This is a lively, alert Sonnambula. And it needs to be, for otherwise the lovely heroine is not the only person who will find occasion to nod off. One enlivening factor in this performance from Lyon is the chorus, who set the tone at the beginning, sounding young and fresh, and managing to persuade us that they will take a keen interest in the events about to unfold. The orchestra, too, play as if the composer’s tentative exploration of the harmonies and textures at his disposal were a charming engagement for the children’s hour. The conductor, Evelino Pid⁄, is assuredly aware of that extra saving grace in the writing: an exquisite sensibility shaping melodies and providing the principal singers with expressive opportunities beyond the literal compass of the score. They for their part also appear to be touched at least from time to time by the fragile power of this strangely dreamlike opera, where, like the sophisticated Count Rodolfo coming upon scenes of his childhood, we rub our eyes, doubtful about the reality of what they see. Supposing, that is, that we have succeeded in staying awake.

Natalie Dessay is a particularly wakeful Amina, bright-voiced in the French tradition, sensitive and intelligent with an energetic capacity for happiness rather than the winsomely wilting little simpleton she is more commonly portrayed as being. Even so, there is not a great deal of imagination in the singing until it comes to the final aria, “Ah, non credea mirarti”, and there Dessay does indeed give a most lovely performance, singing with deep feeling and warm tone. Technically, as expected, she is highly accomplished, but the actual quality of voice is not one I personally find especially beautiful or individual.

The tenor, Francesco Meli, is interesting. At present he has in his voice something of the gently rounded quality which is the one thing missing in Juan Diego Florez, though he hasn’t that singer’s range or mastery of legato. He makes a real character of the bewildered (and inadequate) young lover, as does Carlo Colombara with the more limited opportunities open to him in the role of the Count. The Lisa, Jael Azzaretti, is not one of those who impress as an Amina-in-waiting. Sara Mingardo, by contrast, shines in every phrase of mother Teresa’s music: one only wishes Bellini had given her an aria.