US Edition 
Belshazzar, Barbican; Der Fliegende Holländer, Royal Festival Hall, review
Der Fliegende Holländer at Royal Festival Hall was one of the most enthralling performances of that opera Rupert Christiansen had ever seen - and Belshazzar at the Barbican wasn't bad either.
With stage directions written into its original libretto, Belshazzar (four stars) has the reputation of being the most overtly theatrical of Handel’s oratorios. Yet its first 90 minutes seems slow-going, at least in terms of its humdrum arias, and only when the writing is on the wall during the splendid second act does the drama catch fire – abetted in this superb Arts Florissants concert by a deliciously over-the-top Allan Clayton as the paranoid protagonist who has had one too many and gets his comeuppance.
Iestyn Davies sang impeccably as his nemesis Daniel, but Handel makes the character seem unctuously sanctimonious rather than spiritually authoritative. As Belshazzar’s harassed mother Rosemary Joshua presented a more sympathetic figure: she too was vocally flawless.
If some of Handel’s solo writing emerges tepidly, the choruses came across as white-hot throughout (“Recall, o King” must rank among the composer’s most sublimely original inspirations), and Les Arts Flo’s choir sang them all with an ideal blend of clarity, colour and commitment.
William Christie led proceedings in his inimitable fashion. Even his tireless verve didn’t leave me altogether convinced that Belshazzar would thrive in a fully staged presentation, but with superb instrumental playing and Caitlin Hulcup and Jonathan Lemalu lending staunch support as the invading Persians, it would be hard to imagine the music sounding better that it did here.
One always hopes that concert performances of familiar operas will compensate for the absence of staging with some novel element of casting.
This wasn’t the case with Zurich Opera’s one-night stand at the Royal Festival Hall with Der fliegende Holländer (five stars): Covent Garden audiences already know what both Bryn Terfel and Anja Kampe make of the roles of the Dutchman and Senta.
But how could one complain? They were both in torrentially magnificent voice: Terfel all doomy and baleful, Kampe obsessive and intense, in strong contrast to the stolidly mercenary Daland of Matti Salminen.
And if it’s novelty you crave, then the conductor was not a known quantity – Alain Altinoglu, a young Frenchman who proved his worth with crisply propulsive tempi and a nervous energy that never became merely hectic. What an added pleasure to hear Zurich Opera’s superb orchestra and chorus, surely one of Europe’s finest: Covent Garden should look to its laurels.
Without some silly production getting in the way, this was the most enthralling performance of this opera I have ever experienced.