Rameau, despite his late start – Hippolyte et Aricie was composed when he was 50 – was an experienced man of the theatre by the time he embarked on Zoroastre. It was not a great success, however, and Rameau and his librettist set to work on a revision, so extensive as to constitute almost a different opera, which appeared just over six years later in 1756. It is this later version, also recorded on CD by William Christie (Erato, 5/03), that is performed here.

The story is full of Masonic symbolism. Zoroastre is the representative of Orosmade, the god of light (Ahuramazda, whence the electric lightbulb), pitted against Abramane, high priest of Arimane, the spirit of darkness. Zoroastre loves Amélite, and is loved in return; Erinice, Amélite’s rival both for Zoroastre’s love and for the throne of Bactria, has joined forces with Abramane. Inspired by Oromasès, king of the Genii, Zoroastre triumphs and the forces of darkness are swallowed up in “the bowels of the earth”.

This production from the 18th-century palace of Drottningholm, outside Stockholm, affords a mixture of pleasure and pain. It’s beautifully dressed, the forces of light and dark being in appropriate colours. Pierre Audi’s stage direction is appropriate, too: stylish for the most part (rather too much laughter of the “he-he-he” variety from the baddies), and with facial expressions that make you feel for the characters. The dancing is the hand-wringing, finger-wagging hopping and skipping that I find pretty resistible.

The most interesting character is Erinice who, like Mozart’s Electra or Verdi’s Abigaille, behaves as she does because her love is unrequited. Anna Maria Panzarella “bends” the notes for expressive ends: a risky procedure, but one that comes off. Unfortunately, the suspect intonation of the Zoroastre and Abramane is merely painful: what a pity that the title-role was not taken by Paul Agnew or Yann Beuron. Sine Bundgaard delivers Amélite’s first air with great sweetness, a quality also to be found in Ditte Andersen’s Céphie.

Chorus and orchestra perform with verve, though the former are all over the place in “Sommeil, fuis de ce séjour”. The opera is given almost complete but the “Tambourin en rondeau”, an old Radio 3 signature tune, is relegated to the curtain calls. A disappointing issue, but useful until a better version appears.