Handel loved to pit the voice against one or more solo instruments, whether in a spirit of competitive sparring or in sympathetic communion. While countless albums have showcased Handel’s star sopranos and castratos, David Bates here sets out to give equal billing to the crack instrumentalists in the composer’s London opera orchestras, many imported from Italy, Germany and Holland. So we get Rinaldo vying in bellicose swagger with four trumpets, Ruggiero (Alcina) spurred on to triumph by a pair of braying natural horns, and Caesar in playful rivalry with a solo violin, after Cleopatra has wooed him in the most voluptuously scored aria even Handel ever composed. Oboe and violin console the bereft Acis in a bittersweet lament from the serenata Aci, Galatea e Polifemo, while keening bassoons grieve with Ariodante in ‘Scherza infida’, Handel’s most luxuriant expression of betrayed love.

A glance through the roster of performers – Handelian A-listers all – immediately whets the appetite. From the zesty overture to Teseo, cavorting oboe to the fore, expectations are richly fulfilled. Iestyn Davies, mellifluous and dazzlingly agile, combines with the testosterone-fuelled trumpets in a viscerally thrilling performance of Rinaldo’s ‘Or la tromba’. Lucy Crowe, her tone both pure and sensuous, is a ravishing Cleopatra, cushioned by the succulent sonorities of Handel’s double orchestra. In league with Leo Duarte’s nimble oboe, Crowe is in her element, too, in a show-stopping performance of Poppea’s ‘vengeance’ aria from Agrippina, complete with dizzying flights into the stratosphere in the da capo.

Elsewhere Davies jousts wittily with Thomas Gould’s violin in Ceasar’s ‘Se in fiorito’, and laments with oboe and bassoon in the piercing sarabande ‘Pena tiranna’ from Amadigi. Amid so much superb singing and playing, the highlights for me are Christine Rice’s two solos: Ruggiero’s swashbuckling ‘Sta nell’Ircana’, dispatched with glowing evenness of tone and a devil may-care brilliance in the da capo ornamentations; and her searing ‘Scherza infida’, phrased in long, intense spans and exploiting the chiaroscuro within her rich, coppery mezzo. The clarity of the bassoons, wailing through softly palpitating muted strings, encapsulates Bates’s care for texture and balance throughout the album.

In churlish mode you might regret that there is nothing here for flute (say, Rodelinda’s poignant ‘Ombre, piante’) or recorder. Far better, though, to enjoy the delights on offer. Virtually every number is a Handelian winner, the performances could hardly be bettered, and Pentatone’s presentation, including apt contemporary quotes and illuminating notes from Ruth Smith and Bates himself, is a model of its kind.