This is a welcome addition to the list of performances of Sutherland on video as it finds her on something like her best form‚ not always the case in the Australian performances recorded late in her career. The production‚ by Elijah Moshinsky‚ is vastly superior to the same director’s disappointing staging at Covent Garden recently. With large evocative gauzes by Sidney Nolan‚ used as backcloths (as with his Covent Garden Samson et Dalila)‚ appealing 19th­century costumes by Lucian Arrighi‚ and Moshinsky’s animated‚ effectively spotlit tableaux‚ the eye is well­served‚ with the excetion of the Convent scene which really needs a wider perspective (perversely‚ this was the one scene that looked arresting at the Royal Opera). In this milieu Moshinsky directs his principals with his usual discernment. He could not‚ of course‚ attempt anything unconventional with his prima donna‚ but Sutherland does convention uncommonly well‚ expressing emotion through minimal gestures and expressive eyes. She could have had a worthy career devoting herself to Verdi‚ but chose otherwise. It is good to hear her realising the music Verdi wrote for his heroine with full tone‚ grand phrasing and‚ where called for‚ much of her well­known skill as regards technique and coloratura – her last­act aria gives the best evidence of that. If the diva’s lower voice was by her late fifties rather threadbare‚ the top here rings firmly and truly. As her troubadour she has that sterling English tenor Kenneth Collins‚ singing with the innate strength and honesty that were always his hallmarks in early and mid­Verdi. Nothing in Manrico’s role is shirked‚ everything is idiomatically phrased. His stage presence leaves something to be desired but that can be overlooked given the true spinto sound of his voice. The more convincing pair are‚ however‚ Jonathan Summers as Luna and Lauris Elms as Azucena‚ both at different times much admired in this country. As with all he has ever done‚ Summers’ is an utterly involved and believable assumption delivered in palpably Verdian terms with no skimping. Elms may not have the ideal weight for her role‚ but she gives such a thought­through‚ noble‚ dignified yet suitably obsessive portrayal that the missing decibels hardly matter. Yet another Australian artist working at one time in Britain‚ Donald Shanks‚ is a sturdy Ferrando. Bonynge is in energetic form in the pit‚ and always aware of how to give his singers room to phrase with feeling. The sound leaves something to be desired: it is fuzzy from time to time. The video direction is also a bit hit­and­miss. Neither reservation causes me to withhold a recommendation.