Redisovering the world of the legendary castrato‚ Farinelli‚ is a tall order‚ although we are fortunate to have Quantz’s description of him boasting ‘a penetrating‚ full‚ rich‚ bright and well­modulated soprano voice…his intonation was pure‚ his trill beautiful‚ his breath­control extraordinary… passage­work and all types of melismas were of no difficulty at all for him’. No doubt spurred on by growing interest in Farinelli over the years‚ René Jacobs attempts to recapture the essence of the man and his music through the wiles of American mezzo‚ Vivica Genaux‚ in repertoire known to have been written for the Italian in his operatic heyday of the 1720s and ’30s. This is clearly no archaeological vanity (René Jacobs‚ an eminent falsettist in his day‚ knows well enough that his species is a dodo) since Genaux has many of the intrinsic virtues outlined by Quantz and yet remains true to herself; she presents a possible artistic solution to what has traditionally been territory for the curious historian or sensationalist film director. An understandable temptation is to envisage the sound of a castrato merely alongside a present­day countertenor or a mezzo (one‚ that is‚ not attempting to imitate the strains of a castrato) or to synthesise various timbres into something distinctly artificial‚ as in the 1994 Farinelli film. Even ‘au naturel’‚ Genaux is still presented with a difficult dilemma. Some arias – all of which are significant ‘scenas’ – allow her more successfully than others to pursue the extremes of strident projection‚ fireworks and alluring lyricism which so titillated and moved Farinelli’s audiences. Yet Giacomelli’s celebrated Metastasian aria from Adriano in Siria leaves too much to the imagination and her instincts impel her to revert to a natural ‘womanly’ timbre. This is not a fault exactly because the project does not stand or fall on a parity of vocal timbre between Farinelli and Genaux‚ but there are other arias here which encourage Genaux rather more to imagine herself as Farinelli the artist and to evoke in long­breathed lines the nobility of sound and open­throated messa di voce which inspired Riccardo Broschi to compose his delectable ‘Ombra fedele’ for his brother. This is true also in the famous follow­up aria‚ ‘Qual guerriero’‚ where even if Genaux’s passagios are not absolutely flawless‚ the virtuoso coloratura art is pushed thrillingly to the limits. Even more successful are the two arias from Hasse’s Artaserse (the first actually written by Porpora and added in later productions)‚ the latter of which enables us to get closer still to the beguiling other­worldliness of Farinelli. Supported by two excellent booklet essays by Reinhard Strohm and René Jacobs‚ not least in their sympathetic handling of Farinelli’s unique circumstances‚ this project is certainly original and accomplished. Genaux more than fits the bill (she is often outstanding) but I am left feeling in my heart­of­hearts that everything she does‚ Farinelli probably would have done better: more contrast‚ more artifice‚ a vocal apparatus which would intensified everything ten­fold and never immured his profound musicianship – for which he was universally fêted as little short of a god.