Originating in Scott’s The Heart of Midlothian, this opera concentrates not on the novel’s central character of Jeanie Deans but on her sister and the mad woman who steals her child. These, Effie and Madge Wildfire in the novel, are now Ida and Giovanna. In fact, it’s best to forget about Scott (as in the case of Lucia di Lammermoor). What we have here is a well-made operatic lib- retto, fulfilling the formal expectations of its period while allowing the composer scope for imagination and independence. Of this he makes such good use that, listening to these excerpts, we are duly grateful and look forward to a time when it might be possible to hear the opera complete.

Very little has come down to us of the Ricci brothers (this one is Federico, the younger): a light-hearted solo from Crispino e lo comare, recorded long ago by Tetrazzini and revived by Sutherland, hardly suggests that further acquaintance will bring much depth with it, and little else has survived in the repertoire. From La prigione, one number, the tuneful barcarolle, ‘Sulla poppa del mio brich’, may be remembered by collectors on an acoustic 78 splendidly sung by Horace Stevens. What is reassuring, as one begins to play the CD, is to find that the introductory bars of the first excerpt are thoughtful and compassionate in character, carefully orchestrated, with deepening harmonies, leading to an expressive recitative and aria.

Reassurance then turns to something stronger with the entrance of Giovanna. She and her madness are characterised with subtlety and restraint, a new coloration in the orchestra with a suggestion of something off-key in the appoggiature and a soothing lullaby motion making a weirdly sensitive accompaniment to the spectacle of a woman rocking a child she sees only in imagination. The duet which follows is a masterly construction, as is the grand concerted finale of Act 2. These may be only excerpts, but they are sufficient to give a feeling of occasion, to see why the original audience in 1838 so much enjoyed their evening and why the opera caught on in practically every European opera house from Odessa to Lisbon – except (it appears) those of London and Paris.

Vocally and orchestrally, the performance is admirable. The casting of the two sopranos has followed the score’s lead, which apportions them as matching voices that nevertheless have to be distinct in character. Nuccia Focile develops the warmth and depth of her now mature voice, and Elisabetta Scano maintains clear tone and an even line. We hear less of the men, but the resonantly named Nicola Rossi Giordano displays an interestingly substantial tenor, and Christopher Purves sings the smuggler’s barcarolle with resonance and panache. Excellent playing under Gabriele Bellini and clear, forward recorded sound are constant pleasures. Jeremy Commons writes as informative an essay as we could possibly hope for, even in this exceptionally well-documented series.

Two small points about the booklet: this listener would be grateful for a little more guidance through the libretto (the blue print for excerpts is a help but not enough), and, delightful as the session photographs are, I find that their placing alongside the text works against the dramatic conviction of what we hear. As a listener, you’re using your imagination to see (for instance) this madwoman up in the burning belfry, and there on the page opposite are members of the cast among the music-stands and potted plants. It doesn’t help.