane Eaglen in the title role­had shown as much feeling for Verdian phraseology and drama as her colleagues. Ironically it is her name that is given undue prominence on the box and in the publicity material‚ but – truth to tell – she gives an anonymous impression of Aida’s predicament. Her voice remains secure and reasonably warm in its lower and middle reaches‚ but on high it now loses pitch‚ focus and colour‚ vitiating her attempts at quiet singing: the closing moments of ‘Oh‚ skies of blue’‚ Aida’s Act 3 solo‚ is a particularly unfortunate example of this. The lower roles are admirably taken. Although Gregory Yurisich’s voice has lost some of its bloom‚ he is still a strong performer and makes much of Amonasro’s Act 3 vituperation. Alastair Miles is a predictably secure and imposing Ramfis‚ Peter Rose a regal Pharaoh. Susan Gritton sings clearly and cleanly as the Priestess. Too often David Parry seems to opt for caution where histrionic daring is called for in this of all scores. He gets away from a sense of studio confinement only in the moments where his singers take fire‚ and that means the scenes involving Amneris and Amonasro. The Philharmonia play with conviction when allowed to. The Geoffrey Mitchell Choir never seem in the least Italianate in their contribution. The recording displays all the usual Chandos characteristics‚ mainly a wide range tending towards the reverberant. Plowright’s brilliant attack is unerringly caught‚ happily so as her superb performance is the best reason for buying this set.