Pelléas et Mélisande

Debussy's ethereal tragedy of waifs, woods, dungeons and caves in a misty kingdom by the sea… Symbolist, a dash of expressionism, pre-Raphaelites meet Art Nouveau, a hint of Celtic féerie… Shame the production ignores all these possibilities: the usual pivotal slabs pushed round the stage are acceptably lit and moderately atmospheric but the cast is sabotaged by the most unflattering costumes to be found outside the big top. 'It takes a lot to make Simon Keenlyside look bad,' murmured the distinguished conductor sitting next to me. And Catherine Wyn-Rogers should sue. Luckily nothing can make the cast or orchestra sound bad. Rattle's conducting brings out the beauties of the orchestral writing so as to make you wonder why it was ever thought hard to grasp ('Che bella musica!' jeered the Italians at the Scala premiere – 'Yes, it is!' furiously shouted Maestro Toscanini back at the audience). The singing is superb as is the acting, within the production's stylised constraints, down to the terrifyingly self-possessed young boy playing Little Yniold. Last performance.