To say that they were slightly perturbed by the festivities and activities on their front lawn for the last fortnight is an understatement.

For everyone else, the audible and visual presence of the peacocks on the grounds was just one additional titivation in the fairytale of the festival at the castle.

Kurt Weill's Der Silbersee, as directed by Keith Warner, enjoyed the infinite benefits of a very effective set and elaborate lighting design that allowed Warner's cast to use movement, from the chaotic to the subtle, to the infinite possibilities of symbolism. In this respect the chorus, and especially in its capacity as Olim's conscience, was employed most usefully. In general, however, the pantomime-worthy overacting was dizzying and often guilty of sullying serious psychological interplays. In general, the awkward bridge between musical theatre and theatre on which this work teeters was the presentation's downfall for many roles were miscast and not only in terms of their singing ability.

The more mainstream offering at the festival, Rusalka, introduced Wexford to director, Lee Blakeley and was a most charming introduction. The direction here was elegantly seamless. The personification of the moon, in the form of acrobat David Greeves was far from a mere visual stunt . . . it emphasised a sense of space, both physical and symbolical, between murky depths and dreamy heights and commented subtly on the theme of the fragile balance of nature versus man that Blakeley drew attention to in other elements of the presentation.

The dark imagery of trapped souls and tortured bodies, which opened the third act, was a perfect hook on which to hang the ensuing tragedy. Helena Kaupoya (Rusalka), Bryan Hymel (Prince) and Katerina Jalocova (Jezibaba) boasted the best vocal abilities I heard all weekend and the orchestra, under Dmitri Jurowski, gave a terrific performance of Dvorak's wonderful score. I will be surprised if this production doesn't pick up an award, or awards, for its troubles.

Pulcinella/ Arlecchino was a comedic treat for audiences at Johnstown Castle. Director, Lucio Dalla went to great lengths to achieve the anarchic chaos of his production, to the point of even poking fun at the audience before they had a chance to take their seats. First dancer in Pulcinella, Alessandro Riga, very much justified the hype surrounding his abilities and the frenetic pace of the choreography was no problem for him and the other dancers. Marco Alemanno gave us the cheekiest and sassiest Arlecchino possible, oozing defiance and arrogance.

Costumes and acting all pointed to the tongue in cheek anarchy of Busoni's own libretto, an anarchy which Dalla took to altogether new levels of humour in his modernising of the tale. Well aware of the expectations of an operatic audience, which the gigantic mirror backdrop to Arlecchinomight have pointed to, the double-presentation exuded a laudable arrogance and nonchalance.

The shortworks were all very well received at Dun Mhuire Theatre. Donizetti's Rita was hilarious and carefree and Lauren Curnow in La Voix Humaine (Poulenc) gave an engaging and very moving portrayal of her desperate jilted character. Andrew Steggall faced the toughest task of all in his direction of La Tragedie de Carmen, Peter Brook's adapatation of Bizet's opera. He was brave in his innovative approach to the famous tale but inconsistencies in character development, sometimes the fault of his actors, left me unconvinced.

His use of shadow-play was most effective, as was the tracked narration but while the film noirinspired stillness and silence infused certain onstage tensions, ultimately, the concept of Carmen as femme fatale was not persuasively conveyed. I would hope that Steggall is dealt an easier hand if, or when, he returns to the festival.