Some historians now argue that the Dark Ages were not really all that dark and observe that cultural light did not suddenly blossom from nothing into the full-blown Renaissance. The comparison is apt for those pioneers who championed Handel’s operas between the 1950s and the late 1970s, before serious attempts were made to perform them in the original language, without cuts, without high male characters transposed down, and accompanied by period instruments. One Handelian pioneer of that alleged dark age was Dame Joan Sutherland. But by the time she and Richard Bonynge belatedly recorded an old-fashioned Rodelinda in 1985, approaches to performing Baroque opera had already progressed considerably. The use of a heavily abridged version, the fuzzy vibrato-laden playing of the orchestra of Welsh National Opera, ponderous recitatives and pedestrian tempi conspire to place this performance firmly out of date even when it was taped. Nevertheless, this is a welcome reissue of a testament to one of the 20th century’s most formidable Handelian divas.

Another version of Rodelinda shows that the political reality of the superstar diva remains alive and kicking. New York’s Metropolitan Opera built its 2004 production around Renée Fleming, this DVD taken from the December 2011 revival. Stephen Wadsworth’s sincere staging makes only a few cuts and is meticulously faithful to the spirit of the libretto. Set elegantly in mid-18th-century Milan, it evokes the world for which the teenage Mozart wrote Mitridate. Harry Bicket coaxes the Met orchestra into a credible Baroque style. Andreas Scholl returns to the role with which he made his stage debut at Glyndebourne in 1998: his ‘Dove sei’ no longer has quite the effortless beauty it once did and hints of fragility in ‘Vivi tiranno’ prevent cut and thrust but he has considerably improved as an actor. Renée Fleming looks convincingly anguished, angry, sad and happy in all the right places but her unwieldy swooping in slow arias (‘Ombre piante’) and singing behind the beat in quick music (‘Spietati, io vi giurai’) obstruct Handel’s phrases; the two principals produce a disappointing mismatch in the duet ‘Io t’abbraccio’.

Iestyn Davies’s intelligent singing and acting make Unulfo an especially likeable confidant to the heroic couple. Joseph Kaiser’s acting of the sorrowful tyrant Grimoaldo undergoing a crisis of confidence (‘Pastorello’) is first-class. Stephanie Blythe’s dependable performance as Eduige proves it is sometimes possible for a versatile singer to switch between Handel and much later Romantic repertoire, and Shenyang shrewdly and skilfully reins in his powerful bass voice as the dastardly Garibaldo (he also gets to ride a real horse onstage). This superbly filmed DVD perhaps lacks the darker emotional edge achieved in Act 1 by Jean-Marie Villégier’s Glyndebourne staging (NVC Arts) but Wadsworth’s amiable production comes to the boil nicely in Acts 2 and 3.