Cecilia Bartoli’s latest foray into Baroque music is adorned with what might be a contender for worst cover of the year. Like the sensationalist title, it is no doubt Decca’s attempt to over-glamorise the repertoire. After all, a more literal name such as ‘Arias from Baroque Italian oratorios composed for Rome dating from a short period during which the Papacy forbade secular staged entertainment’ would not set as many pulses racing as Bartoli recreating sensual poses inspired by Fellini’s La dolce vita.

But if Decca’s packaging brings this repertoire to wider prominence then it cannot be a sinful thing to promote a veritable treasure trove. Caldara, Handel and Alessandro Scarlatti neatly sidestepped the issue of ‘forbidden opera’ by creating fully fledged dramatic music to religious libretti (often written by connoisseur Cardinals who could not get their operatic fix unless they sorted out their own entertainments). The allegorical or descriptive nature of the libretti is less obviously active than secular opera texts; but the musical vocabulary applied to the expression of intense emotional responses certainly produces undeniably dramatic effects.

Handel’s Il Trionfo del Tempo e del Disinganno and La Resurrezione and Scarlatti’s Sedecia already have magnificent recordings but Bartoli has plenty to contribute. Her heartfelt performance of Handel’s ‘Lascia la spina’ brings new life to an old warhorse and invites the possibility that this version of the aria provides a more convincing sentimental context for Handel’s music than its later adaptation in Rinaldo (the famous ‘Lascia ch’io pianga’).

The programme flows with strong contrasts between the dynamic impact of vibrant fast arias and slower music aching with pathos and integrity. Scarlatti’s ‘All’arme sì accesi guerrieri’ is a splendid opener, replete with brilliant trumpets and booming timpani, but the finest moments are the measured arias: the overtly operatic death scene from Sedecia (‘Caldo sangue’) and the sweeping beauty of Caldara’s ‘Sì piangete pupille dolenti’.

Bartoli’s extrovert singing finds an ideal partner in Marc Minkowski’s characteristically extreme direction. Both artists have sometimes been guilty of being too volatile in Italianate Baroque music but here they seem to iron out each other’s flaws so that the combination of their passionately communicative styles produces fantastic results.