A rare Rossini opera has been revived as a vehicle for star mezzo Stephanie Blythe. It turns out to have many additional merits.

Who would suspect that an opera written in 1813 would relate to today’s international events? Yet Gioachino Rossini’s Tancredi, based on Voltaire’s 1760 play of the same name, involves warfare between Muslim Saracen armies from the Middle East and the western Christian powers.

The libretto specifies the years shortly after the Crusades, when East-West hostility was rampant and Saracen was the uncomplimentary name applied to Muslim Arabs. The designer and director here updated the setting to the 20th century, when they could have achieved more immediacy by replicating the 21st. For reasons which elude me, they chose to set it in the era of World War I.

The main set resembles the palace at Versailles, which was the locale for the peace conference after the Great War, although the building dates from the 17th century. Elaborate military uniforms are worn by many characters, similar to what some German and Austrian generals wore during that war, but actually more reminiscent of the Napoleonic era.

Since Rossini composed the opera one year after Napoleon’s momentous defeat, I wish the director had chosen 1812-1813. Accepting the directorial choice, the staging does have some striking scenes. Yet there are other, better reasons to hail this production.

Rossini is known for his comic operas like The Barber of Seville, La Cenerentola and The Italian Girl in Algiers, and hardly anyone recalls that he rose to fame at age 21 with this serious drama. Opera Philadelphia has provided a major revelation.

It’s a dark story of a soldier from Sicily who supposedly allied himself with the Saracens, went into exile in their land, then returned—supposedly—to lead a battle against his people. That’s what the Sicilian nobles believed, based on an intercepted letter to Tancredi from his sweetheart Amenaide, who was the daughter of the Senate leader Argiro. The letter was mistaken as an invitation to the Saracen commander. All the Sicilians were appalled, even Tancredi.

Family politics forces Amenaide into marriage with a man she doesn’t like, Orbazzano. When Tancredi learns of this he’s angry that Amenaide has been unfaithful. Meanwhile, everyone in Sicily believes that Amenaide’s a traitor because she corresponded with someone on the enemy side. Her father disowns Amenaide and signs an order for her execution. The poor lady is alone, despised by everyone.

The conflicted Argiro agrees to allow a champion to duel Amenaide’s husband in an attempt to save her life. The disguised Tancredi volunteers for the task, wins the fight, and goes on to lead the Sicilian army to victory over the Saracens. That could have been the happy end to this opera. But no, that’s not how Voltaire’s story ended.

Rossini tacked on a festive ending with a catchy chorus for the 1813 premiere. For a later production he removed the happy finale and composed a tragic ending. Tancredi’s army wins the battle but he is fatally wounded. This sad final scene was not discovered until 1977 and it’s what Corrado Rovaris led in this production.

The unusual opera was selected as a star vehicle in which the respected Blythe could play the trousers role of Tancredi. She made a powerful impression, justifying the choice—and making one yearn for productions in major houses, and for a recording. Her voice is like a majestic organ, swelling with rich tone and volume. She has a baritone-like timbre which helps the audience accept her as a male warrior. From her highest notes to her lowest, her voice is seamless, with no shifting between registers. Her projection is outstanding.

The musical merits of the production extended far beyond Blythe’s performance. Brenda Rae as Amenaide scored a star-making impression, with an affecting lyric quality above and beyond her ability to sing cascades of coloratura roulades. As her father Argirio, the tenor Michele Angelini impressed with his refinement as he navigated a florid variety of emotions and melodies. His arias were the most dazzling of the evening. Another star has arrived.

The dependable baritone Daniel Mobbs was Orbazzano, while the current Academy of Vocal Arts student Allegra De Vita contributed nicely as Amenaide’s best friend and Anastasiia Sidorova handled the smaller role of Tancredi’s attendant. Conductor Corrado Rovaris deserves immense credit for coaching these artists in this unfamiliar work and achieving a precise melding of voices in the numerous duets that are the heart of the opera. They were subtle and affecting. The chorus was better than I’ve ever heard at a Philadelphia opera production; the male ensemble in particular was powerful.

The complicated (and sometimes baffling) story keeps Tancredi from being performed at major opera houses, but Rossini’s music is quite refined and lovely. Rossini’s tragic ending is unusual in its starkness. Most of the singing was accompanied only by a solo keyboard, then Rossini wrote quiet string tremolos as Tancredi died in his lover’s arms.

The sets by Daniel Bianco were problematic. They supposedly portrayed Sicily around the time of World War I. But the massive rooms with high windows looked more ostentatious than anything you’ll see in that country. Their towering presence, and a colossal funereal monument in the final scene, dwarfed the players and reduced the intimacy of the opera. So did the processions of dinner guests and other wandering crowds in several scenes.

These distractions were minor blips; Opera Philadelphia scored a major achievement in presenting such an accomplished performance of a rare work. The company is striking an excellent balance these days, between standards, new compositions, and rarities by old masters such as this.