Aix-en-Provence is generally a guarantor of musical excellence and this performance is no exception. Maxim Mironov may not be as well known as Flórez but he is rightly the tenore di grazia of choice for leading Rossini houses much as Nicolai Gedda and Luigi Alva were a generation or so ago. In those days, no bass was capable of singing Mustafà properly, without cuts and with all the notes in place. Marco Vinco, one of a new breed of Rossini basses, is exemplary. Christianne Stotijn is not the most fetching or dynamic of Isabellas but she will “do”.Conductor Riccardo Frizza makes the most of his eight minutes on camera in the overture, play-acting like a fantasy conductor in front of his gramophone before bringing the orchestra to its feet for time-consuming bows and solo plaudits. What follows, however, is taut and well drilled. Space is given for the comedy to flower, though Frizza’s tempo is too quick in the wonderful duet between Isabella and Taddeo “Ai capricci” (the marking is Allegro not Allegro molto) where he appears oblivious to the fact that Rossini’s use of musical form is a key contributor to the comedy (Isabella flattening Taddeo with a rejoinder which also happens to be a sonata-form recapitulation). The duet barely raises a smile from the audience.

A single set does service throughout: an empty stage dominated by a three-story ziggurat that can be transformed into the prow of a three-deck ocean liner at the drop of a painted cloth. For much of the evening there is movement in and around the ziggurat but no production to speak of – unless you count Haly being sent into the audience to sing his chirpy sorbet aria “Le femmine d’Italia”. It is in effect a colourfully costumed concert. That said, director Toni Servillo’s minimalist approach works well in the pivotal Act 2 quintet and climactic Act 2 trio. As stage comedy L’italiana must seem pretty thin stuff to modern audiences, yet the various elements in the Rossini cuisine come together most agreeably in the closing scenes of this Aix production.