I first watched Christof Loy’s new production of Rusalka when it was streamed live from the Teatro Real in November 2020 (Online Concerts and Events, 2/21). The opera house – like other theatres and concert halls in Spain – had been permitted to reopen in the wake of the pandemic, albeit with severe restrictions on performers and audiences alike, a concert semi-staging of La traviata confining performers to squares on a chequerboard. By the autumn, full productions were possible and Loy’s took to the stage with two casts.

Watching it again has only increased my admiration for what was achieved. Loy sets Dvořák’s watery tale in a dilapidated theatre, where Vodník is the impresario. His daughter, Rusalka, is a crippled ballerina, her desperation to dance again a metaphor for wanting to be turned into a human. When she implores the witch Ježibaba, who inhabits the box office and terrifies the ballerina woodsprites and chaplinesque clowns, for help, her bandaged foot is unwrapped during the spell and she is miraculously healed. She dances for the Prince, who is suitably smitten and carries her off to his own theatre. In Act 2, an auditorium can be seen through a doorway and a swanky wedding party takes place, ambushed by Karita Mattila as a vampish Foreign Princess.

Loy’s concept works well and the stylish production values make this one of the most successful Rusalkas on film, right up there with Martin Kušej’s harrowing, Josef Fritzl-inspired staging for the Bavarian State Opera, which featured Kristīne Opolais’s harrowing portrayal of a survivor of abuse.

Central to the success of Loy’s production is Asmik Grigorian’s outstanding, passionate Rusalka. Her soprano has just the right amount of steel to ride Dvořák’s orchestration; her Song to the Moon is poignant, the big Act 3 aria searing in intensity. But watch her! Grigorian is a superb actress and this is an absolute masterclass. Her reactions when others are singing are so nuanced and heartfelt, moved to tears by Vodník in Act 2. She lives every moment. On top of this, she was coached to dance en pointe, turning out elegant bourrées.

Eric Cutler sings a terrific Prince. It’s a taxing role but his tenor has the right balance of strength and sweetness to carry him through. He also has the additional challenge of performing on crutches, having sustained an Achilles injury late in rehearsals which had to be incorporated into the staging. Karita Mattila is in fine voice, relishing her predatory Princess and her posse of buffed male escorts. Maxim Kuzmin-Karavaev looks young to be singing the careworn Vodník but his warm, lyrical bass is attractive and his scenes with Grigorian are wonderfully tender. Katarina Dalayman is a fearsome Ježibaba and I liked young baritone Sebastià Peris as the hunter, here a clown who holds a candle for Rusalka. The trio of lively woodsprites are well blended, Rachel Kelly impressing with her silky mezzo along with Julietta Aleksanyan and Alyona Abramova. Ivor Bolton conducts a supple account of Dvořák’s luscious score. Highly recommended.