Handel's enchantment

The lead character in Handel's opera Alcina is at once the embodiment of everything his age rejected and one of his most sympathetic female creations.

Her enchanted realm, with its monsters and Furies, symbolises all the irrational instincts, fears and superstitions that the Enlightenment was determined to sweep away.

That paradox is precisely what makes Alcina the fascinating work it is, a fact brilliantly exploited by David McVicar in his revived production at ENO. The advance and eventual triumph of the Enlightenment are depicted not only by the scientific instruments deployed by Melisso, a tutor, but also by the piles of books gradually encroaching further across the stage.

Deception, ambivalence and sorcery are reflected in flamboyant cross-dressing, while various distancing devices - notably visible theatrical machinery and the incorporation of an 18th century "audience" into the production - put ironic, postmodernist quotation marks round the realms of enchantment and reason alike.

What makes McVicar's staging so effective and moving, however, is the way he causes this theatricality to intersect with the emotional complexity embodied in the music. The character of Alcina - passionate woman rather than heartless monster, and prey to despair and insecurity just like the rest of us - is projected in a sequence of magnificent arias, wonderfully delivered by

Lisa Milne, who takes capable charge of the title role. But the power of her delivery is enhanced immeasurably by McVicar's deployment of a troupe of dancers (choreography by Michael Keegan-Dolan, revived by Sarah Barron), whose contortions - leaping, writhing, trembling - are an empathetic visualisation of the singer's emotions.

Superb as Milne is - and she develops in stature throughout the evening - she is supported by a strong cast. The role of her sister, Morgana, is taken by Laura Claycomb, whose curtain aria to Act 1 was dispatched with coloratura ornamentation worthy of a Queen of Night, while Ruggiero (her latest victim) is sung by the American mezzo Deanne Meek, also making a confident and impressive ENO debut.

Ruggiero's temporarily deserted betrothed, Bradamante, is played by Charlotte Hellekant, who seizes the opportunities afforded by her brilliant arias, while the roles of Melisso, Oronte and Oberto are well taken by Mark Richardson, Andrew Mackenzie-Wicks and Gail Pearson.

Taking over from Charles Mackerras in the pit is Richard Hickox, a conductor often associated with big Romantic scores but who knows his Handel as well.

Indeed, he recorded this work nearly two decades ago and continues to bring to it both stylistic integrity and an unerring sensitivity to the play of its passions.