Arguably "The Queen of Bel Canto", Bellini's Norma has presented generations of performers with a myriad of challenges since it first premiered in 1831 - and only a handful have gone down in history as conquerors. Lilli Lehmann's celebrated dictum "rather three Brünnhildes than one Norma" was repeated by Maria Callas who, like her illustrious German colleague, could justifiably draw the comparison.

The title role ideally requires a female voice with a range which extends deep into the chest register of a mezzo or alto (with corresponding "Italianate" chest tones) and a facility at the top which can fearlessly tackle several high C's, (and beyond with interpolated additions), an authoritarian dramatic thrust, coupled with the lyricism and agility demanded by Bellini's Amina or Donizetti's Lucia.

Her rival, Adalgisa, is traditionally cast with a mezzo. Pollione, a Roman consul and virile romantic seducer requires an heroic "bite" to his timbre, while remaining lyrical and flexible. Oroveso (Norma's father), and the supporting roles of Flavio and Clotilde are standard for the period and style.

Even within Bellini's short lifespan (1801-1835) the original orchestral score shows customary cuts, key changes, revisions, contradictions and so on.

Musicologists, Maurizio Biondi and Riccardo Minasi are the forces behind a new edition of the work which is receiving its first staging at Salzburg. They have opened some cuts (which Bellini himself had apparently temporarily initiated), offering the G-major version of "Casta Diva" (which Bonynge and Sutherland preferred some half a century ago), while including the option of the F-major version which was originally used by the role's creator Giuditta Pasta, and regularly chosen by Maria Callas and the great Italian conductor Tullio Serafin. For some ears the G-major version has a distinctly brighter character as opposed to the more solemn and mystical lower key.

Here in Salzburg, the Orchestra La Scintilla employs period instruments to compliment this new edition - which aims at authenticity, following a century and more of an Italian "Romantic and Verismo influence" in interpretations.

The line-up was evidently hand picked for this concept and this setting - the rather intimate Haus für Mozart with a seating capacity approximately fifty per cent of Milan's La Scala. The venue sounded surprisingly resonant and reverberant - and as such, favourable to the voices.

Compared to casts which have included Ponselle, Cigna, Callas, Sutherland, Stignani, Cossoto, Bumbry, Vickers, Domingo, Pavarotti, etc we were presented with a non-traditional palette for the three leads with Cecilia Bartoli undertaking the title role for the first time on stage (a concert version of this edition with Bartoli was presented in 2010 in Dortmund), complimented by the American lyric tenor John Osborn as Pollione, and Mexican lyric soprano Rebeca Olvera as Adalgisa.

Cecilia Bartoli has long broken the official bonds of a lyric mezzo, venturing into higher-lying repertoire (Cosi's Fiordiligi being just one example), demonstrating an extended upper range which in no way has impeded her facility in her mid or lower registers. However, catapulted in this production to the 1940's Fascist era it was hard for this Norma (wearing a dark print dress and raincoat) to establish a true figure in command. Indeed any logical claim to Norma's dominance within this group of scheming Partisans remains elusive in the chosen setting.

Her well-spun "Casta Diva" displayed good line and excellent breath control, and pointed the direction to her "aces" in this portrayal - the slighted lover and doting mother, rather than the ferocious warmonger. Bartoli, however, doesn't shy at pulling out all the stops for the character's big moments (some more effective than others) and generally well utilizes her available palette of dynamics and vocal colours with style and dramatic instinct. The occasional scale work might be cleaner, and the overall interpretation in the first Act trio appears unconvincingly melodramatic and musically repetitive in this uncut version.

"Dormo entrambi.." was probably the evening's highlight - performed alone, with the children off stage and Norma working through the murder in her head - before finally recoiling. Here, Bartoli's emotional expression and line were at their most affecting. The scene was unfortunately somewhat marred by the overhead translation apparatus which decided to spontaneously flash out rainbow colours rather than its programmed German and English texts, resulting in a chuckle from the audience.

"Mira, o Norma" rather lacked magic and intimacy, partly because of Adalgisa's constant swaying and cajoling behind the seated, breastfeeding Norma, and musically marred by the series of acciaturi in the repeat of "Si fino all'ore estreme" during the ascending scales which lent a jocular rather than joyous mood to the duet. "In mia Man" was served more by hissing and spitting of consonants than sheer weight of tone, but Norma's admission of guilt, "Son io" arrived like a slap in the face for Pollione - in full voice, and with a sense of victory.

Most effective, as was the ensuing reunion with Pollione and the finale with Oroveso and ensemble. John Osborn brought an ideal balance (in this context) to Pollione. His opening aria and cabaletta included a touch of vocal heroism, and generally matching his female foils in lyricism and style as the evening progressed. I disliked the production feature of pulling books one by one from a shelf and dropping them on the floor during "Me protegge, me difende..", and the character became all too pathetic in the final act to be likeable or even totally credible.

The idea of casting Adalgisa with a voice which sounds more youthful than Norma makes dramatic sense, and in many respects Rebecca Olvera fulfills the task neatly, with an appealing stage presence and accurate vocal production. One would have occasionally wished for a little more richness in timbre to pad out the character which at times gave the impression that Pollione might be subject to pedophiliac tendencies.

Michele Pertusi's Oroveso was stylish and robust, and the cast was well complimented by Liliana Nikiteanu's Clotilde and Reinaldo Micias' Flavio.

There were clever ideas to this updated version. The activity in the school before the overture begins; the appearance of the Nazi soldiers at a certain point in the score; the idea of the Partisans' brutal killing of Flavio as a prelude to Norma's "Casta Diva" - but the text's recurring references to temples and gods jarred repeatedly and the chorus of boos for the production team, Moshe Leiser and Patrice Caurier, came as little surprise at the final curtain.

La Scintilla, performing on period instruments neither sounded remote nor lean in any way. Full of finesse and detail, they had obviously enjoyed pedantic drilling by Giovanni Antonini, and the occasional fluff in the wind sections almost has to be expected. The chosen tempi were generally fairly standard in the great lyrical scenes, but the cabalette were mostly given particularly brisk treatment - not always to good effect, and occasionally leaning toward triviality rather than complimenting the drama.

Despite its shortcomings, this production is an opportunity to witness a carefully polished ensemble in an all-too-rarely performed masterpiece. It will be repeated during the summer Salzburg Festival.

Cecilia Bartoli has just extended her contract as Director of the Whitsun Festival through 2016. Both in that capacity and here as this production's leading protagonist, this Norma can certainly be considered an undoubted personal success.