Les Arts Florissants, the French company, led by William Christie, which breathes fresh life into, in some cases, all-but-forgotten masterpieces of the 17^th and 18^th centuries, has brought its production of George Frideric Handel’s English-language rarity Hercules , a joint effort of the Aix-en-Provence Festival, the Opéra de Paris, and the Wiener Festwochen, to the Howard Gilman Opera House at Brooklyn Academy of Music this month. The modern-dress production, directed by Luc Bondy and designed by Richard Peduzzi (sets), Rudy Sabounghi (costumes) and Dominque Bruguière (lighting), is stylized, the action played out on a sand pit, with a broken statue of Hercules invariably the sole set piece, but the emotions are realistic and powerful and the singing and orchestral playing, guided by Christie, are exquisite.

Despite the title, the evening belongs not to Hercules, also called Alcides and portrayed by baritone William Shimell, but to the hero’s wife, Dejanira--mezzo-soprano Joyce DiDonato--whose jealousy, stirred by his prisoner, the foreign princess Iole--soprano Ingela Bohlin--leads to Hercules’ death, undone by a coat, streaked with the blood of the centaur Nessus, wreaking revenge from beyond the grave, that eats into his vitals, much as the one Medea sent to sear those of her mate, Jason’s new bride.

Shimell dispatched his assignment sturdily, greeting his people and celebrating his triumphs before greeting the grieving wife he had abandoned for so long, ignoring her as he announced he was giving up war, and writhing through a graphic death scene (“I rage”). In wide-ranging coloratura arias, skillfully executed, DiDonato demonstrates the extremes of Dejanira’s emotions, moving us with her despairing elegies (“The world, when day’s career is run,” “There, in myrtle shades”); startling with her sudden joy as gloom falls away (“Begone, my fears fly hence”); impressing with her dramatic sense when, seized by jealousy (“When beauty sorrow’s liv’ry wears”) and taunting the husband she thinks faithless and stripping away his uniform (“Resign thy club, and lion’ s spoils”), she allows her lovely instrument to turn harsh and husky; and bringing her tour-de-force to a close with a tragic, frantic mad scene (“ Where shall I fly?”), which leaves her sitting in the sand, rocking back and forth. Even when Bohlin’s Iole sings a soft, sympathetic aria (“ My breast with tender pity swells”), our eyes remain riveted on DiDonato, swaying in her madness.

It is clear early on that, even while mourning father and fate in funereal and florid arias, bright-voiced Bohlin’s captive Iole has captivated both father, Hercules, and son, Hyllus—tenor Ed Lyon, embellishing his arias with ornaments that take him up into head voice, and scarcely discouraged though Iole spurns his love and maligns his masculinity (“Banish love from thy breast/’tis a womanish guest”). Lyric mezzo-soprano Katija Dragojevic as Lichas, who informs the chorus about Dejanira’s dejection, cautions her about her jealousy, and has the misfortune to bring the poisoned coat to Hercules, completes the quintet of principals admirably. Resonant bass-baritone Simon Kirkbride makes a cameo appearance as the Priest of Jupiter.

In the midst of the many arias there are but two duets, both at least apparently jubilant—“Joys of freedom,” for DiDonato’s Dejanira and Bohlin’s Iole, when the former feigns conquering her jealousy, and “O prince, whose virtues all admire,” when, bowing to Jove’s decree, the soprano’s Iole consents to wed and reign jointly with Lyon’s Hyllus.

Christie’s excellent Arts Florissants chorus celebrates the return of Hercules, ominously warns Dejanira of the consequences of jealousy, plaintively predicts the dreaded outcome of Hercules’ demise, and sings final praises to the legendary hero, ascended to Olympus.

William Shimell as Hercules (center). Photo by Jack Vartoogian.

Brooklyn Academy of Music, 30 Lafayette Avenue

February 14, 16 & 18 at 7:30 pm & 19 at 3 pm

Tickets (14 & 16) $35, 75, 110 & 135

(18 & 19) $45, 85, 125 & 150