The opera novice: Verdi's Don Carlo Carlos, haunted by his grandfather King Carlos, is an unhappy figure at court. Kaufmann brings a dark - dare I say it, German - intensity to the role, while allowing for the Infante's boyish skittishness. He reminds me of Hamlet - he even has a Horatio in the form of Rodrigo, Marquis of Posa (Mariusz Kwiecien). Posa, though, is more than a sidekick. He turns into one of Verdi's liberal heroes, taking up the cause of oppressed Flanders. Posa is possibly the most admirable character in the piece - though not, I think, the most musically gripping. Don Carlo is made up of spectacular set pieces. Others will have their favourites but I'll highlight three. The spirit of the Moors hovers over the Spanish Golden Age and Verdi takes full advantage. Princess Eboli (Beatrice Uria-Monzon), Elizabeth's lady-in-waiting, sings an enchanting Saracen song, telling the story of a Sultan bored with his wife who asks a veiled dancer to be his mistress. When she is unveiled the dancer is revealed as his wife - and so desire and duty pleasingly converge. Verdi re-shapes the tropes of this story at the start of act three; but the ending is less happy. Princess Eboli appears at a midnight assignation with Carlos. When she unveils, Carlos is horrified: he thought the Queen was finally succumbing to him. In the next scene the chorus sing a jaunty paen to King Philip (Ferruccio Furlanetto), before the Inquisition arrives to chillingly grave music: they have heretics to burn. The chorus remains cheerful - happy to see the disloyal go up in flames. I rather liked Verdi's cynical representation of the way the populace can be swayed. The grim scene is given humanity by the appeals of the Flanders men under the king's control, appealing for freedom. Philip is implacable - rebellion against him is a rebellion against God - and Carlos is arrested for arguing their cause. Verdi renders superbly counter-reformation Spain's unappealing cocktail of monarchical absolutism and religious bigotry. As the heretics burn, a soprano "high up and in the distance," in Verdi's words, sings they will be redeemed in heaven. The composer also said the auto-da-fé was "without doubt the best thing in the opera." For me, though, the next act gives it a run for its money. We see Philip not as king but as suffering man. Sitting mournfully alone in his study (as the real Philip liked doing), he reflects that his wife does not love him. Enter the Grand Inquisitor (Eric Halfvarson), blind and decrepit, yet fired with an unyielding passion. He tells Philip he must show no mercy to his rebel son Carlos. Philip replies that he cannot be so harsh. "All must be silenced to exalt our faith," demands the Inquisitor. This bass duet was stunning: just thinking of the music gives me the creeps. This was well staged by Nicholas Hytner, as you can see from this clip from the 2008 version of the same production with Halfvarson and Furlanetto. Perhaps it reflects its complicated compositional history, but you get the feeling that not all Don Carlo's loose ends were tied up at the finale. The Elizabeth and Carlos duet was wonderful but when the ghost of old King Carlos appears and takes his grandson to heaven, it was a bit out of the blue. Don Carlo, however, has absolutely everything an opera-lover could wish for: charismatic characters, clashes of ideals and glorious musical set pieces that always retain human interest. It resists summary. Do catch it if you can. The Magic Flute is more than a crowd-pleaser Read how Sameer got into opera Parsifal: Farewell to love La Traviata: the tale of the fallen woman The Mikado is a delightful confection Birtwistle's Minatour has all the power of a Greek tragedy Even dancing zombie nuns can't revive Meyerbeer Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro: perfect operatic theatre Indulge yourself in La Boheme Mozart's Don Giovanni The epic world of Wagner's Ring Holding my breath for the Ring Eugene Onegin perfectly captures teenage angst Verdi's Othello is a grand masterpiece - but why does the lead black up? Puccini's Gianni Schicchi shows opera can be funny Britten's Billy Budd takes the breath away Salome by Richard Strauss: a Biblical family romance Glyndebourne is special but opera can inspire on a small scale Horsing around with Verdi's Falstaff Einstein on the Beach is no picnic The Flying Dutchman is more than a storm in a teacup Can a non-Christian appreciate the St Matthew Passion? From Grand Theft Auto to Rigoletto The Barber of Seville by Rossini Tristan and Isolde by Richard Wagner The Death of Klinghoffer by John Adams and Alice Goodman Bellini's Norma: the soprano's art Mozart's Così fan tutte: We're all like that Passion for Puccini's Tosca The sombre romance of Der Rosenkavalier