To close La Scala before its three-year refurbishment, Riccardo Muti elected to stage Otello and invited Graham Vick to direct it. He rewarded the maestro with one of his most intelligent, detailed and involving productions, housed in Ezio Frigero’s superbly crafted and atmospheric unit-set and clothed by Franca Squarciapino’s traditional, beautifully wrought costumes. Here is proof, if proof were needed, that setting an opera in its period still works best provided you have such sensitive hands in control. Just one example: the way Vick has Desdemona gradually collapse to the ground at ‘A terra’ in Act 3, illustrates how Vick has got into the heart of Boito’s and Verdi’s thoughts.

Elsewhere, his thoughtful, often revelatory, handling of his principals often lent a new dimension to the work, especially when he was working with such eloquent singing actors as Plácido Domingo and Barbara Frittoli; indeed, I have never felt so strongly the passion engendered by the fated lovers – blissful in Act 1, desperately tormented in Act 3.

At this late stage in his career Domingo was able to compensate for a voice that doesn’t always obey his exemplary instincts with a portrayal of the Moor that moved me more than any of his efforts I had previously encountered. His projection of his own near-disbelief in his agony and jealousy in Act 3, and again before the murder, is deeply affecting. So are Frittoli’s facial expressions and body language, yielding and erotic in Act 1, making her Act 3 and final disillusion that much more terrifying to behold. Vocally Domingo sings with even more variety of dynamic and timbre than before. His pent-up fury in the big ensemble is truly frightening. Frittoli sings with many shades of tone and exquisite phrasing throughout, not least in her Act 4 solos, which she enacts with searing emotion.

Leo Nucci’s penny-plain, dully sung Iago is not in the same league, and the young tenor taking Cassio lacks the requisite sweetness in the voice. The Emilia is admirable, as are the two basses. Muti is as usual keen on the letter of the score, though why he prefers the 1894 Paris revision of the concertato in Act 3 is beyond me. Some of his tempi in Act 2 are unwontedly fast, maybe to accommodate Domingo’s lessening powers, which mean the central Farewell to Arms, Iago’s Dream and the vengeance duet pass by without making their mark. Elsewhere, he leads the drama to its dreadful conclusion with his customary brio and care for incidentals.

The video direction and the sound picture leave nothing to be desired. This is the only modern-day DVD-Video of Otello worth having at present. In spite of the weak Iago, it is more than worthy of Verdi’s masterpiece – and demands to be seen and heard.