Few composers lived such an exciting and repeatedly life-threatening existence as Stradella. Forced to flee Rome following a series of unwise liaisons with socially well-placed women, he escaped to Venice only to narrowly escape an assassination attempt. Next came Turin, and then finally Genoa, where he was murdered at the age of 42 as a result of further amorous adventures. In the interstices of all this activity he wrote over 300 commissioned works including cantatas, oratorios and no fewer than six operas. Beginning with the pathbreaking recording of San Giovanni Battista by Marc Minkowski and Les Musiciens du Louvre (Erato, 10/92) and more recently fortified by Andrea de Carlo’s Stradella Project (a collection of CDs released on the Arcana label), the indisputable quality of music that in its time was widely copied by Handel and Bononcini, among others, is finally being recognised.

As with so much of Stradella’s extraordinarily prolific output, none of the pieces on this new album (with one exception) has been previously recorded. This judicious selection of works drawn from three manuscripts of unknown provenance now in Modena (but probably originating from Rome) demonstrates the extraordinary variety of styles and approaches of which the composer was capable at his most impressive. The first motet, In tribulationibus, in angustiis, acts as a glittering showcase for Concerto Italiano at full strength, comprising a sequence of brilliant duets finishing in a warm and sonorous final ensemble. The two sopranos, Monica Piccinini and Sonia Tedla, turn in spectacular performances, perfectly matched and poised, complemented by some tightly focused trios from countertenor Andres Montilla, tenor Luca Cervoni and bass Gabriele Lombardi. There is plenty of virtuoso passagework on display here, a reminder that it was a widespread practice in Italian cities for churches to attempt to fill their pews by employing professional singers who could draw in the crowds, and that the singers themselves were often equally at home appearing in the theatre. Exultate in Deo fideles, which follows on immediately, demonstrates this to perfection. Undoubtedly written for a specific singer whose identity is now lost, it provides Lombardi with the opportunity for a gloriously lithe reading of finely judged power of operatic intensity. Freewheeling exuberance is prominent in much of the remaining vocal performances, notably in Tedla’s radiant singing in Sistite sidera, before culminating in the final work, Convocamini, congregamini, in effect a micro-oratorio with sharply characterised roles for Lucifer (Lombardi again to the fore) and a chorus of demons. All this is sensitively underpinned by the beautifully blended sonorities and energised rhythmic bite of the instrumental ensemble (who also provide two well-wrought intermediate symphonias) in full-bodied and revelatory accounts of previously hidden treasures by an undoubted master. It should not be missed.