It's all down to the breathing

"Breathe!" shouted a Royal Opera chorus director. It's a good guide to life, but no harm reminding. We were being drilled in Nessun Dorma, the world's most famous aria especially if there's a football in the air. The task, surprisingly difficult, confirmed me in my instinct not to become an Italian tenor.

With a production as venerable as this Turandot, mounted in 1984 by Andrei Serban, some end-of-season novelty is allowed. Since the performance was being relayed to Covent Garden Piazza and Big Screens nationwide, the sing-along offered a lively warm-up for the massed crowds, who engaged with nervous enthusiasm.

Inside, all was more confident. This umpteenth revival, despite some wobbly one-foot choreography, had regained much of its old glamour, having looked frayed of late. The chorus had energy, if not always finesse, and Stefan Soltesz, conducting, drove the piece hard and loud. But in Turandot subtlety solves no riddles, so this was an effective approach.

Georgina Lukács in the title role had terrifying volume and presence though her Italian was decidedly Hungarian. Eleni Kelessidi's Liù combined sap and fragility. Ping, Pang and Pong enacted their cruel, skull-tossing China tease ceremony expertly and Ben Heppner showed he can sing Vincerò as well as any. It's all down to the breathing.

In rep until 22 July. Information: 020 7304 4000.

Turandot