There's an honourable tradition, going back to at least Wagner's Tristan und Isolde, of composers writing themselves into their operas.

In the case of Janacek's Osud (Fate), the result is a work generally regarded as problematic. An imaginative staging, as by David Pountney at ENO in 1984, enables something to be salvaged.

Last night's Prom performance, however, misfired on several counts.

The story revolves around the composer, Zivny, and the woman, Mila, whom he once loved but was forced (by another of Janacek's fierce mother-inlaw figures) to abandon.

Janacek was inspired by an opera singer to write the work but as their friendship cooled, Zivny came to occupy centrestage, while Mila makes no appearance in the third act at all.

This so-called "concert staging" (credited to Annilese Miskimmon) served only to draw attention to the dramaturgical weaknesses of the work.

Nor did it help that it was sung (quite unnecessarily) in a language that only the fluent Czech-speakers in the audience could have understood.

There were also problems of casting, balance and audibility, though the latter may have been more apparent in the hall than on radio.

Most of the time there was no attempt at dramatic engagement between the singers. Frankly it would have been better to keep it that way than to have Mila turn and smile encouragingly at Zivny in one of his jealous rants (the libretto says she should hide her face).

In other respects, Amanda Roocroft's Mila was one of the redeeming features, projecting genuine passion and a sense of the love that had slipped away.

Stefan Margita's Zivny was far less satisfactory: he was briefly effective in the final act, recalling the pain inflicted on him by cruel fate but in his scenes with Mila he was stiff and uningratiating.

Rosalind Plowright, who could develop a terrific line in demented old witches, brought some real class with her portrayal of Mila's mother.

Jirí Belohlavek seems once again to be encouraging the BBCSO to play with an acidulous, edgy tone, which brought out the asperities of the score better than any warmth.