Giulio Cesare – review

Most opera companies now post promotional videos on their websites, which can betray some of the creative differences that may have arisen in rehearsal. In Opera North's short documentary, soprano Sarah Tynan explains her concept of Cleopatra as a determined woman successfully wielding power in a man's world; before director Tim Albery begs to differ with his idea of a manipulative flirt. Of course, they're both right. Handel's Cleopatra, like Shakespeare's and George Bernard Shaw's, is nothing if not the sum total of her contradictions. Even so, one would have liked to have seen Tynan's face when presented with her first-act costume: a pair of electric-blue hot pants out of which she wriggles into something even shorter.

There is always a length issue to negotiate with Giulio Cesare, whether it be hemlines or the decision of which numbers to excise, given that Handel produced a four-hour sequence of arias with hardly a makeweight among them. Albery's version, compiled with conductor Robert Howarth, condenses Handel's three-act structure into two parts, so some losses are inevitable.

The gain is a tighter plot with increased dramatic impact. The cast list features the unusual inclusion of Jem Dobbs as Pompeo – a non-singing role and, indeed, a non-breathing one as he is assassinated during the overture. But it gives the action a compelling sense of tragic cause and effect: Sesto vows to avenge his dead father; the diabolical Tolomeo has designs on the widow; his sister Cleopatra engages in an alliance with Cesare in order to stop him. The twist is that, having resolved to seduce the Roman leader, Cleopatra genuinely falls in love. Pamela Helen Stephen's Cesare is a dour soldier with mud on his boots; yet her initially wiry tone softens delectably as she becomes caught in the crossfire between military and amorous conquest. Tynan's Cleopatra is a vulnerable young woman still green in judgement, yet delivers some of the finest, most tasteful baroque singing you will hear anywhere.

The steely-toned counter-tenor James Laing is perfectly sinister as Cleopatra's evil sibling Tolomeo, who shares not only his sister's lust for power but her perverse taste in blue satin shorts. Kathryn Rudge's Sesto suffers a raw deal from some of the cuts, but what she achieves with the remainder suggests that she has everything required of an exciting young mezzo: tone, technique and absolute conviction in a pair of trousers.