Things bode well when you shout ‘Bravo!’ at the hi fi speakers at the end of the first track. Javier Camarena has already sung at many of the world’s great opera houses, so his vocal qualities are pretty widely known, but this new disc – under Decca’s new ‘Mentored by Bartoli’ stamp – should help propel the Mexican tenor to even greater heights.

The album certainly shares the traits of Cecilia Bartoli’s discography. Served up in a beautifully presented hardback book, it focuses on the life and music of the Spanish tenor Manuel García, who lived an eventful life. Markus Wyler’s entertaining notes of the rags-to-riches cobbler’s son are packed with incident, including his escapades in Mexico. García created roles such as Almaviva in Rossini’s Il barbiere di Siviglia. He was a noted composer of light operas and was also the father of Maria Malibran – subject of Bartoli scholarship on a previous disc – and Pauline Viardot.

Camarena’s disc is a delicious juxtaposition of García’s Rossini roles, Capulet’s aria from Niccolò Zingarelli’s Romeo e Giulietta and a selection of García’s own works, some in French, some in Spanish, such as ‘Yo que soy contrabandista’ from El poeta calculista which gives the disc its title – an aria that became extremely popular when both of García’s daughters used to interpolate it into the singing lesson scene of Barbiere! Possessor of a fiery temperament, García seems to have had a wide vocal range, occasionally singing the title-role in Don Giovanni, the Count in Figaro and, in Così fan tutte, alternating between Ferrando and Guglielmo as required. The booklet note writer, however, seems to think we get to hear Don Giovanni’s serenade on the disc. We don’t.

García was criticised for over-ornamentation – something that could never be levelled at Camarena, who is a model of good taste, apart from the occasional aspirate. The amiable Mexican throws himself into this repertoire with abandon, greedily lapping up the florid coloratura excesses with ease. He has a wonderfully flexible voice without any hint of nasality or the slightly metallic top of someone like Juan Diego Flórez, the only other tenor who could currently tackle this sort of stuff with such easy elegance.

From Barbiere, Camarena sings a terrific ‘Cessa di più resistere’ – familiar from its guise as the showstopping finale to La Cenerentola – which is jaw-dropping in its virtuosity. Don Ramiro’s ‘Sì, ritrovarla io giuro’ dazzles. García was also a noted Otello, often performing opposite his daughter, Maria, as Desdemona, so it’s a shame there is no memento here (Bartoli has essayed Desdemona wonderfully). Instead, the Italian mezzo joins Camarena in a lengthy duet from Armida, voices entwined seamlessly.

The numbers from García’s own works – three of them recorded for the first time – are carried off with a good deal of swagger, Camarena enthusiastically supported by Les Musiciens du Prince under Gianluca Capuano. An often thrilling disc, worthy of the Bartoli imprimatur.