With this new Magic Flute, Longborough Festival Opera comes to the end of its Mozart opera cycle — next year Wagner reigns supreme, with only La bohème getting a look-in alongside no fewer than three Ring cycles. As with LFO’s preceding Mozart productions, direction is in the hands of Jenny Miller, and the conductor is Gianluca Marcianò.

On opening night, an odd contrast in styles quickly became apparent. While light (and beautifully played) textures were coming from the pit, Mario Sofroniou launched into Tamino’s first aria in full-blown, heart on sleeve, Verdian style. This dichotomy between pit and stage extended across the whole, powerfully sung, production, and it took a bit of getting used to.

As Tamino recovers from a brush with death, Papageno the bird-catcher appears. “Don’t judge by first appearances” would be a good maxim for Nicholas Merryweather’s Papageno (pictured): with spiky orange hair and wearing a vacuous grin, he looks a dead ringer for Simple Simon at the panto. But vocally, in a performance that’s a pleasure to listen to, he comes over as an authoritative, level-head character: and there’s plenty of body language on both sides when Papagena (Alice Rose Privett, making the most of her brief opportunity to shine) is revealed in all her youthful beauty.

Meanwhile, Sarastro’s palace is a strange place, resembling a giant garden shed (designer Sophie Mosberger) and occupied by muscular, bare-chested slaves, led by a distinctly weird Monostatos (Benjamin Segal). Director Miller plainly likes a bit of raunchiness; her Three Ladies (Stephanie Corley, Miranda Westcott, Lise Christensen) are clearly on the pull. Sarastro himself (Sasa Cano) looks a bit rough, but seems full of sympathy for the plight of Elizabeth Donovan’s movingly sung Pamina.

It’s difficult to tell what Miller and Marcianò’s overall concept might be — certainly this Flute lacks any sense of magic or the supernatural. But there’s some heartfelt singing to savour nonetheless.