In 1819, Sir Walter Scott published a blood-and-thunder novel about a pair of star-crossed Scottish lovers, “The Bride of Lammermoor.” It’s a tale filled with hate-filled rival families, tempestuous drama and a wonderfully demented mad scene for the heroine. It was a story that cried out to be adapted into an opera. Which is exactly what happened when Gaetano Donizetti’s “Lucia di Lammermoor” had its premiere on Sept. 26, 1835, at the Teatro San Carlo in Naples.

On Saturday, Los Angeles Opera ventured (for the third time) into this operatic landscape of revenge-seeking lairds and love-crazed lassies. But don’t expect to see a depiction of crumbling castles and great halls lined with antlers, let alone a plate of haggis. This new production, directed by Elkhanah Pulitzer, designed by Carolina Angulo, with costumes by Christine Crook, lighting by Duane Schuler and projections by Wendall K. Harrington, is about as Scottish as a cannoli.

But does it really matter that the stage is an abstract series of color fields or that the characters look more like jackbooted Italian fascists than tartan-clad squabbling Scots? Very little. That’s because in bel canto opera, it’s all about the singing. And as conductor James Conlon rather humorously referenced in his preperformance lecture, it’s ultimately about one sumptuous melody leading to one climaxing high note after another.

With its challenging techniques and tessitura, Lucia is one of those roles that illuminate the vocal gifts of a coloratura soprano. In modern opera history, the comparison was often made between the fiery dramatic intensity of Maria Callas versus the pearlescent, seemingly never-ending high notes of Joan Sutherland, although Beverly Sills, and more recently Anna Netrebko, also carved their initials deeply into the part.

The current Los Angeles production starring Russian soprano Albina Shagimuratova is earthbound, though her high notes certainly soar. Stylistically, Shagimuratova possesses a great deal of vocal luster, if not the most dramatic sense of emotional imbalance. She does, however, faint a lot.

Seeing Sutherland perform the role, there was never any pretense that she was going to do anything but sing. Seeing Callas, you actually believed she was losing her mind because she was an excellent actress. Shagimuratova tends more toward the Sutherland school. But you also can lay at least part of the blame for that with Pulitzer, who is clearly a graduate of the Traffic Management School of Opera Directing — you go here, you go there, now stand and sing. Shagimuratova’s Lucia may not be a dramatic triumph, but it is very impressive vocally.

Every good soprano in a bel canto opera deserves a red-blooded tenor and a dastardly baritone. The current production provides both.

You’re not likely to mistake Albanian tenor Saimir Pirgu for a young Placido Domingo or Luciano Pavarotti. But Pirgu does bring an abundance of fire and heart-on-sleeve intensity to the role of Edgardo, last master of Ravenswood. His voice is as stalwart and eruptive as his character, complete with crooning softness and solid high notes. His Edgardo is also a man with serious anger management issues.

Baritone Stephen Powell is a worthy cad as Lucia’s brother, Enrico, who is willing to drive his sister to distraction and murder if it brings about his own financial security. And if revenge against his family’s archenemy, Edgardo, is also in the cards, he’s happy!

The role of the family’s conspiratorial chaplin, Raimondo, is sung sonorously by James Creswell, but with all the physical and emotional flexibility of a wooden plank. “Stand and deliver” is his motto.

The look of the production is elegant, minimal, totally un-Scottish and clearly influenced by the glowing light sculptures of James Turrell. The sets consist of vast, saturated color fields bordered by strips of glowing neon onto which projections of stormy skies, bottomless pools and dripping blood are projected.

If any conductor understands the dynamics of bel canto opera, it’s Conlon. From the first downbeat, he was in total control, driving the action, sculpting the melodies, modulating the gorgeous sextet and propelling the music to its series of climactic high notes. The orchestra, particularly the strings, winds and horns, never sounded better, plus it had the rare addition of a glass harmonica (performed with melodic dexterity by Thomas Bloch) to accompany poor Lucia’s decent into madness. Bellissima!

Jim Farber is a Los Angeles-based freelance writer.