Tamerlano at the Royal Opera House, review

By Rupert Christiansen Published: 2:29PM GMT 08 March 2010

This was one of those shameful occasions when your censor has to retire, humbly revelation defeat. The top authorities hold that Tamerlano is one Handels autarchic masterpieces, formulating what Jonathan Keates calls a "sparse, bare, dark, indoor world" inhabited by characters whose emotions have the energy of a tragedy of Racine.

Alas, I can usually frankly discuss it you that I found all of the 215 sparse, bare, dim mins a miraculous crucifying bore, redeemed usually by a climb in the heat half approach by Act III, when the relentless period of da capo arias is eventually damaged by the low-pitched free-flow of Bajazets genocide stage and dual blessedly seemly duets. At slightest I was obviously not alone in my agony: not even Stockhausens Donnerstag can have annoyed such an assembly mass departure in the intervals.

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The prolongation cant be blamed for the evenings failure. Graham Vicks wholesome entertainment easily choreographs the arias and etches the outline of the tract but bitch or gloss. Richard Hudsons designs benefaction a gorgeous but not powerful spectacle, in that costumes evoking the gracefulness of Persian miniatures are set opposite the solid white walls of a semi-circular arena. I cant suppose it presented better.

The conducting can additionally be exonerated. Ivor Bolton led the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment with authority, and the not his error that Handel doesnt yield the arias with the symphonic appeal or accumulation of mood or dash that spur those of Giulio Cesare or Alcina.

But the singers might not have been creation the most appropriate box for Tamerlano. In the pretension purpose of the lewd tyrant, Christianne Stotijn (who claims, uniquely, to have had Janet Baker as her teacher) sounded clearly dull and out of her outspoken joy zone. Christine Schäfers resinous tinge is certainly not what Handel had in mind for the diamantine Asteria, and that glorious musician Sara Mingardo only cant plan her soft timbre with sufficient force to remonstrate as the hastily king Andronico.

However, beating that Placido Domingo had cried off the purpose of Bajazet was allayed by Kurt Streit, who sang and acted with forthright, male dignity, and Renata Pokupic was lively in the delegate soprano purpose of Irene.

The complaint remains: I only cant see or listen to the point of it all.