Having failed to give Emmanuelle Haïm’s début Virgin release (a selection of Handel’s so-called ‘Arcadian’ duets, 11/02) an unreserved welcome, I’m glad to greet her second foray into rare Handeliana wholeheartedly. The cantata or serenata a 3 (for three), Aci, Galatea e Polifemo dates from Handel’s visit to Naples in 1708 and it has almost nothing in common – except of course, for its subject matter – with his exquisite English pastoral, Acis and Galatea for the Duke of Chandos’s house at Cannons of 1718. Little is known about the Italian Acis’s origins, but Anthony Hicks, in a fascinating booklet essay, does his best to penetrate the mystery of its commission and early history – it may have provided part of the entertainment at the wedding celebrations of the Duke of Alvito (the location mentioned in Handel’s autograph) and Donna Beatrice, daughter of the Prince of Monte-Miletto – and places it vividly in the context of Handel’s later work. As with so many of his Italian compositions, Handel used this enchanting creation of his youth as a sort of melody bank, lifting whole arias for insertion into his subsequent operas, Agrippina (1709), Rinaldo (1711), Il pastor fido (1712) Teseo (1713) and even as late as Poro (1733) and Atalanta (1736), so even if there are Handelians new to this work they will recognise Galatea’s ‘Benché touni e l’etra avvampi’ (‘Though thunder cracks and the heavens blaze’) as one of Theseus’s arias in Teseo and a revised version of Polifemo’s aria, ‘Sibilar l’angui d’Aletto’ (‘The hissing of Alecto’s snakes’) as the corresponding number for the Saracen chieftain Argante’s entrance in Act 1 of Rinaldo. It has to be said that the classical references of the text suit the mythical one-eyed giant rather better than they do the Muslim military man from Tasso’s Crusades epic, Jerusalem Deliver’d.

These are by no means the most remarkable numbers in the score. Aci, cast originally, one presumes, with a high soprano castrato, has two sublime arias, ‘Qui l’augel da pianta in pianta’ (‘Here the bird flies from tree to tree’) and his dying lament, ‘Verso già l’alma col sangue’ (‘My soul pours out with my blood’) which Handel only reused when he produced his strange bi-lingual version of Acis and Galatea in 1732 (and subsequent revivals), combining numbers from the Italian and English versions of the story. Both belong to his most ravishing early inspirations, the first a simile aria in which the soprano voice ‘competes’ with birdsong supplied by oboe and violin solos, the second a wonderfully evocative representation of the dying hero’s throbbing heart and intense anguish. This is top-flight Handel by any reckoning and Aci’s music is superbly sung by Sandrine Piau with her brilliant, steely yet still sweet soprano, used with quasi-instrumental technical accomplishment.

Polifemo’s music demands an almost unbelievably wide range – low D to A in the treble clef – and Handel showcases what must have been a unique voice even by early 18th-century standards in the sombre ‘Fra l’ombre e gl’orrori’ (‘In darkness and horror’) about a moth desperately looking for the light of an extinguished lamp. Laurent Naouri’s gravelly bass has all the notes, high and low. Even though Galatea’s music – written for a contralto – is less interesting, the Arcadian nymph is cast with the best singer here, the wonderful Sara Mingardo, one of the truly sublime Handelians of our time, who brings a dark sensuality to her love music and a heartbreaking outpouring of grief in the recative following Aci’s death.

This is only the second recording of the cantata to come my way and I marginally prefer Haïm’s more Mediterranean sounding trio to Charles Medlam’s Emma Kirkby, Carolyn Watkinson and David Thomas. If you have that version – which gives the score as written; Haïm adds an overture in the form of the two central movements of the concerto grosso Op 3 No 4 – you don’t need to throw it away, but if not, Haïm’s more spirited and imaginative direction, her singers and a pristine modern recording weigh the balance in favour of the Virgin set.