Idomeneo, Grand Theatre, Leeds

What a powerful, original masterpiece this is. Yet, as Richard Mantle points out in the excellent programme, Idomeneo is still comparatively neglected. This is Opera North's first production of it.

It is easy to see why the Da Ponte comedies are more popular. They have charm, catchy tunes galore, and above all they are modern. We readily relate to their characters. Idomeneo belongs to the older, more severe tradition of opera seria. Its story is taken from the mythical, classical past of the Trojan War. It is a work of high seriousness, with, as they say, even fewer jokes than Parsifal. But it is, nevertheless, a masterpiece, with a dramatic and tragic intensity and a musical continuity that Mozart never surpassed.

The story recalls the biblical tales of Abraham and Isaac, and of Jephtha. King Idomeneo, returning to Crete from the Trojan War, has apparently survived shipwreck by promising to sacrifice to the gods the first human being he meets. This turns out to be his son, Idamante, and the king spends much of the opera trying to evade the fulfilment of this terrible vow. In the end the gods relent. But Idomeneo must abdicate, and hand the throne to his son and his beloved, the Trojan princess Ilia.

In Tim Albery's gripping, powerful production the end is bleaker than that. Idomeneo, deprived of his final aria of reconciliation, dies on the same operating table on which he was preparing to kill Idamante, and on which Ilia rests in the opening scene. This is untrue to the sober yet positive Enlightenment note on which the opera ends; but it is wholly consistent with the spirit of the production as a whole, which is sharply focussed on Idomeneo's agonies of guilt and shame.

As the king, Paul Nilon gives what must surely be the performance of his career. From his first entry, he is visibly and audibly filled with doubt and remorse, and the end of Act One, where his people, in brilliantly colourful costumes, celebrate his safe return while he slumps, tormented and silent, in his throne, is positively Shakespearean in its ambivalence.

The other outstanding individual performance came from Janis Kelly as Elettra, in love with Idamante and hopeful, until the denoument, that he will prefer her to Ilia, the foreigner. She presented an absorbing and sympathetic study in emotional and sexual frustration and self-deception.

As Idamante, Paula Hoffman, a newcomer, made a positive impression, and most of her words were clearly audible, which was not true of Natasha Marsh's Ilia. Too many of her words vanished in a blur of often beautiful sound.

David Parry, who provided the new English translation, conducted a sharp-edged and fast-moving performance that properly reflected Mozart's own concern for continuity and dramatic tension. No Greek robes or antique statues were on view in this production. Albery does not allow us the luxury of distancing ourselves from the protagonists and their troubles. It is immediate, believable and ultimately quite chilling. But it also enhances our appreciation of Mozart as one of music's great masters of tragic drama.

Further performances at Theatre Royal, Nottingham (0115 989 5555), tonight and Sat; Grand Theatre, Leeds (0113 222 6222), 27 Feb and 1 March