Armida, Usher Hall

Clearly, this was it. Sooner or later in the Edinburgh Festival, something happens that will stand out in the memory. It's not always exactly what you would expect; a concert performance of Armida, one of the forgotten serious operas written by Rossini for Naples, might have seemed unpromising. After all, it requires six first-rate tenors and a florid and dramatic soprano to die for, with an orchestra that can supply concerto-level soloists on horn, clarinet, piccolo, harp, violin and cello. Miraculously, all of these were found, and then some.

But even if they hadn't been, the astonishing Cecilia Gasdia, singing the role created by Rossini's future wife, would have carried the evening. Admittedly, her coloratura was leggiero rather than brilliant, but she threw herself into the acting with a real barnstorming spirit, and in her recitatives she truly spoke in song. Throughout, she dominated the performance; she smiled ironically, tossed her head in defiance, waved her hands, turned her back, and when not singing she sulked on the edge of her chair or gazed at the chorus. This was temperamental prima donna stuff – sexy, insolent, overwhelming.

Of course, the plot of the opera is nonsense. The performers need to have fun and make the most of the absurdity. Bruce Ford, however, did his best to be serious, his elegant tenor making the heroic lover Rinaldo into a man of feeling and pathos, in spite of the character's wimpish indecision. He was intensely moving in the duet "Soavi catene", with Ruth Crouch's eloquent violin solo.

And then, all those tenors: Barry Banks kicked off as Goffredo, sounding fresh and incisive in this very high part. Campbell Russell was weightier as Eustazio; as Rinaldo's antagonist Gernando, Kenneth Tarver added a tight, exciting shimmer to a tone of great purity. In the trio (three tenors are nothing new) Paul Austin Kelly and Norman Shankle, joining Ford, had the right heroic edge. The only bass, John Relyea, continued to impress with an enormous, dark voice that has already been heard several times this Festival.

Carlo Rizzi's powerful tempos created just the environment for principals and orchestra to move and relax. The Scottish Chamber Orchestra sometimes sounded a bit puzzled by Rossini's odd instrumentation, but the chorus of Scottish Opera were in turns soldierly and seductive. This was opera for enjoyment, supreme charlatanry with no pretence of deep significance. In other words, pure Rossini.