Twenty years ago, “La Boheme” surpassed “Aida” as the opera most often performed by the Metropolitan Opera. Shorter and easier to cast, the Puccini opera also benefited from Franco Zeffirelli’s enduring production, then only three years old. But despite a widely acknowledged shortage of Verdi singers, “Aida” has held its own at the Met in recent years, and big voices were on stage in requisite numbers when the opera made a solid seasonal debut on Friday night.

Sonja Frisell’s 1988 production holds up well, too. Its handling of the triumphal scene may lack the eye-dazzling spectacle of Mr. Zeffirelli’s second-act set for “Boheme,” but at least you can spot the principal singers amid the choristers, dancers, and supernumeraries. Indeed, this “Aida” has a tasteful restraint that seems foreign to Mr. Zeffirelli’s thinking. Gianni Quaranta’s sets and Dada Saligeri’s costumes have a unified color scheme in their emphasis on off-white and sandy shades – the color of Egyptian moments, of which there are plenty – and Zoe Pappas directs stage traffic for this revival in orderly fashion.

Given the largely familiar cast, interest focused especially on Salvatore Licitra, singing the role of the Egyptian warrior Radames for the first time at the Met. Regarded as a rising star after a series of performances at La Scala and other Italian houses, the tenor was engaged by the Met in 2002 to cover Luciano Pavarotti for a telecast of “Tosca.” Mr. Pavarotti did indeed cancel – as was reported in almost excruciating detail – and Mr. Licitra returned to the Met for more performances of “Tosca” last spring.

Mr. Licitra’s performance Friday night confirmed his status as an important singer, though not quite the Radames of one’s dreams. The voice lacked the bloom I remember from his Trovatore at La Scala five years ago, sounding a bit short of liquid resonance, that hallmark of tenorial beauty. Still, his is a warm, full sound with the requisite element of metallic ring, and he is an engaging presence on stage. Mr. Licitra delivered “Celeste Aida” with a welcome degree of fervor and crisp diction, crowning the aria with a solid high B flat sung full voice, as one normally hears it, rather than pianissimo, as Verdi indicated. He brought a measure of tenderness to the final duet – during which Radames and his beloved Aida expire in a tomb – although other tenors have caressed the vocal line here more sensitively.

Michele Crider sings Aida the world over, and it’s not hard to see why. She has the range, temperament, and vocal heft for the part, which she previously sang at the Met three years ago. Her experience has given her ample occasion to refine her portrayal, and she has taken full advantage of the opportunity to do so, at least on the basis of a performance I heard in Dresden in the late 1990s. Now she sings with greater style and assurance. I might want a more plush sound in mid-range or a more ravishingly floated pianissimo, but this is an impressive Aida, musically satisfying and vocally commanding.

Dolora Zajick has been associated with this production almost from the beginning, succeeding the original Amneris, Fiorenza Cossotto, when “Aida” opened the house the following season. Ms. Zajick’s voice is even more powerful than Ms. Crider’s, yet she is judicious in unleashing its full force, preferring to characterize the Egyptian princesses through a dynamically varied performance rather than one unremittingly loud. She opens the throttle excitingly in her second-act confrontation with Aida and later as she desperately attempts to save Radames from a death sentence. Ms. Zajick’s singing is forthright, almost matter-of-fact, and without much nuance, but the audience loves her.

The fine Georgian baritone Lado Ataneli sang handsomely in his first Met Amonasro, and Paata Burchu ladze’s big bass voice, heard as the high priest Ramfis, remained steady and imposing. But another bass, Morris Robinson, was even better as the Egyptian king: His black, resonant sound served him beautifully here and also sounds ideal for the German repertory. So it is good to see that he will sing Sarastro in “The Magic Flute” later in the season.

Another asset of the revival was the strong conducting from James Conlon. He shaped the opening of the prelude with an almost ethereal delicacy and went on to set well-judged tempos, maintain fine balances, and support the singers with loving attention.

Until February 18 at the Metropolitan Opera House (Lincoln Center, 212-362-6000).