Barenboim here completes his recordings of Wagner’s mature operas with a traversal of the storm-tossed score that, as far as his conducting is concerned, almost equals the best among previous readings. At once big-boned and intensely dramatic, it has a driving force, at rather faster speeds than many sets, that is commanding in its control of detail and structure. With his own Berlin State Opera forces offering faithful and acutely accented support – the chorus, so important here, in particularly fine form – this is a version that catches much of the theatrical excitement found on most of the recordings emanating from Bayreuth.

He chooses to perform the original Dresden version while incorporating the instrumental improvements Wagner made later in his career. He also restores Senta’s ballad to its original key of A minor. He sometimes is so caught up with the drama that his groans become audible. With a sound perspective fully up to the standard of Barenboim’s recent Tannhäuser set (5/02), we have a firm basis for a satisfying execution of all Wagner’s exigent demands on his performers.

Unfortunately, not all the singing attains a similar standard. Falk Struckmann is certainly a Dutchman to be reckoned alongside the most convincing portrayals on disc. His voice, reminiscent of Theo Adam’s grainy, tense tone on the Klemperer set, matches all the role’s appreciable demands. His monologue has all the anguish and poignancy one could wish for, with the text really made to tell, and his departure is properly desperate. Only at the beginning of the love duet, ‘Wie aus der Ferne’, does he miss something of the haunted quality called for, eschewing the hushed tones of the most convincing interpreters as this point. He may not have been inspired by Jane Eaglen’s middling Senta – listen to Rysanek and London’s inspired singing at Bayreuth on Myto (nla) if you can find this set under Sawallisch, or Adam and Silja under Klemperer to hear just how arresting this music can sound.

Much of Eaglen’s reading of her part hassensitivity and even inwardness, and she catches some of the girl’s single-minded desperation. But in the part’s more strenuous moments, especially in the higher registers of her voice, her singing now sounds strained and unacceptably threadbare, no match for the more notable among her predecessors in the role.

As Daland, Robert Holl offers some sturdy singing but his tone has become sadly dulled and grey, particularly as compared with that of, say, Weber (Keilberth) or Talvela (Klemperer) in this role. As on the sure-footed Steinberg set, Seiffert is a more-than-capable Erik, but his voice isn’t quite as pleasing to the ear as it was 10 years ago. The Steersman of Villazon, a new young Mexican tenor with a potentially glorious voice, and Felicity Palmer’s vital Mary are both excellent, but you won’t buy a version for their contributions alone.

Among modern sets, I would place this above the Dohnányi by virtue of its extra sense of the theatre. But Klemperer’s more measured, grander reading, in its new Great Recordings of the Century guise, is far better cast all-round – particularly Silja as Senta – and the mono 1955 Keilberth set has a visceral excitement and superb principals that defy passing time. Were Music and Arts to make available thealternative 1955 Bayreuth set, conducted by Knappertsbusch, it would be my outright recommendation. Still, if you can overlook some vocal vagaries, Barenboim’s considered performance is a force to be reckoned with.