Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's Idomeneo premiered in 1781 after a difficult and rigorous composition process that took him many years and many revisions to conclude; then, despite its musical and dramatic innovations, it faded into relative musical obscurity. The opera wasn't even performed in the United States until 1947, and it remains among the more infrequently performed of Mozart's operas. Thus it is belated, but not surprising, that the Boston Lyric Opera's staging of Idomeneo, which opened April 23 at the Shubert Theatre, was the first in the company's history.In Idomeneo, the titular king of this Mozart masterpiece is caught in a storm during his return from Troy to Crete and pledges to Neptune that in return for his life, he will sacrifice the first person he meets on the shore. When this turns out to be his son Idamante, the king brings Neptune's wrath (and a sea monster) upon the citizens of Crete as he attempts to evade his oath. Meanwhile, Trojan princess and prisoner Ilia and the daughter of King Agamemnon, Elettra, are both in love with Idamante, competing with each other and with their own torn emotions for the hand of the prince.

Although the entire cast of Idomeneo was very strong, the clear stars of the night were mezzo-soprano Sandra Piques Eddy in the role of Idamante and soprano Caroline Worra as Elettra. Eddy, a Boston native, played the prince with appropriately royal bearing and youthful vigor, all overlaid with a rich, mellow tone that she had to have exerted incredible effort to cultivate. As a BLO staff member explained, during the orchestra's first rehearsal with Worra, the musicians cheered following the conclusion of "D'Oreste, D'Aiace," the aria during which Elettra goes insane with jealousy and rage. Her performance Wednesday night inspired similar enthusiasm from the audience, which applauded unrestrainedly as she tore offstage, cackling and screaming.

A particular highlight of Wednesday's performance was the quartet sung by Idamante, Elettra, Ilia-played by a graceful and sympathetic Camille Zamora-and Idomeneo, to whom tenor Jason Collins brought the sturm und drang expected of the tortured king. The singers explored a full range of emotions during one of the dramatic peaks of the opera, deftly navigating tricky ensemble moments along the way.

The set and costumes, borrowed from a Glimmerglass Opera production of Gluck's Orpheus and Eurydice, were rich without being overly opulent-although the carved words "et in arcadia ego" on the back wall of the room in which the action of the opera took place were notably in Latin, not in Greek. The choice to clothe Elettra in stark black was a wonderful contrast to the brocades worn by Idomeneo, Ilia and Idamante. Particularly striking was the image of a seemingly endless sea visible through the arch at the back of the stage, and overall, the lighting was quite deft. The only misstep was the strange white felt overcoats worn by the imposing High Priest (Neal Ferreira) and his acolytes, which looked like high-collared winter blankets enveloping the singers.

While there were some moments of orchestral uncertainty and overly driving tempi under the baton of otherwise excellent conductor David Angus, the sole serious problems of the night came with the staging, organized by Lillian Groag. A red rope functioning alternately as chains, a barrier and mere onstage clutter was not the artistic touch it seemed intended as but rather a distraction from the more effective aspects of the staging. When Elettra twined it about herself during an early scene, it resembled nothing so much as fresh intestines, adding a cartoonish touch to what would otherwise have been a stark and deeply effective aria. Similarly, although at the outset I was intrigued by Groag's recasting of the story of Idomeneo as a reenactment during a festival for Neptune, there were some awkward moments as onlookers waved aluminum sheets in unsuccessful attempts to create flashes of light that clashed with highly effective recorded thunder and projected lightning. And the choice to have Elettra rejoin the cast for a triumphant paean to love and marriage after her enraged exit was a jarring and amateur finish to an otherwise emotionally subtle opera.

Lucky, then, that the vocal talents of the cast were more than sufficient to quench the few flaws that the production had in store.