Handel’s fifth London opera Amadigi (1715) is a tender study of four people suffering in a love quadrangle, of whom only two – Amadigi and Oriana – are fated to survive. It is my favourite of Handel’s early London operas, but the only previous recording, by Marc Minkowski (Erato, 9/91), rarely showed the TLC that the lovely score requires. Instead of this new Spanish recording finding more eloquence and poetry in Handel’s gorgeous music, the performance is dreadful, taking matters in completely the wrong direction.

Handel would not have cherished such abrasive and ugly playing as we hear from Al Ayre Español. Eduardo Lopéz Banzo’s mismanagement of the score is almost constantly frustrating. In particular, string-playing is extreme, hard-driven and overloaded with exaggerated jolting. Following along with the full score of the opera turned out to be a depressing experience; important subtleties and glories are lost from every number.

Banzo and his musicians perform with an absurd lack of sympathy for the musico-dramatic subtlety of ritornelli; lyrical andantes are usually mutated into staccato allegros, and a few places where Handel actually wants such special effects are tastelessly overdone (the appearance of Dardano’s ghost in Act 3, marked Adagio e staccato, is aggressively thwacked). The continuo accompaniment of recitatives is fussy and mangled. The addition of intrusive percussion in the last scene’s sinfonia and concluding chorus is stupid and grossly unstylish.

The singers are uniformly average, and their ornamentation in da capos is frequently bad. Sharon Rostorf-Zamir comes off slightly better as the evil sorceress Melissa. Her showpiece aria “Desterò dall’empia dite” (with solo trumpet) is brash and sassy, although it becomes a mad dash. Banzo’s immature rugby-tackling approach to the music makes a mess of things. Time and again, the music is pushed so hard that there is simply no room for Handel’s personality and warmth to show through. Even Dardano’s “Pena tiranna” is spoilt by being played too loudly (Jordi Domènech’s wobbly timbre does not help either). There are very few bright spots. Oriana’s “S’estinto è l’idol mio” is sweetly done, but Banzo and his band skip through her gorgeous siciliano “Gioie, venite” while somehow managing to avoid its beauty entirely. This performance is devoid of affection and utterly lacking in good judgement.