This is an uncommonly interesting examination of how a great Handel opera may be performed without insisting that only Baroque specialists need appl y. Some of the singers here are not obvious Handelians: Elizabeth Norberg­Schulz has something of the attack and occasionally the cutting edge of a lyric­dramatic soprano‚ while Thomas Randle quite often puts his voice under pressure in response to the extreme demands of Handel’s first and most intensely dramatic major tenor role. And yet one hardly ever wishes for more ‘authentic’ voices. Both singers are very musical‚ well aware of the requirements of Handel’s style; both‚ especially Randle‚ are highly accomplished actors – it is a minor but significant point that when either of them was on screen I neither watched nor needed the subtitles. Both‚ not wholly irrelevantly‚ are strikingly handsome. That they are able to be so effective is in large part due to Jonathan Miller’s very plain but highly intelligent production‚ to Trevor Pinnock’s alert and sympathetic direction and to the wonderfully intimate theatre at Bad Lauchstadt where the opera was filmed (Goethe was largely responsible for its design; it seats fewer than 600). The set is basic – a few mottled gold panels – the costumes (borrowed from Miller’s earlier production of Tamerlano at Glimmerglass) are sumptuous‚ but in a theatre this size everyone in the audience can see facial expressions and the slightest gestures‚ and Miller has concentrated his direction on this. The result‚ at such a moment as when Bajazet and his daughter Asteria resolve on suicide rather than further humiliation by Tamerlano (‘If you reach Lethe first‚ wait for me there’‚ each tenderly asks) is intensely moving‚ as is the exquisite duet in which Asteria and her lover Andronico (Graham Pushee‚ a countertenor who excels at delicate shadings and intimate expression) vow that their love will even survive her death. Handelian voices or no‚ it is in short an utterly Handelian performance. I must say that I would have preferred another and a more forceful countertenor in the title role. Monica Bacelli’s face is as sweetly pretty as her voice‚ and neither her snarls nor her would­be evil leers through her Fu­Manchu moustache are in the slightest degree convincing. In the awkward role of Irene (betrothed to Tamerlano she must complaisantly marry him at the end‚ despite all his evil deeds and prolonged assault on Asteria’s virtue) Anna Bonitatibus’s tawny voice and brilliant coloratura are a great asset; Antonio Abete brings dignity and the welcome change of a bass voice to the brief and almost irrelevant role of Leone. The orchestra is splendid and Pinnock’s pacing of the drama ideal. The two discs also contain a vast amount of supplementary material: a 40­minute documentary about this production‚ 50 minutes of rather stiff interviews about the Halle Handel Festival and its history‚ a complete list of everything that has ever been done there and 40 minutes of archive film from earlier festivals (from Messiah in German by massed choirs to a recent and vile­looking production of Rodrigo). Interesting‚ but not the sort of thing you’d want to watch often‚ and without it the opera could have been accommodated on a single disc. The full score is another accessible option; it appears screen­sized with the stage picture as a ghostly image behind. At 192 minutes the opera has been slightly but not really damagingly cut.