In spring 1997, the Holy Grail arrived in St Petersburg, when a new production of Parsifal opened at the Kirov. The restoration of Wagner to a strong position in the Russian repertoire has been central to Valery Gergiev's drive to return his company to a position of prominence. Parsifal was the work chosen to launch his project (there will be a new Ring next year) and its appearance caused something of a stir.

It seems that Gergiev has a way to go in creating a Wagnerian ensemble. Orchestrally, things were awesome. The whole vibrates with translucent textures and chromatic sensuousness. Gergiev's pacing is ideal. He's admirably strong on the interplay and parallels between the opera's two worlds - the mystic elite of the Grail Castle and Klingsor's floral brothel. Amfortas's terrible physical and spiritual anguish mirrors Klingsor's screaming neurosis. Parsifal's tingling astonishment at his first sight of the Flower Maidens is later reflected in his calm vision of the meadow on Good Friday morning. Both moments in Gergiev's handling are pregnant with mystery and wonder.

Yet orchestral excellence isn't matched here by vocal warmth or subtlety. The singers, placed way behind the orchestra, seem to struggle in a void while Gergiev rarely raises his eyes to them. Only Fyodor Mozhaev's Amfortas is truly remarkable. The others have difficulty projecting text and music. The staying power essential in Wagner isn't always there. Victor Lutsiuk's Parsifal and Gennady Bezzubenkov's Gurnemanz reveal a strong Heldentenor and a warm bass respectively, though both were tiring by the end. Larissa Gogolevskaya's Kundry, phrasing choppily and sometimes taking breaths in the middle of words, is neither sexy nor schizophrenic enough; the Klingsor, Vladimir Vaneev, gets out of time and barks. Gergiev has turned the Kirov orchestra into a first-rate Wagnerian instrument - but the singers have a way to go to catch up.

Till October 9 (box office, 0113-243 9999), then touring.