What a difference a decade makes. Over recent years I’ve become so used to Nicola Benedetti’s concerto releases covering repertoire from the Romantic era onwards, that before ‘Baroque’ landed on my desk I’d forgotten that this isn’t her first recording foray into the 18th century. Back in 2011 ‘Italia’ presented a clutch of concertos by Vivaldi, Veracini and Tartini with the Scottish Chamber Orchestra (10/11), and giving it a quick whirl now makes for an interesting listen: a violinist neatly and energetically in command of the most dizzyingly virtuoso passages and an attractive brightness to the overall sound. But the Baroque curve to the phrasing is missing and her range of expression and colour is slightly narrow.

This new album, however, is a very different beast. Not least because Benedetti is on gut strings for the first time, and because her 10-strong, hand-picked ensemble comprises mostly seasoned Baroque musicians such as OAE leaders Kati Debretzeni and Matthew Truscott and lutenist Elizabeth Kenny. But most importantly of all, because Benedetti has been immersed herself in Baroque repertoire and technique, most notably through tuition and performance collaborations with harpsichordist and Venice Baroque Orchestra director Andrea Marcon.

The sum of all those parts is a vibrant set of performances with all the energy of ‘Italia’ but now with an unmistakably period sound, her crack ensemble providing crisply attentive support, Benedetti herself displaying an entirely different and wider spectrum of colour and expression, and all with a thoroughly satisfying curve to her phrasing. It’s also still recognisably Benedetti, in that her characteristic punch of attack is very much there in moments such as the later variations of Geminiani’s La folia that opens the programme or the first movement of Vivaldi’s Concerto in B minor, RV386.

To really get the measure of Benedetti’s Baroque colours, though, jump to Vivaldi’s Violin Concerto in D, RV211, because it’s here that her wide-ranging expressivity and variety of tone and articulation (and indeed technical facility) may force a few readers to re-evaluate everything they thought they knew about her strengths and weaknesses. Her cadenza alone (4'46") is a beauty; equally satisfying is the keening, feather-light lilt and multi-shading with which she then spins the Larghetto’s opening theme.

If there’s one moment that doesn’t quite hit the mark, it’s the Andante from Vivaldi’s RV583 in B flat – programmed on its own as a parting gift. That opening succession of repeated notes in particular is an absolute pig of a line to make sing with easy flow, and to me her delivery here and across the movement sounds a little stiff. But that’s hardly a deal breaker for what, as a whole, is a distinctly impressive album, whether or not you’re a diehard Benedetti fan.