The Fairy Queen – review

The Restoration genre of semi-opera looks odd when described on paper, and in practice is rarely executed in full: many modern performances junk the lengthy spoken text. Yet this revival of Jonathan Kent's 2009 Glyndebourne production of The Fairy Queen proves once again that if you do more or less what it says on the packet, the mix can rise to an unusual level of splendour and delight.

Dating from 1692, the evening's basis is a cut-down version of A Midsummer Night's Dream. Placed at the ends of the acts, however, are substantial masque-like interludes, tangential to the play rather than flowing from it. These compendiums of songs and dances, with themes such as sleep or seduction, tax the ingenuity of directors, designers and choreographers – as well as requiring a third company, of dancers, to be added to the bands of singers and actors.

The triumph of this production lies in the imagination and wit with which these potentially tricky masques are handled. They're impeccably sung by a large cast – among whom Carolyn Sampson, Robert Burt and David Soar provide some of the highlights – and vividly danced in Kim Brandstrup's choreography, which travels through an enormous range of styles without a false step.

There's some mingling between the phalanxes of performers: Christopher Benjamin, a know-all Bottom amid a troupe of mechanicals, also takes on the sung role of the Drunken Poet – one of many zanily surreal moments in Kent's endlessly inventive staging. Add in Paul Brown's magical designs and Laurence Cummings's vital conducting of the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment, and the pack is complete.