<<  -- 8 --  Roderic Dunnett    FRESH AND ENGAGING

Chisinau's orchestra is especially well led at present by Igor Ersac, whose solos in both Carmen and Turandot were both sensitive and unobtrusive. But above all, this orchestra plays well for the St Petersburg (Leningrad)-trained Alexandru Samoila. Some superb string playing in Act I (shades, almost, of Strauss's Death and Transfiguration); fine muted trumpet, like mournful Shostakovich; mysterious, Bergian chords for the gentle nocturne that precedes the Liu and Timur scene; the pentatonic-sounding Emperor's entry brass fanfare; soft, sad bassoon doubling Turandot's line (later picked up by Calaf) in the fateful exchange; deft doublings of first and second violins, descending in easy arpeggios; unvibratoed flute (or piccolo) whining in sympathy with Liu's demise; sad Debussian woodwind and rocking chromatics to underline Turandot's own sense of foreboding that her posturings are indeed over; or the cherishing brass surge at her inspired line of submission : 'His name is love.' This was inspired playing from all departments, some of the best I have heard yet from these Moldovan players.

But it was designer Alexander Okun whose achievement made everything possible. Everything, from the small pagoda seen at the start of Act II to Calaf's changing outfit -- gorgeous combinations of whites and purples -- and the tiniest detail of Turandot's blazing regalia seemed painstakingly planned and beautifully executed. In the UK, Covent Garden apart (plus, to be fair, Scottish Opera's Dalibor and WNO's Hansel and Gretel and The Queen of Spades), I haven't seen as visually gratifying a production in years.