A mood of elegy tinged ENO's revival of Steven Pimlott's staging of La Bohème. Pimlott, one of Britain's most versatile directors, died last week aged 53.

Nicholas Hytner, a lifelong friend and colleague - they were ENO staff producers in the 1970s fresh out of Cambridge - spoke in a warm tribute of a man who could turn his hand equally to Bombay Dreams or Puccini, bringing enlightenment and wit to both.

Hytner's chief concern was to let last night's audience know "just how much Pimlott was adored" by all his colleagues.

That affection added tangible poignancy to a performance in which every member of the company, including each child in the chorus, gave their best.

Busy working on The Rose Tattoo at the National at the time of his death, Pimlott had left the revival to Ian Rutherford, who successfully restored the bristling, youthful energy of the 1993 original.

The Bohemians of the title, though poor, treat life's minor troubles with fraternal joshing and irony. Mimi's tragedy flattens them like a sudden avalanche.

This is a Bohème in which tears are sharpened by laughter. Women remain outsiders, emphasised by Tobias Hoheisel's divided set in which Mimi and Musetta exist in shadow, only finding warmth and light in the men's garret.

This was a fine ensemble performance, led by Mary Plazas as Mimi. Her doll-like fragility combined with vocal stamina make her a figure of true pathos.

Yet the moment which silences the audience is not so much her death scene as the rapturous Act I declaration of love, which begins with Rodolfo's "Your tiny hand is frozen".

The poet-lover, convincingly sung by Peter Auty, displayed ardour and assurance, with no unwelcome heroics.

Mark Stone's Marcello and Giselle Allen's Musetta provided gutsy, bickering contrast.

Matthew Rose, a young bass rapidly graduating to mature artist, excelled as Colline, first mere lumbering chum and then, in his tender aria to his old coat, eloquent philosopher.

American-Chinese conductor, Xian Zhang, fanfared wherever she goes, made an impressive house debut. Never rushed, she drew a spacious, powerfully emotional account from orchestra and singers alike.

Peter Brook once talked about the ghosts which inhabit the very fabric of a theatre, there to be called down by each new generation of performers. The animating spirit of Steven Pimlott gave this performance unique and enduring vitality.

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