Throughout I kept on wishing that they'd stuck to that for which the libretto had asked.
From the C17th onwards (and probably before that, but we don't have too much solid evidence) it was expected and required that the librettist himself would stage the piece. There is an urban myth that "there were no stage directors before the late C19th" - this is untrue. It's more that stage-directors
exterior to the creation of the piece emerged as a cult profession at the end of the C19th. If you look at Vanbrugh's THE REHEARSAL or Sheridan's THE CRITIC, both satirise hopeless amateurish authors who can only do half the expected job (the writing) - they're unable to achieve the other half (putting it on stage in a successful way).
In fact the great majority of the internal rivalries which brought the "Royal Academy Of Music" crashing-down on the heads of Handel and Bononcini was not about the music at all - it was about clashes between Rolli (a rather b-grade poet, author of many of Bononcini's libretti, and a theatre-director with several summer season's experience in Italy) versus Haym, a cellist with literary abilities and a strong sense for drama, whose natural instincts for staging his own libretti outstripped the official "Literary Director" of the Academy (Rolli).
Let's remember that Wagner preferred to hand the baton for his operas to more experienced hands - so that he could stage the pieces himself (no-one else has ever been credited with staging them during RW's lifetime). So this author/director synthesis was alive and well during the C19th.
In recent years Peter Sellars has partially restored this tradition - taking an advisory role in the creation and rewriting of libretti, and creating some of his own. David Pountney has written libretti too. If only more librettists were obliged to see their ideas through to the first night (instead of walking away after emailing the script to the composer) we might see fewer landlocked, "unstagable" shows. One of the FIVE:FIFTEEN shows I mentioned fell into this bracket - Ian Rankin's GESUALDO was a miserable brace of cod-operatic cliches which were so very bad that they made the show unintentionally comic in nature
I've never seen so much tomato ketchup since Peter O'Toole's MACBETH.