Any eminent singer these days needs a Handel disc under his or her belt, it would seem; the programmes are often glibly planned and the results ephemeral. No fear of that here in this beguilingly rich and sensitive recital from one of the most thoughtful tenors of his generation. Underpinned by Andrew Manze’s unobtrusive and warm-hearted English Concert, Mark Padmore uses his extraordinary diction and whispering chamber-like intimacy to remind us that the most exalted tenor arias from the operas and oratorios can achieve true potency out of context.

Favourites like “Where’er you walk” and “Waft her, angels” appear to grow out of this varied programme without the sense of being lifted for a compilation; Padmore is a master of taste, restraint and unassuming gesture. “Pastorello d’un povero” is a touching vignette and the soft singing elsewhere contributes to a concentrated and affecting juxtaposition of human vice and virtue (a theme of extremes which recurs throughout) in the Tamerlano scenas. As throughout, Padmore saves the greatest emotional impact for the da capos where coloration reaches new heights.

Indeed, it is the joy in conveying the emotional core of each situation which marks out this disc. Graphic dramatic effects abound (not least the Sultan’s gradual giving up the ghost in “Figlia mia” with a croaking realism) but this is a disc which celebrates Handel’s capacity for incisive human observation, achieved more through reflective means than showpiece coloratura. It’s a persuasive and thoughtful approach.

Padmore’s lowest register can seem a touch insubstantial but this is a small gripe in a disc boasting – as its parting shot – the duet “As steals the morn”, a performance with the fine Lucy Crowe at her most alluring.