Resilience is a prime quality for opera companies on a tour of mostly one-night stands abroad.

The Chisinau National Opera and Philharmonic Orchestra from Moldova must have it in abundance following visits to Britain organised by UK impresario and director Ellen Kent.

She and they are currently presenting three operas here simultaneously - Verdi’s Aida and Nabucco, and Puccini’s La Boheme.

It’s tempting to suggest that a price is being paid for such an enervating schedule, even though most of the leading roles are shared. This was the 29th performance since the end of September and there’ll be thirty more before May.

But Kent is a canny operator, her work with the Moldovans hugely popular and shaped by experienced conductor Nicolae Dohotaru.

This Aida is typical in being as traditional as porridge and kippers. Even its essential spectacle is acknowledged, if thinly-populated and at times stiff and stylised. A locally-recruited firespinner, Susanna James, supplies the gasp factor.

Also helping out and equally unobtrusive are UK opera singers and other local students and dancers. Costumes are first-class. The scenery barely alters but is imaginatively used. .

The strengths are in the singing, especially from Korean Elena Dee in the title role, despite hands that behave like octopus tentacles under stress. Sorin Lupu is a commanding Radames and Zarui Vardanean brings to the role of Amneris as dark a mezzo-soprano as you’re likely to encounter. Petru Racovita’s Amonasro and Valeriu Cojocaru’s High Priest are magisterial.

It might be a populist production but the people turned up for an almost full house.

It's not snooty to note that, in Cardiff at least, the home of the world-class Welsh National Opera, this was not your usual opera audience. You could tell that by eavesdropping on the interval conversations. For the first time in my experience of attending performances of Aida, there was no applause following its early crowd-pleaser, Radames's aria Celeste Aida. In fact, Mr Lupu and the arriving Ms Dee, stage left, seemed taken aback and the orchestra quite definitely waited for an ovation. It never came, nor was their much applause except at the end.

This audience might not have been predominantly regular operagoing but perhaps it could teach the regulars something about understanding dramatic flow and not interrupting it with clapping just because that's what you're supposed to do. Good on them.