It can be difficult to reconcile twenty-first century sensibilities with the realities of Mozart’s time, particularly given concerns about the ‘othering’ of ethnic and/or religious groups. Take, for example, English Touring Opera’s new production of The Seraglio, sung in English and costumed in eighteenth century dress. The programme notes discuss this very issue, referring to ‘the popular image of the marauding, rapacious Muslim that still persisted after the Crusades’, ignoring the eighteenth century Ottoman attacks on Austria and the ongoing depredations of the Barbary pirates. In the circumstances, therefore, the sympathetic treatment of Pasha Selim is significant. No such sympathy extends to his sidekick Osmin, however.

The production as a whole is exemplary ensemble work with every member of the cast – even the non-speaking guards and harem women – contributing, with a high standard of acting. The story of Belmonte rescuing his beloved, her maid and his steward from the harem of the Pasha Selim has lots of scope for low comedy as well as high drama, and director Stephen Medcalf gets the balance right.

John-Colyn Gyeantey is a revelation, his light tenor perfectly suited to Belmonte and enhanced by his acting. His faces lights up with pure joy when he sings of his love for Konstanze. In contrast, his steward Pedrillo (Richard Pinkstone) has something other in his life than his love for Blonde: he has been employed in the Pasha’s gardens. The opera opens in a room with piles of botanical books and gardening tools, and there is a charming scene when Osmin (Matthew Stiff) is raging about young men who go spying, while Pedrillo is taking measurements and sightings with ranging rods and theodolite.

Meanwhile, Osmin has designs on  Konstanze’s maid Blonde, who was given him by the Pasha. Stiff has some very low notes to reach, and a fair emotional range to express – mainly on the ‘rage’ end of the spectrum – which he does well, never tipping into caricature. The Vivat Bacchus duet with Pedrillo is a joy, with just enough pantomime, as is Blonde’s With smiles and gentle caresses aria, during which she gives him a decidedly vicious massage. Nazan Fikret is a proud Englishwoman, standing up for her rights – one almost expects her to burst into Rule Britannia! - but pragmatic withal; there is a hint that she could accommodate herself to her fate, were she not to be rescued.

But not Konstanze. Locked in a gilded cage by the Pasha, who wants her to come to him willingly, rather than to force her, Lucy Hall combines passivity with steel. Accepting of her fate, yet she holds out against him. The slapstick that surrounds the abortive rescue passes her by. She and the non-singing Pasha (Alex Andreou) are the only non-comic characters – and the ones who have the philosophical discussion about ethics and mores.

Adam Wilthire’s set and costumes eschew stereotypical orientalism. The servants are dressed in blues and greens, the Pasha, Belmonte and Konstanze in rich reds. Conductor John Andrews keeps the music tripping along for a highly entertaining performance.